Page 75 of An Innocent Maid for the Duke
She opened her mouth to refuse again.
‘Please, Rose,’ the Dowager said and the hope in her old wise eyes made Rose feel as if she’d stepped into a bog and was floundering around for an excuse when Her Grace knew Rose would never refuse her anything she wanted. As an employee, she didn’t have the right.
Still she tried. ‘I don’t think—’
‘Oh, please don’t say no,’ Eleanor said. ‘Grandmama is going to insist I go, I can see she is. Having you with me will make it bearable. It doesn’t matter in the least that you don’t speak Italian. It is the music that counts.’
Italian? Heaven help her.
How could she refuse? These people had been good to her. So good that sometimes she forgot herself and thought of them as family. And to have the chance to hear such music... What a treat it would be. She raised a hand. ‘I give in. I will go.’
Hopefully they would not run into Mr Challenger. As kindly as his smile seemed, that man unnerved her.
* * *
Seated between Her Grace and Lady Eleanor in Lady Buckhurst’s opulent music room, Rose had never heard anything quite so beautiful as Signora Calvetti’s singing. True, she did not understand the words—but, oh, the feelings her voice evoked. They tore at her heartstrings in nameless ways. Sorrow. Loss. Joy. It was all there in the music. Rose sat entranced. Thrilled they had persuaded her to accept the invitation.
Nothing in her life had prepared her for the sounds issuing from the woman who stood at the front of the room with diamonds glittering in her hair, at her throat and on her eloquent hands.
The music came to a close and the audience clapped heartily.
The dark-haired voluptuous flashing-eyed singer, curtseyed and blew kisses to her audience.
‘Encore!’someone shouted.
The cry was picked up around the room.
The singer smiled but shook her head.
Lady Buckhurst hustled up to stand beside the woman, signalling for silence. ‘Thank you everyone. I promised thesignorawe would understand that she has a long journey tomorrow and must guard her voice for a performance in Paris booked many months ago. If you would like to follow mymajor-domo,refreshments are served in the conservatory.’
The crowd, good-natured if disappointed, began to shuffle their way out. Someone tapped Rose on the shoulder with a fan.
Wondering who it could be, she turned around. It was the girl who had played croquet with Jake. ‘Oh,’ she said surprised. ‘Lady Alicia.’
The girl’s smile was less than friendly. ‘He won’t marry you, you know.’
Rose blinked. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘The Duke.’ She nodded to the back of the room. Jake was standing there, talking to another gentleman.
Rose’s heart soared.
He was looking a little haggard. Something like the way he had looked when they first met. What could have happened during the past few days to make him appear so? Or was it merely weariness from his journey?
‘He won’t marry a nobody from the country,’ the girl hissed in her ear as people shuffled around them as if they were an island in the middle of a fast-flowing river. ‘A libertine and a rake he may have been, but he will do his duty by the title. You’ll see.’
Rose glared at her, her hackles rising at the scornful tone. ‘You don’t think he will marry you, do you?’
The girl primped the cluster of curls resting on her cheek. ‘If my father has anything to say to it he will. After all, it is his fault I didn’t get to marry his brother.’
‘His fault.’ Rose’s jaw dropped. ‘What on earth do you mean?’
‘He wanted the title and he arranged to get it. Everyone says so.’
Rose’s fists clenched. Was one allowed to strike a horrid girl in the face at a musicale evening? Likely not. But, oh, how she was tempted.
‘How could you believe such horrid gossip?’
