Page 172 of His Grace, the Duke
The dowager gave Rosalie’s hand a pat. “Good. Love my son as he should be loved, manage this estate as it should be managed, and you’ll hear no complaints from me. I think... is it wrong of me to say that I think Elinor would be proud of you?” She raised her hand and tucked one of Rosalie’s dark curls behind her ear.
Rosalie’s eyes bloomed with tears at the touch. “I am not my mother,” she whispered.
“No,” the dowager replied. “You are something... more. You are wiser and stronger than ever we were. You will be the duchess I could have been, the duchess Ishouldhave been... the duchess worthy of wearing a tiara born out of love andself-sacrifice. A kind duchess. A loving one. You will do well here.”
A tear slipped down Rosalie’s cheek.
“And I brought it, you know,” the dowager added, rising to her feet.
Rosalie rose too. “Brought it?”
“The Duchess Mary tiara. Spun silver vining with diamond and amethyst grape clusters. You’ll need to wear something for the ball tomorrow night. A duchess must always be properly dressed,” she counseled with a frown. “You should wear it.”
Rosalie nodded, her voice still thick with emotion. “Thank you for your kindness to me. I-I don’t know where I’d be had you never written... had you never invited me to Alcott—”
“Do not dwell in the past, dear. Look forward. That’s what I do. Everything we do now is for our future, yes?”
Rosalie nodded again. “Yes.”
***
“Thank you, Sarah.” Rosalie smiled at her maid’s reflection in the mirror.
Sarah smiled back, stepping back from her handiwork. Rosalie’s hair was expertly styled in a column of curls. The dress was on, as were Rosalie’s long, white gloves. The finishing touch was to add her jewels. Rosalie glanced sidelong at the box on the edge of her dressing table.
It was the tiara. The one the third duke bought for his wife. The tiara that symbolized love and fidelity and the hope of a happy, growing family. This would be Rosalie’s first occasion to wear one. It felt significant. She wanted to remember the moment. Glancing back at Sarah’s reflection, she nodded.
With a giddy sigh, Sarah opened the handsome wooden box and lifted out the tiara. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, letting her fingers trace over the vine design. The purple amethysts that made up the grape clusters looked almost black as Sarah nestled the tiara atop Rosalie’s dark hair. “Earrings, Your Grace? Or a necklace?”
Rosalie shook her head, her eyes locked on her own reflection and the glitter of silver and diamonds atop her head. “No, nothing else.”
“Make a statement,” Sarah said with a knowing smile.
Rosalie caught her eye. “Thank you, Sarah.”
“Do you need anything else from me, Your Grace?”
“Nothing,” Rosalie replied, rising to her feet. “You may go. And do be sure to join us,” she called after Sarah’s retreating form. “It’s Christmas, and I want all the staff to enjoy at least one glass of punch. And all you young ladies are welcome to seek out a dance partner. You’ll remind everyone?”
Sarah paused at the door and dipped into a curtsy. “Yes, Your Grace.” She closed the door quietly behind her, leaving Rosalie alone in the room.
Far below her, the sounds of the growing house party echoed. The quartet was practicing, playing a merry jig. She could only imagine Elizabeth and Mariah were already below, leading a few others in a private dance. Rosalie checked the time on her mantel clock.
Six o’clock.
The ball was set to begin in one hour. Carriages were already lining up outside, delivering guests who were too excited to stay away a moment longer.
Nodding to her reflection in the mirror, she moved towards the door that connected her bedroom with an en suite sitting room, bathing chamber, and a dressing room she shared with James. The en suite rooms connected on the far side to his bedroom.
In two months, she’d already made many pleasant memories in all these rooms. Her men hardly ever slept separate from her. If they did, it was only one or two of them at a time. They were all careful to give her time alone with each of them. And she loved when they took their own time together too. Nothing pleased her more than to catch them together, entangled and in love, holding nothing back.
She stepped through her door into the sitting room, half expecting to find them waiting. But the room was empty. A door off to the left led to the bathing chamber, but the other door directly across was wide open, leading through to the dressing room. She crossed that room too, seeing the door to James’ room open.
She heard them before she saw them.
“Don’t tell her,” came James’ curt voice. “Not yet. At least, not tonight.”
“I agree,” said Burke.
