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In the middle of her reverie, she hadn’t heard her mother calling her name. Not until her mother pinched her hand did her mind return back to the present.
“This is a good thing, Rose,” her mother said as soon as she realized she had secured Rose’s attention once more.
After a brief pause, Rose finally found her voice.
“So if this is a done deal and it has already been decided between you and Father who I am to marry, what then is the reason for the ball?” she queried, her anger beginning to swell in intensity.
Her mother sighed.
“Your father and I knew that you weren’t going to go along with the betrothal if you were simply told. The plan, then, was to organize a ball where he was going to approach you in full view of your peers. If for any reason you had still found a way to turn down his proposal, I and your father would then have insisted that you get wedded to him.”
Rose’s mouth fell open but no words came forth. They had truly planned this to the tiniest detail, all without seeking her opinion or consent on the matter. And if not for her brother’s big mouth, she would have been none the wiser.
The truth was, only moments earlier, she had decided to look forward to the whole season with hope and optimism. The day of her ball hadn’t even arrived and this was already turning into a disaster. Her excitement and spirit had been dampened because her parents had decided to meddle in her affairs once more.
If only…
That thought was paused as another began to gnaw at the back of her mind.
Who was the suitor her parents had chosen?
Her mind raced through all the options that she remembered and no name that came to mind was able to lift her spirits. There was always something wrong with each and every one of them, as she’d found out from her liaisons in previous seasons.
“Come now, Daughter. Let us go and choose a beautiful ball gown that you will wear on the day,” her mother said, interrupting her thoughts.
“Mother, wait. I would like to know who you and Father have chosen.”
There was a brief pause before her mother proceeded to answer her question.
“Noah Norton, the Earl of Rockgonie,” her mother replied simply.
Rose’s mind had to do a little searching before she was able to recollect who Lord Rockgonie was. After all, there were a lot of peers who went unnoticed during the London season.
“What!” she exclaimed, as her memory of Lord Rockgonie returned. “No, Mother. Please, no!” she protested.
Lord Rockgonie was a silent and mysterious figure who in spite of his title and peerage, had managed to stay unmarried. Though the rules were different for gentlemen than they were for ladies, most of London’s high society had come to the conclusion that there was something weird about the Earl of Rockgonie. Now in his thirties, Lord Rockgonie rarely attended the routs and balls of the London Season and mostly kept to himself. His business was largely unknown and for London’s gossip vine, that was rife with information on almost anyone and everyone, that was an absurdity.
And as was often the case, when not much information was available on any person of interest, rumors replaced the facts and were pedaled through the vine.
“Not Lord Rockgonie,” Rose continued protesting.
“Will you stop your whining this instant?” her mother scolded. “The Earl of Rockgonie is a wonderful gentleman and I am most assured that you will find happiness with him. Now come and let us get to the business of your ball gown for that night,” her mother concluded, and turned to exit the study.
Rose exhaled and made to follow, only to realize that she still held the paper she was reading earlier in her hand.
The Marquess of Walsrock.
She’d never met or seen the gentleman and still she’d never felt a stronger connection with any other mind, male or female, in the whole of London.
She made a wish as she walked back to replace the paper.
