Page 60 of A Translation of Desire
Was she right? Could he have a future with the outrageous scholarly temptress? No, he wouldn’t allow his mind to wander in that direction. Their time together was to be temporary.
“Sinclair, may I have my wife back?” Derry glowered at him, yet amusement lurked in his eyes.
Sophia’s and her husband’s eyes met, and a look of pure adoration passed between them. Jealousy flared within him, not for Sophia but for the emotion he saw between his two loved-up friends. Rose flashed in his mind.
Chapter Twenty
London, England– November 1850
Rose heard Lisbeth’svoice intermingled with two other voices in the foyer. She frowned, wondering who else could be with her. Then, a girl cried, “Stop shoving.”
Intrigued, she wandered out of the drawing room and into the expansive foyer to find Lisbeth, and she assumed her two children—a girl who looked to be about eleven or twelve and a boy a few years younger. The boy was fair-haired like Lisbeth, but Rose sucked in a breath as she studied the duchess’s daughter.
She looked nothing like her mother. No, her chestnut hair reminded her of someone else’s. Her eyes flew to Lisbeth’s, who stared back at her nervously. It wasn’t her business, Rose told herself, and she may be wrong—a good deal of London was filled with people all walking around with similar hair coloring. She wouldn’t focus on it. Rose made herself smile at the children who were now studying her as she observed them and their mother.
The girl wrinkled her nose. “You have pants on. Why?”
Rose looked down. She’d forgotten that she was wearing trousers. Smiling at the young girl, she said, “They are more comfortable.”
The girl’s interest was piqued. “Really?”
“Alice and Jeremy, this is Miss Rose Calvert.”
Rose walked to them. “You may call me Rose.”
Both of the children looked back at their mother, and Lisbeth nodded. “You may. She is an old family friend.”
Alice smiled at Rose and then turned back to her mother. “May I wear trousers?”
Lisbeth shot Rose a glare, but she just shrugged at the duchess. Lisbeth smiled at Alice and Jeremy. “Perhaps, but why don’t you both go see how your bedchambers fared while you were away? I suspect someone on the staff left you treats as they always do.”
Both children darted out of the foyer without any further discussion. Silence hung between Rose and Lisbeth. Finally, hating the awkwardness, Rose said, “They seem delightful.”
Lisbeth snorted. “They are both very naughty. Still, since the break-in, I’ve wanted them close by.”
Rose nodded. The awkwardness of so much left unsaid bounced between them. Making it only worse, Rose said, “They look so different from one another.”
Why the hell did she say that? Lisbeth flushed. “Yes, Jeremy takes after me, and Alice takes after her father.”
Rose’s thoughts went immediately in a direction that wasn’t her business.
“The duke,” Lisbeth added.
Yes, that made sense. Lisbeth’s husband could very well have a similar hair color. Why did Rose want to seek him out in a portrait? Her eyes darted to one on the wall, but he already had grey hair.
Awkwardness still hung between them. Lisbeth changed the subject. “Did I miss anything?”
She hadn’t told the club yet about everything she and Augustus had learned. “We met with Mr. Abbas.”
Excitement flared in Lisbeth’s eyes. “Did he have the tablets or know where they were located?”
Rose shook her head. “Unfortunately, he had relics with cuneiform text stolen from him as well. We did learn more about his work. He represents groups who are trying to have their artifacts returned to them. The tablets I’m translating are of great importance to a village in Syria.”
“Will you return them?” Lisbeth asked, frowning with concern.
“I think we can make a deal where they allow the Historical Society for Female Curators to display them, and then at a later date, they will be returned.”
A sigh escaped the duchess. “We will have to find the other two tablets first.”
