Page 8 of A Duke to Elude (Sherton Sisters 1)

Rosabel sighed again. “But one of the things he was listening to me about was my thoughts about the wallflowers at our reception for Georgia and Crossley. He saw me speaking with these three young women, Miss Perkins and the Misses Bridgestone. When he asked me about it, I couldn’t clearly express myself, as I didn’t rightly know what I was doing when I had approached them. It was a most awkward experience. So, I’m not completely sure how I feel about Wexford’s invitation. Is he amusing himself at my expense? Is he merely curious about what I’m up to? Does he perhaps have an interest in one of those women?” She quickly interrupted herself. “Well, no, that one’s a foolish idea. If he were interested in one of them, he would speak to them directly. He barely knows me. He would surely not consider using me for such an action.”

Sally giggled again. “You have yourself worked up into quite a taking, m’lady. Now simmer yourself down a wee bit while I brush out your hair for you. You’ll feel better presently.”

This time, when Bel sighed, it was one of pleasure rather than disquiet. “Thank you, Sally. You were right, I just needed to be quiet and relax for a moment. Perhaps I have been running around just a little too much of late.”

“You have been dreadfully busy.”

Rosabel wrinkled her nose at her maid in the mirror. “But most of the busyness is just for the sake of being busy, really, isn’t it, Sally? It’s not as though we’re being useful contributors to the good of others.”

“Are you sure you aren’t coming down sick, m’lady? You don’t usually concern yourself with such matters.” The friendly maid sounded worried, making Bel feel even worse.

“That’s just the very problem, Sally. I don’t concern myself with such matters. That’s the entire point. What sort of selfish creature am I that I have never thought about such things?”

Sally appeared to be torn between amusement and worry for her mistress. “Well, you are the daughter of an earl, m’lady. You haven’t been presented with the less favorable side of life overmuch.”

Bel shrugged. “Perhaps not overmuch, but I rather think I shouldn’t have been quite so oblivious.”

“Do not be so very hard on yourself, m’lady. Tell me why this is troubling you so.”

With a sigh, Rosabel slumped from her usual correct posture. “I can’t rightly say. I am troubled by the fact that I never really thought about wallflowers or those who must make a match to keep their families fed before now. But I’m also troubled by the fact that those situations exist. And I’m troubled by the fact that I wish none of it troubled me.” She allowed a small puff of air that could have passed for a laugh and paused for a moment before adding, “My life of unconcern for everyone but myself was quite comfortable.”

She closed her eyes and relaxed into her maid’s brush strokes on her hair. Opening her eyes once more, she added her final concern, “And now there’s Wexford. And my sister’s declaration of desiring a coronet being attached to me somehow. Hilaria will feed me to the Sherton pigs if she thinks I’ve stolen a duke from her. Not to say that I have. For one thing, one cannot steal a duke. For another, it could be perfectly innocuous.”

Meeting her maid’s gaze in the mirror, Rosabel nodded and laughed a little. “I know. Dukes don’t do innocuous.” Another slight sigh slipped past her lips. “I cannot decide how I feel about Wexford, to be honest. Not to say that he isn’t remarkably handsome, but there’s just something so remote about the man most of the time.”

“One might say the same about you. It could perhaps be a good match for you, m’lady.”

“That’s questionable, Sally. If we’re both remote, it doesn’t seem to me there would be much conversation.” Bel smiled slightly before sobering. “And I don’t know what Hil is thinking to be so enamored with dukes. It seems to me, being a duchess would be a great deal of work and a massive responsibility.”

“Do you think you aren’t up for it?”

Rosabel’s smile widened even as her eyebrows rose toward her hairline. “Are you trying to present it to me as a challenge by any chance?”

The maid shrugged. “Not really, but I do think you would make a perfect duchess.”

Bel narrowed her eyes at the servant. “You just want to elevate your own station.” She had to laugh at the maid’s guilty expression. “Surely, you do realize that serving a duchess is probably far more challenging than a mere earl’s daughter.”

“I’m fairly certain I would be up for the challenge, as well, m’lady.”

Bel laughed. “I’m fairly certain we are getting far ahead of ourselves quite needlessly.”

“You accepted his grace’s invitation.”

“I did,” she admitted. “Really, it seemed unavoidable. I know it’s been mentioned already, but can you even imagine the countess’ reaction if she were to learn that I had refused him?”

“I do shudder to consider it. You were right to accept.”

“There really was no choice, but I cannot decide if I’m looking forward to it or dreading it.”

Shaking off her unusually thoughtful mood, Rosabel stood from her dressing table and, after a quick smile at her maid, donned the comfortable gown she was holding and headed toward the window seat and the book she had left there earlier. She had been anticipating the quiet time that afternoon and looking forward to it for days. She hoped the book she had chosen would be interesting enough to keep her mind off her concerns for long enough that she could relax.

Rosabel woke up when her book hit the floor with a thud. She had to laugh. She supposed it had done the trick of relaxing her if she had been able to fall asleep, but it had clearly not been the scintillating story she had been hoping for if it had lulled her into oblivion. With a sigh, she stooped to pick up the volume and decided she might as well mark the day as complete. If she went to bed now, perhaps she’d be returned to her normal self by morning.

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