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That aching between her legs had lingered in her memory. Rosaline wasn’t a fool – she knew what happened between men and women. Not from her parents, but from a nursemaid who’d decided to tell Rosaline everything that needed to be told when she was thirteen years old and had her first bleeding.
It had sounded terrible.
Would it be terrible, though? People had babies all the time. The maids giggled about the footmen and made bawdy comments that lingered in Rosaline’s memory if she happened to overhear.
Whenever she thought too hard about the Duke, about his narrow eyes, faintly curled lips, and broad shoulders, Rosaline sometimes felt that ache again. She wondered what it would feel like to kiss him again, and what would have happened if the kiss had continued.
But that didn’t matter. They were not going to be married. They were not really in love.
She would see him frequently from now on, and it was important for her own happiness that she didn’t start to build false hope.
CHAPTER10
Benedict had dealt with people like the Wyres before. If his memory served him correctly, a rather nasty fever running through the family had cleared the way for Matthew Wyre to inherit the title and the already crumbling estate. This family tragedy had allowed them the greatest achievement of their lives. They were people who cared only for money and prestige and were willing to do whatever they must to get the attention of those people.
He wasn’t at all surprised that the Baron and Baroness were more or less expecting him. They greeted him in the hall, oozing charm and playfulness. The Baroness flirted outrageously, laughing coyly and laying her gloved hand on his arm.
He gently removed his arm from her grip, hoping it wasn’t too pointed.
“Isuppose you want to see our Rosaline.” The Baroness said, sounding vaguely martyred, as though the prospect of losing her daughter was as painful as losing a hand or foot.
Benedict suspected that the truth was very different.
“Ido, however, I’d like to speak to you first.”
Asmall, scruffy urchin appeared somewhere around Benedict’s knee, staring up at him awe.
“Are you a giant?” the child asked solemnly.
Benedict only smiled. With much flapping of hands, the Baroness indicated that the child was to be removed, and a thin, lanky teenage boy came scurrying out of a doorway, lifting the child onto his hip and returning.
He cast Benedict one baleful glance, so full of anger and dislike that Benedict took a step back.
Who was this young man, and what on earth had Benedict done to incur his wrath?
Then he was being ushered into the parlor again and had no time to think about the angry youth or the scruffy child.
The Baron and Baroness cooed over him, pressing cups of tea, stale biscuits, and bland cake into his hands.
Rosaline was already waiting for them. She wore a brown stuff dress, with the cuffs turned back to hide how worn they were. He couldn’t help but frown at that.Thatwould have to change, for sure. A duke’s consort couldn’t wander around in tatty old dresses.
She had obviously been coached by her parents. Or at least, they’d tried to coach her, keen for Benedict’s return. He could imagine the sort of thing ambitious parents whispered in the ears of their pretty daughters.
Don’t be too forward, but don’t be too shy, either. Sit up straight, stick out your bosom. Smile at him through your eyelashes. Be interested in what he has to say.
He’d seen enough of those tips and tricks from other ladies, some impressively experienced in flirting.
Rosaline looked miserable and uncomfortable. Occasionally her mother would flash a glare at her, and Rosaline would straighten in her seat, and paste on a weak, welcoming smile.
“The truth is, Baron Wyre, Baroness Wyre, I came to talk about something more serious.”
Her parents glanced at each other.
“What is that, Your Grace?” the Baron asked nervously.
“I’m sure I have made my appreciation of your daughter quite clear. I am here today, quite simply, to ask your permission to court Rosaline.”
There was a brief silence. Benedict sat back to let his request sink in. He had no doubt his request would be granted, eventually. Her parents sucked in sharp breaths, glancing at each other with barely concealed triumph and greed.
