Page 66 of His Grace, the Duke
Tom took another step closer, but George gave an exaggerated stretch and a yawn.
“Well, I’m beat. You”—he snapped his fingers at the footman—“Go get my valet. Have him meet me upstairs. I require a hot bath and a hot chocolate.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” the footman replied, darting away down the hall.
George glanced at Rosalie. “Shall you be quite safe with them, Cabbage? Or shall I order the other footman to stay as your guard?”
“Why wouldn’t she be safe with us?” James snapped.
“Because after tonight, it’s clear you three don’t know how to provide our Cabbage with the proper care she deserves,” George replied.
This sent Burke’s mind spinning like a top. What the hell happened at that concert?
“As her friend, I am heartily ashamed of you all,” George finished with a frown.
James huffed. “Since when are you two friends?”
“Since tonight,” George replied. “I made it part of her official ward duties.”
Burke groaned at the same time as James. “That’s not how that works,” Tom muttered.
Rosalie was still looking at him strangely. Burke knew Tom had noticed from the way his hands were twitching to reach out for her. But he wouldn’t dare show that kind of tenderness in front of George and the servants.
“Rose . . . what happened?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she replied, her expression closed off.
“Tonight, you left her to the wolves. That’s what happened.”George pointed a finger at each of them. “If any of you mean to deserve her, do better.” He gave her a quick peck on her temple. “Good night, Cabbage.” With that, he spun on his heel and headed for the stairs.
Finch, the remaining footman, glanced anxiously from George’s retreating form to James. “My lord, shall I...”
James frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Go to bed, Finch. It’s been a long night. Please have a maid meet Miss Harrow in her room.”
“Yes, my lord,” Finch replied, disappearing in the same direction as the other footman.
Burke was the first to turn to Rosalie.
“I need a drink,” she said quickly. Stepping around all three of them, she walked away towards the drawing room.
“You need to tell us what the hell happened tonight,” James called after her.
Burke put a warning hand on his shoulder. James was quickly losing his temper. “Go gently,” he muttered in James’ ear.
James shrugged him off.
The three of them entered the drawing room to find Rosalie at the sideboard, pouring herself a drink. Damn, but she looked beautiful in that dress.
“Rose, for the love of God, I’m dying here,” Tom said, crossing to her side. “What happened tonight?”
Her body was stiff. No playfulness, no romance. She turned to James. “Did you know?”
“Know what?”
“The gossip columns,” she replied. James stiffened, saying nothing. “You did, then,” she murmured, taking a small sip ofgin. “Were you ever going to tell me the papers were writing about us?”
“Whatever George told you, I guarantee you it is not that bad,” James hedged. “It was a few articles in some of the rags.”
“The papers love to make trouble,” Tom added gently. “It will pass in a few days. George was wrong to stir you up like this.”
