Page 32 of An Innocent Maid for the Duke
‘Oliver. How lovely of you to join us,’ Grandmama said. ‘Miss Nightingale, let me make Mr Oliver Gregory known to you. He is a good friend of my grandson’s.’
Rose curtsied the perfect depth for a non-titled gentleman. Grandmama had obviously started the task of moulding Rose into shape. She didn’t want Rose to suffer embarrassment any more than he did.
‘Can I pour you a sherry, Grandmama? Rose?’ Jake asked.
‘Miss Nightingale does not imbibe, Jake. But I will take a glass.’
‘Perhaps some ratafia, or orgeat, Miss Nightingale,’ Oliver said. While his expression was bland, Jake had no doubt he was inspecting her from her head to her heels and his tone indicated he was not displeased with what he saw.
‘Thank you,’ Rose said. Her smile was a little too warm for Jacob’s taste. He forbore from saying so, but once she had her drink in hand he drew her towards the window and left Oliver catching up on gossip with his grandmother.
‘When you reply yes to a gentleman you can be a little more haughty,’ he said. ‘No need to look as if he has offered you a special gift when he is simply doing his gentlemanly duty.’
‘Sorry.’
‘And no need to apologise for anything. A lady is always right. About most things anyway. Under the right circumstances.’
She frowned. ‘I have no idea what you mean.’
And no wonder. He scarcely understood himself. Blast it. He had to stop thinking of her as his lady in red. She was now a female under his protection. Out of bounds. Was that not half the reason he had offered her the position in the first place? The other half, the need to protect her, was an aberration he must ignore. ‘Never mind. You’ll get the hang of it.’
The butler announced dinner and Oliver went ahead with his grandmother, while Jake brought Rose in on his arm.
Arm in arm they watched while Oliver demonstrated how to seat a lady and Grandmother demonstrated how a lady took her seat. Standing there with her on his arm, a strange sense of comfort filled him. Mentally he shook his head and held out Rose’s chair. She accomplished the whole sitting down in skirts to the manner born. He felt an odd sense of pride at her elegance and style. As if he’d had something to do with it. It was all Rose herself. He had been foolish to worry about such a simple thing.
* * *
The rest of the meal was taken up with polite conversation and Jake desperately trying not to bash Oliver on the nose when he flirted with Rose—all in the cause of helping her get some polish, damn him.
By the time they partook of dessert, Rose was flagging. Her eyes were shadowed by effort and her smile strained.
‘And now we ladies will retire for tea,’ Grandmother said with a kind smile for her charge. ‘We will leave these gentleman to their port. Will you be joining us in the drawing room later, Oliver?’
‘I greatly beg your indulgence, Your Grace, but I have a previous engagement elsewhere for the rest of the evening.’ He rose and came around to help Grandmama rise. Jake did the same for Rose.
Oliver bowed over Rose’s hand. ‘A pleasure to meet you, Miss Nightingale. I hope I have the felicitation of meeting you again.’
Rose frowned for a second as if puzzling out his meaning, then smiled her sweet lovely smile that had Jake once more wanting to shove the far-too-handsome Oliver out of the room.
Rose dipped a little curtsy. ‘If you are going to Lady Dearbourne’s Venetian Breakfast you will indeed be felicitated.’
Oliver’s eyes danced. ‘I would not miss it for the world.’
Rose followed his grandmother out of the room.
When the door closed behind them, Jake turned to Oliver. ‘Well, what do you think?’
Oliver gave him a hard look. ‘I think she is a delightful young woman. I have only one doubt.’
Jake tensed, concerned she had not passed muster in his friend’s eyes. ‘And that is?’
‘Your intentions. Are you toying with that sweetinnocentfemale?’
He bridled. ‘Certainly not.’
‘Good,’ Oliver grunted. ‘I saw the way she looked at you. Don’t break her heart.’
Jake bristled.
