Page 74 of An Innocent Maid for the Duke
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The days after Jake left were the longest of Rose’s life. There had been one letter from him, a single line to his grandmother announcing his safe arrival in Hertfordshire and no mention of when he might return.
The household had continued in its usual routine, despite the strange emptiness the house evoked without him. She missed him terribly.
On the third afternoon, Rose sat with Eleanor and her grandmother in the drawing room, the other two ladies sewing and chatting as if nothing had changed, while an uncomfortable thought kept going around and around in Rose’s mind.
Did Jake’s departure mean something more than a need to visit one of his estates? He’d decided so suddenly. And had been so distracted in the carriage ride home from Gunter’s. Had he intended that she should hand in her notice in his absence?
Every time that thought crossed her mind, as it had several times since he’d bid her farewell, her heart squeezed with a pang so painful she couldn’t breathe. Over the past few weeks, she had grown to love his grandmother as if she was her own. She adored Lucy. And wondrously, Eleanor treated her as an equal. She had the feeling they might have become friends if things had been different.
But she could not allow it. Not when she was living a lie.
Eleanor would be disgusted if she knew the truth of her history, what she was. Not to mention her horror if she learned of Rose’s relationship with Jake. What decent mother would want someone like her near their child?
Shame rose up in a horrid wave. She ought to leave before Jake returned. A voice inside her, a niggling discomfort, kept reminding her that as sure as eggs were eggs, the truth would come out. A servant would see him entering her room. Or Mr Challenger would say something. Or...
‘Your Grace,’ the butler said, walking in with a silver salver. ‘A note came for you. Hand delivered. The messenger said it was urgent.’
The Dowager Duchess took the paper with a smile of thanks and spread the paper open. ‘Well, fancy that.’
‘What is it, Grandmama?’ Eleanor asked.
‘We are all invited to a musicale evening at Lady Buckhurst’s.’
Rose rested her embroidery frame in her lap, intending to refuse any attempt to take her along.
Eleanor frowned. ‘Why would that be considered urgent? When is it?’
‘Tonight. A last-minute affair. Lady Buckhurst discovered that Signora Calvetti, a brilliant soprano fêted in Paris and Rome, is visiting London. She is due to depart on the morrow. Lady Buckhurst has managed to get her to agree to one performance only. Quite the coup, from her note. Shall we go and add to the consequence of the evening?’
‘You may go if you wish, Grandmama,’ Eleanor said softly. ‘I prefer not.’
‘You need to go about more, my dear, now that we have put off black gloves. It is not right for someone so young to be cloistered away.’
Eleanor sighed. ‘I am perfectly happy as I am, Grandmama. You will not flex your matchmaking muscles on my behalf. You have enough to do with Jake.’
Her Grace frowned mightily. ‘Rose, youwilladd your pleas to mine.’ The old lady turned to Rose. Her hopeful expression pulled at Rose’s heartstrings more than it should. The old lady was right, though. Eleanor was too young to remain a widow. She ought to be out among society, seeking enjoyment.
‘You told me you like music, Eleanor,’ Rose said, a little weakly even to her own ears. She forced confidence into her voice, along with a dab of persuasion. ‘You might regret not hearing this singer if she is as good as your grandmother says.’
Eleanor grimaced. ‘I don’t know.’ Her face brightened. ‘I will go, if you will. You have been moping about, since my brother left.’
Jake. She meant Jake. Shock hit her hard. She couldn’t believe Eleanor would have noticed. And now her cheeks were hot and she couldn’t meet the other woman’s gaze for fear she would give herself away. More than she already had.
‘It is true, Rose,’ the Dowager Duchess said. ‘You have not been your usual cheerful self. An outing will do you good.’
Oh, no. She had noticed, too. Why was she not demanding she leave? Instead she looked...sympathetic?
‘I know nothing about opera, my lady,’ she managed to mumble. ‘It would be better if I stayed here with Lucy.’
Eleanor looked startled. Perhaps even shocked.
Oh, dear. Was opera a part of every young lady’s curriculum? The only thing close to what she thought might be opera were the bawdy ditties at the V&V.
Her Grace wagged a gnarled finger in her direction. ‘A lack of education in a young lady such as you will not do, Rose. The sooner you add music to your repertoire the better, my gel.’
Her repa—What?A young lady such as her would likely be on the next ship to Botany Bay if Her Grace ever guessed the lies she’d been told.
