Page 9 of The Duke and the Lady in Red
As calmly as possible, she walked to the entrance, acutely aware of his gaze following her the entire way. She’d made a mistake tonight, misjudged. She would have to be more careful in the future. The Duke of Avendale had the power to destroy her.
Chapter 2
By the time Rose strode in through the front door of her residence, she was back in control, her heart no longer pounding ferociously and threatening to crack a rib. A part of her was grateful she’d managed to escape. Another part, one she seldom allowed to come to the fore, wished she were still in the shadows of the balcony captivated by a kiss.
Merrick shuffled out of the parlor, his brow deeply furrowed. “Wasn’t expecting you home so soon.”
Removing her wrap, she handed it down to him. “See what you can uncover regarding the Duke of Avendale.” She’d given the man too much power. To avoid that happening again, she needed to learn everything she could about him.
“Duke? That’s a bit bold, even for you. He could be influential enough to see you hanged once he realizes what you’re about.”
“The trick there, then, is to ensure he doesn’t realize what I’m about. Any problems this evening?”
“No.” Merrick scrunched a face weathered by a harsh life. “He seems happy enough here. He’s sleeping now. Maybe we could stay this time.”
“You know that’s not possible.” She headed for the stairs, aware that Merrick traipsed along behind her.
“Maybe we could find another way.”
She spun around. She’d misjudged his nearness and he rammed into her. Grabbing his shoulders, she prevented him from tumbling over. When he was once again steady, he peered up at her and repeated, “Maybe we could.”
“What would you suggest? What could I possibly do that would provide us with the means to live in the luxury that we do?”
“Mayhap we don’t need as much luxury.”
“But Harry should have it. I owe him that.”
“Ain’t your fault the way your father treated him.”
Merrick had not witnessed all that she had. He could not possibly fathom all the ramifications of her father’s cruel actions. “Remember, Merrick, you are here by my good graces, not to question me. Now, let Sally know I’ve returned so she can assist me in preparing for bed.” She carried on up the stairs, refusing to feel guilty over the life she led or consider the consequences it might heap upon her. Life was filled with choices. She’d made hers. It was too late for regrets, and they served no purpose except to distract.
In her bedchamber, she peeled off her gloves and tossed them onto the dressing table before walking to the window and gazing out on the fog-shrouded gardens. She’d not accomplished all she’d meant to tonight. She had hoped to make associations with women who would invite her to their balls and dinners. The more she was seen within high Society, the more she would be trusted, the more people would wish to assist her. But the duke had distracted her from her purpose.
After the blistering kisses he’d leveled on her, she could hardly stay at the affair. It had not been until she was halfway home that she’d been able to think properly again. How could she scheme when her mind had turned to rubbish? Oh, she’d been given kisses before, but none that spoke of possession, none that consumed. She was quite surprised they’d not erupted into a conflagration on that balcony.
As she heard the door opening, she swung around and smiled. “Sally.”
“Did you enjoy your evening?” Merrick’s wife asked.
“Tonight’s purpose was work, not enjoyment.” She walked to the center of the room where a short stool rested and turned around. Sally stepped up and began loosening buttons and ribbons.
“Seems like you could mix the two.”
“I might end up concentrating too much on one and losing sight of the other.”
“Wouldn’t be so bad if it was the work you lost sight of. When was the last time you had a bit of fun?”
With the gown loosened, Rose worked her way out of it. “I read an entire book just last night before I went to bed.”
Scowling, coming around to take the gown, Sally said, “I’m talking about fun with others.”
Rose smiled. “I have a jolly good time with you.”
“You’re being difficult now.”
“Yes, I am, because I don’t wish to discuss it.”
After removing the remainder of her underclothes and slipping into her nightdress, she sat on the bench in front of her dressing table. If she could, she would have a home absent of mirrors, but she needed to know how she appeared before she went out. Appearance was crucial to the game.
