Page 102 of His Grace, the Duke
“Your Grace—”
“Now, I don’t want to alarm you,” he murmured. “But you should know that our delightful little friend Mrs. Young has been watching us from the arbor since the moment I sidled up to your back.”
Rosalie stiffened, not daring to look behind her. “She’s there now?”
“Yes.”
“Is she watching us?”
“Oh yes... though she pretends she is not.” He leaned in closer. “What did I tell you last time about embarrassing me?”
Rosalie swallowed, doing her best to square her shoulders. “I must keep the high ground.”
“That’s my girl,” he said with a grin. “Now, go enjoy the party. Just be wary of any shadows dressed in a gaudy lavender gown.”
47
Rosalie
Rosalie made therounds of each room, taking in the general splendor. All the while, she glanced over her shoulder, expecting Marianne to descend. What the woman hoped to gain by antagonizing her, Rosalie didn’t know. Tom was lost to her forever. Rosalie meant to see to it. As if thoughts of the man could conjure him, he appeared across the room in his handsome naval uniform. His curls were as unruly as ever. She wanted to run her fingers through them. His eyes were narrowed as he scanned the room. Once he found her, the tension in his shoulders eased and he was crossing to her side.
“Good evening, Lieutenant,” she said at his approach, dipping slightly into a curtsy.
His steps faltered, as did his smile, but he quickly recovered. She understood his annoyance, but they were in public. Eyes eagerly watched their every move... and not all of them were friendly.
“Miss Harrow,” he murmured. “You look devastating tonight. Yellow suits you.” His eyes trailed down her form and back up, sending heat to her already warm cheeks.
“You were out very late last night, sir.”
“All night, in fact,” he replied. “Dinner ran long, and many drinks were imbibed. My captain’s wife demanded we stay.” He leaned in, turning his body slightly to step in behind her. “Why... did you miss me?”
“Parts of you,” she teased with a smile.
“Tell me which parts, and I shall be sure you do not miss them again tonight.”
Before she could reply, Burke joined them, two glasses of punch in hand. He handed her one, slipping along the wall on her other side.
“Where’s mine?” Tom muttered.
“I only had two hands,” Burke replied. “And you have two strong legs. Walk over and get it yourself.”
“Not a chance,” Tom said with a laugh. “You only want me to leave so you can monopolize her.” Reaching out, he snatched Burke’s glass and drained it.
“Hey,” Burke growled.
Rosalie smiled, loving the feel of them to either side of her. So at ease, so friendly.
“Good God... that’s Charlie Broadwood,” Tom said, his eyes alighting on a tall sailor who had just passed the open doorway. “Excuse me a moment.”
“Bring back more punch!” Burke called.
Tom strolled away with a wave of his hand, leaving Rosalie in the corner with Burke.
“Have you seen James?” she murmured.
“He was still greeting guests with the duchess last I checked.” Slipping her glass from her hand, he took a sip and grimaced. “Gah, why does it even taste pink?”
She giggled. “Would you prefer a tall glass of beer?”
