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Rosaline’s lips tightened. “I will think about it. Excuse me, please.”
Benedict was left with nothing to do but to let her go. He watched her take to the dance floor with a newly subdued Mr. Thompson. He watched them spin around, smiling and laughing at each other. Jealousy gnawed at his stomach like an overgrown hunger pain.
Why on earth should he care so much about her forgiveness?
“She’s a feisty one, and no mistake.” Mrs. Brummell remarked, materializing at Benedict’s elbow and making him jump. “She reminds me of me.”
“If you say so, Mrs. Brummell.” Benedict replied shortly, hoping that she would take the hint and leave.
He should have known better.
Mrs. Brummell took his arm companionably, making herself comfortable. “You aren’t forgiven yet, then?”
“Idon’t know what you mean.”
“Come, come, you must know that my Mr. Brummell tells me everything.”
Benedict growled. “I’ll kill him.”
“He may have done you a favor. Now, I’ve spoken to dear Miss Wyre at length, and I’ve observed her at the refreshment table. If you want to apologize properly, then the way to that girl’s heart is through her stomach.”
Benedict frowned. “What?”
Mrs. Brummell rolled her eyes. “Food, Benedict.”
CHAPTER18
It had been tempting to refuse Lord Benedict’s invitation to dinner. Unfortunately, dinners and outings with his grandmother were part of their arrangement – Lord Benedict had made that clear.
The carriage had arrived at exactly the stroke of seven, and Rosaline had nervously climbed inside. She’d left Margaret at home. The poor girl has lots of work to catch up on, and it wasn’t as though there wouldn’t be chaperones at the dinner.
She fidgeted in her new gown. It was a pale green with fine lace that itched Rosaline’s collarbones and wrists. It was beautiful, certainly, with a shape that flattered her perfectly. There were some green silk flowers pinned into her hair, which was done elaborately at the back of her head. She hardly dared rest her head back against the carriage cushions in case she disarranged it.
The carriage pulled up in front of Lord Benedict’s large townhouse, lights glittering in almost all of the lower-floor windows.
She climbed out, and spotted Lord Benedict himself standing on the front steps, waiting for her.
“Good evening, Miss Rosaline. Perhaps we can dispense with the ‘Miss’ for the evening?”
“Ihave no objections.” Rosaline said, forcing a smile. Lord Benedict looked spectacularly handsome, as usual. He was wearing a deep green velvet suit that she’d seen before, and it flattered him to perfection. The coat was just a smidgen too small for him, stretching across his impressive chest and broad shoulders.
He offered his hand, and when she took it, he bent down to kiss the back of her hand.
The kiss sent tingles down Rosaline’s spine. His lips were gentle and soft, and she felt his fingers brush against the underside of her wrist again.
That reminded her of when he’d taken her hand on the balcony. She could still remember the touch of his fingertips against her wrist. Surely, he must have felt her pulse speed up at his touch?
“It’s good to see you.” He said, quietly. “Come in.”
“Where is the Dowager? Is Mr. Eaton – Joshua – here, too?”
The Duke hesitated. “In truth, Rosaline, it’s just us.”
There was a silence while Rosaline absorbed this.
“Just… us?” she repeated slowly.
“Yes. My grandmother is out, and won’t be back until late, and Joshua is – well, I never know what Joshua is up to. We’ll eat in the dining room, and perhaps play cards in the parlor after. Or we can just talk, if you’d prefer.”
