Page 63 of Rose and the Rogue
Dear Rose,
Heather has written to me in great haste and concern. She won’t say why (on paper), but she begged me to take you both in for the summer. Not that begging is required—you are both welcome to my home at any time. However, I am pleased to tell you that my old home of Rutherford Grange is also available for your exclusive use, should you wish more privacy than Lyondale would provide. In fact, I shall direct that the Grange is prepared for your imminent arrival. And should you need anything else, simply ask. What is the point of being a duchess if one cannot aid one’s friends?
Daisy
Poppy read the letter out loud, then fell silent, awaiting Rose’s opinion.
Over the past few days, the spate of rumors and whispered gossip had taken its toll on Rose. It didn’t matter that a number of the gentlemen who first suggested dalliances with her had all—rather suddenly—retracted their statements and loudly announced that of course they had nothing evil to imply about Miss Blake, who was an innocent, an angel, etc. etc. Their newly voiced defenses only served to bolster the underlying belief that something scandalous had occurred, and of course it was all Rose’s fault.
She avoided speaking to anyone about it, despite the number of people calling at the house, who were doubtless eager to discuss it.
“Lady Sara is at the door,” Alice said, coming up to the girls.
“We’re not at home to anyone,” Rose mumbled.
“I told her that already, and she insisted I bring up her card. She wrote something upon it.” Alice left after Poppy took the card from the tray.
Poppy read aloud, “‘Miss Blake ought to deny all rumors and leave for the country until autumn. This is the only way to quell the gossip.’”
Rose sighed. “I know she means well, but I suspect that every time anyone breathes a word about this, it makes it worse. If I deny it, they’ll all say I have must something to deny, and therefore it is all real.”
“Probably,” Poppy agreed. “But there is something to be said for leaving London for a while. I’m glad Daisy has arranged for us to stay at Rutherford Grange. It is very secluded there, and you can enjoy some peace and quiet. Your parents will surely approve, and we can leave in the next few days.”
Rose doubted that she’d enjoy much about her exile, even though she would be glad to spend time with Daisy, who’d be living nearby. She remembered Rutherford Grange as a pleasant place, surrounded by woods and fields, each with their own sounds and scents, so utterly different from the urban bustle of London’s streets. Not to mention that Daisy, now married to a duke, could offer a degree of protection from harassment.
“It will be good to have a change,” Rose said, trying to be agreeable. All she could think was that she’d be far, far away from Adrian. Shouldn’t she want that? She hated him! And anyway, he was done with her, having got what he wanted. She hadn’t heard a thing from him since…well, since she discovered the awful truth.
She knew that Poppy had spoken with Adrian’s friend once, but Poppy had never told her anything useful out of that conversation. It was a pity, really. Rose could tell that Poppy had rather lost her heart to Mr. de la Guerra. But surely it would be difficult for them to spend any time together, after his best friend ruined her best friend.
It was, to say the least, an awkward situation.
Why did love have to be so painful? Such highs and lows, and she was not equipped to deal with either. Far better to live out her days as a lonely spinster, keeping her parents company into their old age. And perhaps she could someday be Auntie Rose to her friends’ children, abiding in a spare room, making herself as useful as possible for a blind lady no one wanted…
“Are you moping?” Poppy broke into her thoughts. “You mustn’t, dear. I promise everything will be fine, somehow. We may need to offer ourselves as brides to some men in far-flung parts of the world, but we’ll manage. Did you know that some men accept brides fresh out of Bridewell prison? Next to them, we’ll surely be sought after!”
Rose shook her head. “Don’t joke. You’ll find a good man to marry, just as your mother did…twice! I have resigned myself to whatever comes.”
“Oh, Rose, don’t you dare. There must be a way out of this mess.”
With bitter irony, Rose retorted, “I can’t see one.”
Chapter 22
The hour for tea was getting close, so Adrian had his valet select a suitable outfit and dressed with special care. Though he’d already made his disastrous first impressions on the family, it might not be too late to make amends.
But when he went downstairs, his hands shaking at the thought of facing Mr. Blake again, the house was quiet.
He found his mother in the drawing room, but with no tea service in sight. Had he got the time wrong? (Adrian did not often participate in teas, which he regarded as boring and staid.)
“Well, shall we get ready for our guests?” he asked.
“No. The Blakes have sent their regrets. Prior obligations,” his mother added in astonishment. “What could be more important?”
“Mr. Blake is involved in some very important case, I think. He may not have been able to get away.”
“And Mrs. Blake? She’s not arguing before the bar.”
“She has many charitable commitments.”
