Page 23 of His Grace, the Duke
Burke dragged a hand through his dark hair.
“I’ve never played matchmaker,” Renley admitted. “It’s quite possible my involvement will make things worse, seeing as I can never manage to say the right thing when it counts... but you have my help all the same. What must we do?”
Rosalie smiled. “To begin, the three of you will write me a list of eligible bachelors. Then, we’ll contrive reasons to bring them in contact with Olivia. The whole Alcott house party will come to Town, yes?” she asked, looking to James.
James nodded. “I don’t see how they’ll avoid it. George will drum up enough enthusiasm. We’ll have a full house in a day or two.”
“Good. Until Burke is down that aisle, we still have time,” she replied.
James pushed back from the table and stood. “Where are you going?” Rosalie said, eyes wide.
He snatched up his plate of half-eaten food. “Back to my study. There is much to do, and no time to do it. It appears I’ll be working through the night.”
She stood too. “Let me help you—”
“No.” The word was harsh, almost a bark.
Rosalie flinched. “You can share the load with us,” she replied. “Let me help with the engagement party, at least. It was my idea—”
“Tomorrow,” he replied. “Get some rest. I’m sure we’ll scheme better in the morning. And eat some of this. Don’t let it go to waste.”
He didn’t wait for the others to try and stop him. Holding his plate of food in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, he shouldered his way out of the dining room.
12
Rosalie
“I’ve lost myappetite,” Burke muttered, sitting back in his chair and pushing his plate away. He reached for the wine instead. “Rose... are you alright?”
Rosalie glanced across the table at Renley. His concern was genuine as he took in her every expression, trying to determine how he might help. Was she alright? Since arriving at Alcott, all her carefully laid plans had unraveled. Was it any wonder she felt so wild and unconfined when no part of her life was going according to plan? She’d been freefalling for weeks, like a bird tumbling through the sky, caught on a sharp wind. One gust might blow her left, even while she beat helplessly with her wings to fly right.
Renley must have sensed her turmoil. “Tell us what you need, Rose. Are you hungry?”
Burke was watching her too, those stormy eyes settling back to a soft grey now that the excitement was over.
She let out a slow exhale, looking around at the splendor of the feast growing cold on all the plates. The idea of putting cold mutton with a pea mash in her mouth made her want togag. “I... um... no,” she replied. “I think I will retire. A bath and some sleep will set me right.”
“Shall I show you to your room?” offered Burke.
“I know the way.” She glanced from Renley to Burke. She was sure Renley was desperate to say more, but she felt too fragile to handle more emotionality tonight. “I know how you all like to gossip about me... You have my permission to ask Burke anything.”
“I wasn’t going to gossip,” Renley replied. “I just want to know you’re alright. I want... last night with Marianne—”
She raised a hand. “Please, don’t. I believe you that it was not as she said, that you made her no promises. I just... I need a little time. Let me sleep on it?”
Renley was all man: broad and strong, with that sharply chiseled jaw. But in this moment, he looked almost boyish with his tousled curls and wide blue eyes, all full of hope and fear. He was anxious for her acceptance, anxious to say everything now and have it out in the open. She fought the urge to run her hand through those curls. She longed for the comfort of his arms around her, like they were in the storage room, her cheek pressed against the anchor tattooed on his chest.
That was never in the plan either. These men wereneverin her plan. Now look at her, longing for them both. Renley was her safe harbor and Burke was her storm. Home and freedom. Peace and passion.
Not in the plan . . . but plans change.
And thank God for that.
She moved around the table, the satin of her dress whispering across the polished wooden floor. Renley was closer, so it was him she went to first, her arms wrapping around his waist as she pressed herself against him, her face buried in hiscravat. His arms were around her in an instant as he sighed into her embrace. She breathed in his intoxicating scent of sea and salt and sun. How could a person smell like bottled sunshine, even in the dead of night?
He kissed the top of her head, resting his face there and breathing her in. He wasn’t quite so tall as Burke, but he was broader, thicker at the waist and more muscled. He tipped her chin up. “Did I ruin this before I even had the chance to try for it?” he murmured, searching her eyes.
Smiling, she pulled him down to her, meeting her lips with his, tasting the sweet notes of red wine on his mouth. His hands moved to her face as he angled her exactly how he wanted her, teasing with his tongue until she opened for him. They kissed soft and slow, reassuring each other that the comfort and friendship they both felt still thrummed strongly between them.
