Page 24 of His Grace, the Duke
She broke the kiss, smoothing down his cravat with her hands. “We’ll talk more tomorrow. Good night, Renley.”
He tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “Good night, Rose.”
She turned away to find Burke waiting for her. His arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders as he peppered her forehead and temple with soft kisses. “I love you,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. “You are safe here. Safe with me—withus.”
She turned her face into the hand that cupped her cheek, kissing his palm. She raised her own hand to hold his there, letting his warmth soak into her skin. “Good night.”
He kissed her lips once, twice, letting her go. “Good night, love.”
***
Rosalie found her way upstairs through the dark house back to her room. She opened the door and let out a little gasp. The maids had certainly been busy. The sheets were turned down, the curtains closed, and a cozy fire crackled in the hearth. Not to mention the new feminine touches everywhere—bouquets of fresh flowers large and small sat on each surface, lace doilies dotted the side and end tables, and there was now a stocked dressing table with glass bottles of perfume and hair powder in the corner, blocking access to the shelved linen closet.
Paulette had also followed through with her promise. Stylish dress and hat boxes sat stacked in the opposite corner. Rosalie went to the armoire and pulled open both doors. It was full of all her new clothes. She recognized most of them as things she’d tried on earlier... but there were a few new selections too.
She pulled open each drawer, noting the carefully folded petticoats and chemises, new stockings and garters, stays—both half and full, and a pile of colored, silky underthings that Rosalie was positive James had not ordered. She shut that drawer with a snap, stifling a giggle as she imagined him standing at the counter in Paulette’s shop asking to see samples.
She fished a chemise out of the top drawer and moved over to the mantel, tugging the servant’s cord. She only had to wait a few minutes before Fanny arrived. Rosalie was pleased to discover a sleek, modern bathing chamber was situated directly across the hall from her room. Soaking in the deep, copper tub did wonders for her aching muscles. She gave herhair a thorough wash with a fancy French tonic that smelled strongly of rose oil.
Within the hour, Fanny had Rosalie sitting at the dressing table back in her room. She meticulously brushed and set Rosalie’s hair. The dark curls around her face were wound up tight with bits of pink ribbon.
Fanny soon left, and Rosalie sank onto the bed, sighing with relief to be stretched out on the soft surface. She slipped her legs under the coverlet. She’d barely let herself settle when her doorknob rattled. She looked up, expecting it to be Fanny.
Of course, it wasn’t.
13
Rosalie
Burke stood barefootin the doorway, grey eyes narrowed as he scanned the room. His shirt was untucked, hanging loose on his broad frame. “I saw the light... what are you doing in here?”
Rosalie sighed. “Ask yourself, sir. Do you never knock on a lady’s door? It’s a terrible habit, and I mean to break you of it.”
“You haven’t seemed to mind in the past,” he replied, still looking around.
“I have minded every time,” she cried. “Burke, why are you in here?”
“Why areyouin here?”
“Well, I’m not shoeing horses, am I?” She gestured to her position on the bed with an irritated wave of her hand. “I’m trying to sleep, or at least Iwasuntil you barged in.”
He moved over nearer to the fireplace, inspecting the stack of dress boxes. “Who put you in here?”
An unsettling feeling sank into her chest. “Why... what’s wrong with this room?” She crawled out of the bed, her fatigue forgotten. “Oh, Iknewthere was something. Is ithaunted?” Why that was her first thought, she had no idea. She clearly read too many gothic novels. Either way, panic leeched up her spine. “I swear, if James put me in here as some kind of cruel joke—”
Burke turned sharply. “James put you in here?”
Rosalie wrapped her arms around her middle. “Burke, please just tell me what’s going on.”
The corner of his mouth tipped into a smile. Turning on his heel, he swept from the room, closing the door softly behind him.
Rosalie stood next to her bed, mouth open in surprise. “What—Burke,” she hissed, rushing over towards the door. “You cannot just leave like that!”
As she settled her hand on the knob, there came a rattling behind her. She shrieked and spun around, pressing herself against the door.
Scritch . . . scratch.
The soft sounds came from the opposite door. The door clicked open and swung inward to reveal Burke yet again. He was backlit by a warm fire glowing in the connecting room.
