Page 42 of When He Was a Duke
“Some of us don’t need that education,” Lydia said sharply.
Honoria tilted her head, studying Lydia with newfound interest. “Indeed? With your circumstances, I would think you’d see the wisdom in my counsel.”
The implication hung in the air. Lydia had no dowry. Thus, she and Rose were in similar predicaments. No one wanted them.
Lydia’s face went rigid, and she clasped her hands so tightly in her lap that her knuckles whitened.
“That’s enough,” Rose said, standing abruptly. Not shaking. Not weeping. Her expression was calm. She would not let this horrid woman see her angst. “You’ve made your position clear, Mrs. Blackwell. And you’ve exhausted your welcome.”
Honoria rose gracefully, unruffled. “I understand you’re upset,dear. Strong emotions are natural when facing such important decisions.” She snapped her fingers at Violet, then gestured for her to rise to her feet. “But I hope you’ll consider what I’ve said. I advise with your future in mind. Someday, you’ll see that clearly.”
She helped Violet to her feet, her grip firm but appearing gentle. “Come, darling. We’ve imposed long enough.”
Violet didn’t speak, but she turned at the doorway, her eyes meeting Rose’s with a look so full of sorrow and sympathy that it pierced straight through her. In that glance, Rose saw her own future reflected—another woman trapped by circumstance, dependent on male protection, forced to smile while her gilded cage grew smaller.
The moment the door shut behind them, the ladies erupted.
Daphne let out a breath she’d clearly been holding. “That was… vile. She is vile. I’m sorry, sweet Rose.”
Lydia shook her head, voice tight. “How could anyone be born that mean?”
“Maybe she wasn’t,” Daphne murmured. “Maybe this world made her that way.”
“I don’t know about either of you, but I’m suddenly in need of something stronger than tea.” Arabella stalked to the drinks cart and poured herself a generous measure of sherry. “Anyone else?”
Daphne and Lydia nodded, rising to pour their own. Arabella poured a fourth glass and returned to press it into Rose’s hands.
Rose hadn’t moved. She was afraid if she did, she might shatter.
Arabella sat beside her, voice gentling. “We’ll figure a way out of this. I meant what I said—I’ll take you in, if it comes to that.”
Rose looked up, her voice a thread. “You’d really do that? Even knowing the scandal could destroy you?”
“Let me worry about my reputation,” Arabella replied, though the subdued edge in her tone betrayed the weight of it. “What matters now is keeping you safe. And sane.”
“We will all help,” Lydia added firmly. “Arabella and I have themeans, and we’ll use them.”
“I’ll do what I can too,” Daphne said. “Even if it’s just standing beside you.”
Rose’s hands trembled around the glass. “That means more than you know. I’ve always wanted a family of my own. To love a good man and have children together. I used to think that might fill the space left by Mummy. But if I marry him, all those dreams are merely dreams. Never to come true. It’s either marry Baron White, or they’ll have me put away.”
She trailed off. The unspoken words were louder than anything she could have said.
Arabella’s expression darkened. “Proving you unfit wouldn’t be easy, but if your father’s determined, it’s not impossible.”
“I have to wonder—why Baron White?” Rose asked, thinking out loud. “There are other wealthy men.”
Arabella hesitated. “Have you ever wondered why your Season went so poorly?”
Rose’s throat tightened. “Father told me it was because I was awkward. Too bookish and quiet. He mentioned my lack of conversational skills.”
“And you believed him?”
“What else was I to think? I was ignored at every ball. I sat against the wall like a forgotten chair. Even the fortune hunters kept their distance.”
Arabella leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “There’s a reason for that. And it has nothing to do with your character or beauty. Your father is not the man Society pretends he is.”
Daphne frowned. “What do you mean?”
