Page 29 of A Duke for Stealing
Though she’d never received birthday congratulations from anyone aside from her friends, Rose found the tradition quite quaint and wholesome. In fact, the more tasks she was takingover the late Duchess’s duties, the more she realized why the woman was rarely gossiped about. All of her deeds were kind and well-meaning. It was clear that the woman had a big heart, and she had tried very much to include everyone within her vicinity in it.
“How would you like your dinner served this evening, Your Grace?” Mrs. Mulberry asked.
“Tonight shall be different, Mrs. Mulberry,” Rose replied. “Have the cook send dinner to the sitting room, if you please, and have the maids decorate the table in a more whimsical fashion. Some bright colors and patterns. Perhaps some streamers. You know, anything a little girl might like.”
Mrs. Mulberry gave her a funny look, but bowed and replied, “As you wish, Your Grace.”
The last two days had been full for Rose, with very little time left to spend with the twins other than to pop in and wish them goodnight since their nightmares. It was time to change that, she’d decided earlier, and establish a deeper level of trust with the girls.
“Hello, girls,” she greeted cheerily when their nurse led them into the decorated sitting room.
Their eyes lit up as they looked over the paper crowns, streamers, and bright splashes of pink and purple that had taken over the room’s usual beiges and light reds.
“Is this a party?” Diana asked, her voice full of wonder.
“I thought it would be fun to have one,” Rose replied, walking toward them with outstretched hands. “Just for us ladies.”
Diana went to reach for Rose’s hand, but Leah quickly grabbed her twin and pulled her back. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as she stopped looking at the decorations and focused on Rose.
“What for?” Leah asked warily.
Although Rose felt her smile start to slip, she quickly fixed it and gave a playful shrug.
“Can you give me a reason why not?” She asked.
“Because we do not wish to have a pity party,” Leah replied quickly, her little cheeks flushing red. “This is what that is, is it not? Because you saw us cry the other night?”
Rose let out a weary sigh as she sank to her knees before the girls so she could meet their eyes.
“It is all right to cry, you know,” she said, “When I was little, I cried quite a lot.”
Leah gave her a dubious look that made her look far older than she truly was.
“What would you need to cry for?” She asked.
Rose pressed her lips together. She wanted to share her story, she realized, but she didn’t want to be involved in a contest of emotions.
“Well, when I was just a little older than you, I lost my father, too. And my Mama, before we lost him, was like my best friend.”
She paused, swallowing. She’d never told her side of the story before, not even to her friends.
“She changed, though. Quite drastically after his death. They were not in love, as your parents were, yet when he died, I believe the rational part of her did too.”
Leah screwed her lips to the side, casting her eyes to the carpet.
“That is unfortunate, Lady Rose,” she answered stiffly.
“But you see, there was a saving grace,” Rose added quickly, not wanting to let the conversation go too deep, “I had my friends to help me. Theo, Ophelia, Amelia, and later my dear friend Seraphina. I was able to find some happiness because of them. And I would like to be the same to you.”
Leah raised a curious brow.
“You want to be our friend?” She asked.
Rose’s smile returned, and she nodded her head.
“Oh, yes. Very much,” she agreed. “You were right before, Leah. I cannot replace your Mama. But I can be a good friend. If you allow me.”
Leah slowly brought her gaze up from the carpet, met Rose’s eyes for a long, steady stare, then flicked it toward the decorations beyond.
