Page 71 of His Grace, the Duke
“The girl will be duchess of this house,” Rosalie replied. “Perhaps if we are all to live happily together, we might look for her merits rather than her faults.”
The duchess held her gaze, those blue eyes the same shade and shape as her eldest son’s. “And what of me, Miss Harrow? Are you to look for my merits rather than my faults?”
“I don’t typically look at people to find fault with them, Your Grace. I prefer to find the beauty in things. It is the artist in me... the ever-reluctant optimist.”
The duchess huffed at that.
Rosalie decided to offer an olive branch. “In your case, I need not look very hard... your merits being so evident in the running of this house, the quality of your staff, the generosity of your sons.” She paused before adding, “As well as your demonstrated generosity towards me. You paid my family’s debts. I have not forgotten.”
“And yet, yesterday you threatened to expose me in front of my children,” the duchess snarled. “I confided in you, I helped you, and you were ready to use it against me. You think after three weeks in this world you’re ready to take on a duchess and win? You think to put me in my place?”
Rosalie just shrugged. “I think, to quote your son, I am a lioness. I will fight for those I love and for those too weak to fight for themselves.”
The duchess narrowed her eyes. “And James is weak in your eyes?”
“I said nothing about James,” Rosalie replied. “His Grace calls me the lioness. You fought so hard to earn him his title, schemed so beautifully, and I think part of you now resents him for it. You are cruel to him, and I will not tolerate it. As his ward, I issue you this warning: Hurt him with unkind words in my presence again, and I will tear at your throat until no words are left.”
The duchess blinked, unshed tears in her eyes. Slowly, she nodded her approval. “He doesn’t deserve you, you know,” she whispered.
A faint smile tipped Rosalie’s lips. “True, but he has me all the same.”
The ladies held each other’s gaze for a moment before the duchess leaned in and whispered, “Will you tell him what you know?”
Rosalie didn’t need to ask which son she referred to now. “No... but perhaps you should. About the money... about everything. James values honesty above all else. You will not keep him close to you if you cannot learn to be honest with him.”
Even as she said the words, she saw them for the cruel joke they were. But she’d given her promise, and she meant to keep it. James would not be hearing about his mother’s past from her lips. And if he couldn’t respect her decision to honor her oath, well... then perhaps they were too incompatible to ever work.
The duchess squared her shoulders, giving her little dog another pat. “I think I shall take a walk in the garden. Moppet needs some fresh air... will you join me, Miss Rose?”
Rosalie smiled. “I would be happy to, Your Grace.”
32
Rosalie
The duchess’ planto stroll the back gardens quickly turned into a morning promenade at the park. All the ladies opted to join in. They put on their fanciest hats and most fashionable dresses, carrying an odd collection of muffs and parasols between them, for it was a cool and windy day, but sunny.
Rosalie walked alongside Prudence, who let her little corgi trot between them on a leather lead. Olivia walked just ahead with Elizabeth. She looked austere in a dark velvet cap trimmed with feathers and a plum pelisse. In contrast, Elizabeth looked like the sun itself in a bright yellow ensemble that clashed spectacularly with her mane of fiery red hair.
The park was busy, as all of London seemed to share the idea of enjoying one of the last truly fine days of autumn. The strong breeze had several families flying kites on the long stretch of green lawn. In their excitement, Blanche and Mariah were already several yards ahead of the rest of the group, waving down a man selling sugared almonds.
The arrival of the Dowager Duchess of Norland and her retinue caused quite a stir. Rosalie couldn’t help but beimpressed. Any hint of the scheming, snarling creature from the day before was locked tightly away. Now the duchess was all smiles, flanked by the countess and marchioness, the bevy of young ladies trailing in their wake. All down the promenade lane, other ladies not-so-subtly corrected course so that they might pass by, hoping to spy something of the latest fashions and receive a public acknowledgment from the duchess.
But Rosalie didn’t care about the social politics of promenading. She eyed Olivia carefully, trying to note her mood. She meant what she’d said this morning—Burke needed to talk to her, and soon. Perhaps if Rosalie laid a bit of a foundation with the lady now, his way would be easier later.
The trouble was, since her arrival to Corbin House, Olivia had kept herself even more aloof and apart. It made sense, seeing as the duchess was effectively blackmailing her. Rosalie could only imagine how the Rutledges felt, forced to simper and smile. All the while, a Sword of Damocles hovered over their heads.
The group congregated near a new art installation, and Rosalie took her chance. She stepped up next to Olivia. “It’s lovely, isn’t it?” she said, gesturing to a sculpture of two lovers sharing an intimate embrace.
Olivia just sniffed. “I have no eye for sculpture.”
Rosalie glanced around. “Then might we take a turn over by the flower garden?”
With an indifferent shrug, Olivia began walking in that direction. Rosalie fell into step beside her, making sure to keep the rest of the group in sight. The wind gusted at their backs, billowing their skirts forward. As soon as they were clear of the others, she glanced at her companion. “And how are you this morning?”
“Come now, Miss Harrow,” Olivia said with the hint of a smile. “You have me alone and that is your great query?”
Rosalie smiled. She was determined to think of this lady as the personification of a hedgehog—prickly on the outside with a soft underbelly. Rosalie just had to find her way in. She opted for sarcasm, meeting her companion barb for barb. “Yes, you saw through my clever ruse. I worked quite carefully to extract you from the others.”
