Page 40 of Rose and the Rogue
Rosalind was still recovering her breath from that last kiss when Poppy returned in a hurry, her breathing a bit strained, Mr. de la Guerra trailing her by several steps.
“My lord,” Poppy said with no trace of deference. “It seems your friend here lost track of time. But I am ready to take my cousin back to her parents. Now.”
Dutifully, Adrian stepped away, not before placing Rose’s hand back into Poppy’s. “Farewell, ladies,” he said. “You’ve reminded me how much I like these gardens.”
“I like them too,” his friend added. “Though it seems I do have to watch my step.”
“Cherish the memory of the evening, then, gentlemen,” Poppy snapped. “Because I’m not going to allow this to ever happen again, either to Rose or to me. You may keep your schemes to yourselves. Good night!”
She hustled Rose back toward where the Blakes awaited, but after a moment, she stopped again.
“What is it?” Rose asked. She hadn’t noticed her walking stick striking any obstacle. “Is there something in the path?”
“No, but you must tell me. Did he kiss you?” Poppy whispered. “You look like he kissed you. Your cheeks are all flushed! Was it a good kiss? Oh, my lord, he’s a rake, of course it was a good kiss.”
“Yes, it was, but please don’t make me talk about it now,” Rose begged.
“Later, then. But don’t think you’ll evade telling me what happened. I hope it was worth it, and I hope we don’t get in trouble for this. We’ll both be kept under lock and key for the rest of our lives.”
Poppy led her back to the table where their family sat, vowing that she’d get the story out of Rosalind when they retired. The girls had only been gone for about twenty minutes or so, though to Rose it seemed like a year had passed. She felt much older, and more bewildered at the world.
Rose listened to her parents’ happy talk, and smiled dutifully when acquaintances stopped by the table. In one case, a man named Mr. Miller approached and asked to dance with Poppy, and she somewhat surprisingly agreed. (He was a frequent caller at the house, and Poppy had deemed him slightly dull but ultimately inoffensive.)
They left Vauxhall when Mrs. Blake announced that she was growing tired, and the still-reeling Rose was happy to return home as well.
Late that same night, Poppy entered their bedroom.
“Are you asleep?” she asked Rose, who was already tucked into bed.
“Not at all.”
“Dreaming of your beau?” Poppy asked teasingly.
The voice that answered was morose. “I can’t dream if I’m not asleep.”
“Daydreaming, then.”
“It’s not day.” Rosalind turned over and tipped her ear toward Poppy.
“What’s wrong? Those lilies he sent were quite nice, I thought.”
“I’m so stupid,” Rosalind suddenly burst out. “I don’t even know what’s happening. I only met him a week ago, and I can’t stop thinking about him. When he met us at Vauxhall it felt like magic. I’m so happy when I hear him say my name. But I don’t know what his intentions are. He said he wanted to get to know me, and he kissed me, but he never mentioned actually courting me. Am I mad to expect that he would? What’s going on?”
“You’re falling in love,” Poppy said simply.
“Oh, no.”
“Of course you are. And why not? He’s a charming, handsome gentleman. And he is courting you. When a man sends flowers and chocolates and finds ways to meet you in dark gardens to kiss you, that’s courting.”
“Is he? Or is he simply playing? Hynes meant to make fun of me. Who’s to say Lord Norbury isn’t doing the same? You know the stories about him. Perhaps he’s just taking his time to get to the punchline.”
“Do you really think that’s likely?”
“I don’t think it’s likely that an aristocrat of his level would seriously court a blind girl. Nor would a rake be interested in a simple little maiden like me.”
“Oh, Rose.”
“Poppy, I’m not a fool. Even I have heard the stories. Perhaps he just wants a freak for a mistress because it will amuse him.”
