Instead, she turned back to Phineas with a light laugh. “It is quite all right, Lord Northam. Perhaps another time, I will share my stories—if you can manage not to interrupt.”
Phineas laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Touché, duchess. I shall endeavor to behave.”
“Tell me, my lord,” Rosaline said, her voice smooth, as she changed the subject, trying to lighten the mood. “You mentioned a…David earlier. Who is he?”
The jovial atmosphere in the room instantly shifted. Adam’s jaw tightened, and his eyes darkened.
“You do not know about David?” Phineas replied innocently.
“No, I do not.”
Phineas’ eyes flickered towards Adam, “You still haven’t told her?”
Adam’s face was made of the darkest storms.
Rosaline, sensing the sudden tension, quickly intervened. “I apologize. It was an indiscreet question.”
Phineas, however, seemed unfazed. “No harm done, Duchess. It isn’t my story to tell, either way. David may have been myfriend, but Adam was the one closest to him.” He gave Adam a meaningful look.
Adam, his face a mask of controlled fury, merely grunted in response.
Rosaline, acutely aware of the undercurrents of tension, steered the conversation back to lighter topics, her mind racing.
What was that about?
Who was David? And why did Adam react like that? What did it mean?
Phineas finally departed after a round of drinks in the parlor. Rosaline was now alone with Adam, only the crackling sounds from the fireplace filling the room.
Rosaline felt an odd sense of relief, the weight of the evening slowly lifting.
“He seems interesting,” she remarked, her voice carefully neutral.
Despite her inner musings, she couldn’t help but feel a small flicker of pride. She had held her own, hadn’t she?
Adam, his eyes fixed at the parlor’s exit, said nothing.
Rosaline, feeling a surge of defiance, turned to face him. “He’s certainly more entertaining than most of the men in the ton.”
Adam finally looked at her, his gaze intense, searching. “Is that so?” he murmured, his voice a low growl.
Rosaline, her heart pounding, met his gaze, unflinching.
“Indeed,” she replied, her voice steady despite the tremor running through her. “He seems to possess a certain friendly charm. Actually friendly, not simply polite.”
Adam’s lips curved into a slow, predatory smile. “Charm, Duchess?” he repeated, his voice low and teasing. “Perhaps you find charm in every rogue you encounter.”
Rosaline bristled. “I find charm in intelligence, wit, and kindness, duke. Qualities you have not done much to display.”
Adam’s eyes narrowed, but there was something almost approving in his gaze.
“Is that so?” He took a step closer, his presence filling the room, crowding her space. “Perhaps you should spend more time observing those qualities in your husband.”
Rosaline felt a shiver running down her spine, but she refused to shrink under his gaze. His proximity was unnerving, his aura commanding. But she wasn’t intimidated.
She lifted her chin, her defiance steady despite the rapid beat of her heart.
“Are youjealous, Duke?” she asked, her voice cool and laced with challenge. “Is that why you are so keen to scrutinize me tonight?”