Page 7 of A Duke to Elude (Sherton Sisters 1)

Chapter Three

“What were you doing with Wexford?”

Her sister’s hiss couldn’t quite dispel her bemusement. “I’m not quite sure,” Rosabel said to Hilaria as she struggled with her own puzzlement and was now confronted with her sister’s ire.

“Dukes aremyforte, Rosabel. Don’t you dare set your cap at him.”

“Hilaria Sherton, don’tyoudare be so vulgar as to accuse me of setting my cap at someone.”

“Then don’tdosomething so vulgar as setting your cap. Especially not at a duke. They’re mine.”

“Hil, lower your voice. If someone hears you, they’ll know you’ve lost your mind.”

Glancing around, Rosabel knew no one had heard them. They were both skilled at the social scene. Well, on second thought, perhaps Hilaria’s skills were less than stellar. But she had still managed to keep her voice low enough not to be overheard, even as she harangued her sister. It was all Rosabel could do not to roll her eyes and gnash her teeth. They had been nearly inseparable as children, but now Bel couldn’t understand her sister at all.

With a soft sigh, Rosabel didn’t bother saying anything else to her sister, merely casting her a slight glare before turning on her heel to join her mother as she was seeing off the remaining guests.

Going through the motions of the social niceties, Rosabel was relieved that the family didn’t have any plans for the rest of the day. There had been such a flurry of activities and preparations leading up to the wedding, besides the early morning that day, Bel was looking forward to curling up in her room and reading or maybe even just going to bed, although she would never have admitted as such to anyone else. She needed to process what had taken place that day and decide how she would treat the duke on the morrow.

Finally, they waved off the last of the guests, and Rosabel was able to make her escape to her room. Her maid was waiting to take down her hair and help her out of her wedding finery.

“Thank you so much, Sally. I have been itching to remove this gown since about ten minutes after I left the room.”

“Literally or figuratively?” the maid asked with a giggle.

“Both, unfortunately,” Bel admitted with a sigh. “I never would have thought this fabric would cause an itch. It looks soft enough. And the gown itself is elegant and beautiful, but I just couldn’t be comfortable.”

“Must be the lace around the edge,” Sally opined prosaically. “And the occasion,” she added with a pointed exchange of glances with her mistress.

Bel exhaled a long breath and then allowed her first genuine smile of the day to split her face. “You are quite correct. The occasion made me itch.”

“Was it completely dreadful?” Sally puttered about the room, gathering the more comfortable garb her lady would prefer for the restful day at home she had planned.

“Not dreadful in the least, on one hand,” Bel admitted. “Georgia should be quite pleased with how her wedding day turned out. My mother quite outdid herself, and no one could find the least thing to be displeased about. Cook exceeded himself, and the servants were exceptional in their service.”

“So why the glum face, then?” The maid had been assigned to Rosabel when she turned fourteen and was more like a friend than a servant. Bel knew it was highly inappropriate, but she valued the relationship. “You mentioned you were happy for your sister’s friend.” There was a pause before she asked, “But you wish one of these weddings were your own?”

“You got it on the first try, Sally.” Bel smiled for a moment before sobering. “But not just any husband, mind you. And I don’t envy Georgia her groom. Only his devotion.”

“Seems to me that there’s something else troubling you, though, m’lady. We’ve already discussed your feelings about Crossley as well as Miss Georgia’s wedding.”

Bel sighed. “Wexford invited me to go for a drive with him tomorrow.”

“At the fashionable hour?” the maid asked, sounding excited before another thought occurred to her and her eyes widened. “Does Lady Hilaria know?”

Rosabel grimaced at the maid. “She took me to task for allowing the duke to speak with me, if you can imagine. I haven’t the first idea how she thought I could refuse to even speak with him. So, no, I haven’t yet informed her that he invited me to drive.” She sighed and sank onto the bench in front of her dressing table. “Ought I to have refused his invitation, do you think, Sally? And how would I go about refusing a duke’s invitation anyway?”

Sally nodded sympathetically at her mistress. “Well, youarean earl’s daughter. Surely you could refuse him if you wished.”

“Of course, I could, except Mother would cast me from the family if she were to find out about it.”

The maid giggled, agreeing there was a degree of truth to her lady’s dramatic words.

Bel sighed again. “But for the first time ever, I find a gentleman at least a trifle intriguing. And really, how can Hilaria think she has a right to lay claim to any and all coronets in the realm? She couldn’t force his attentions upon herself. If he wishes to escort me, it’s not for me to demure.”

“So, you like this duke?”

Rosabel shrugged. “I don’t know, Sally. He’s handsome beyond belief. And it’s not the showy sort of handsome that is merely the result of creative tailoring. He’s the sort of handsome that will likely age well. But for me, the most attractive trait is that I felt like he really saw me. Not just the pretty trappings that everyone seems to admire. I felt as though he listened to me. It was the first time since my debut that I felt as though a gentleman were truly listening to me. It was most attractive.”

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