The Duke Conspiracy (24 page)

“What are you doing, Your Grace?” she hissed
at him as she felt him rubbing her back in a soothing gesture. It
was obvious to Rose that he had picked up on her attack of nerves.
She was comforted by the gesture and had to remind herself that he
was her enemy and that they had only teamed up in order to deal
with an even bigger enemy. She put her hands between them and
shoved against his chest. In the confines of the small space he
could not go far, but at least he was no longer touching her. He
was still disconcertingly close, and it was as though being in the
dark made it that much more intimate. He smelt surprisingly fresh
despite the warmth of the ballroom they had just left, as though he
had just bathed with some sort of lemon soap. His breath which
wafted by her in the close confines of the closet carried hints of
the glass of port he must have enjoyed recently. She could even
notice the rich scent of his highly polished leather shoes. She
could not understand why even the sound of his breathing made her
breathless. She was left feeling strangely impatient.

“Why did you arrange for such an unorthodox
meeting, Alex?” she demanded, sounding angry.

“I apologize, Rosie, I thought you wished to
speak with me urgently.” He finally spoke and his voice sounded
strange to Rose's ears. She thought it must be from the strain of
whispering. She hoped to put an end to this ridiculous episode as
quickly as possible.

“You are right, I do need to speak with you,
but surely we cannot be in this closet for very long or we are sure
to be discovered. Then we will be in the suds for certain.”

“Have you discovered something of use to
us?”

“Yes, Lady Yorkleigh was most helpful when I
visited her today. But there is so much to tell you and I cannot
bear to be here in the dark,” she whispered urgently. “Could you
arrange to meet me early in the morning tomorrow instead of the day
after like we had planned?”

“Sure, yes, no problem. That could easily be
arranged. You were right—this was not one of my wisest moves. You
should probably go. I will stay here. If anyone sees you emerging,
just say you mistook the door to the retiring room. I will wait a
sufficient while before I follow suit.”

“All right, Alex. Are you quite well? You
sound rather strange.” Rose was now concerned.

“Yes, yes, quite well. Perhaps there is
rather too much dust in the broom closet. Now out you go.”

Rose could feel that her face was displaying
how dubious she was about his statement, but as there was only the
faintest sliver of light coming in from under the door, it was
quite obvious the duke could not see it. She forbore to comment and
merely opened the door a sliver, peeked out, and hurried to leave.
Luck must have been on her side that night as no one was about when
she made good her escape. She decided to adjourn to the ladies'
retiring room for a moment to collect her thoughts before rejoining
the crowds in the ballroom.

****

Alex was left to stew in the broom
closet.

This was certainly not his brightest move,
Alex mused to himself as he willed his rioting feelings under
control. He should not be having any sort of warm feelings for Miss
Rosamund Smythe. Nothing could come of them, despite the love he
had felt for her for the past sixteen years.

He had been ten years old when four-year-old
Rosie had stolen his heart. He had been sitting behind the garden
sheds, crying over some hurtful thing that had occurred in his
family. At this point he could no longer remember the exact cause
of his grief, as it was not a rare thing. What had been the rare
thing had been the tender compassion clearly visible in the little
girl's eyes.

“There, there,” the little Rosie had said as
she patted his back gently, “It's best to let it all out for a
couple minutes and then stop. If you don't let it out it stays all
inside you, but if you cry too long your eyes will hurt.” Her
four-year-old wisdom had been indisputable and his tears had
instantly dried. As a ten-year-old he hated anyone knowing that he
could possibly give way to tears, but since she was barely more
than a baby it didn't really matter. She probably cried all the
time herself.

He had been wrong about that. The
sweet-natured little girl so rarely gave way to tears. But of
course, she didn't have as many reasons to cry as he had at that
time. Her parents still appeared to care about each other and, as
far as he could tell, no one ever lied to his Rosie.

Alex gave his head a shake to rid himself of
the bittersweet memories. It mattered naught how delightful he had
always found her. It was no longer possible for a Wrentham to
pursue any sort of a relationship with a Smythe. Perhaps if he
reminded himself about a million more times he would be able to
convince his heart to stop racing every time he caught sight of
her.

If she would just stop looking more beautiful
every time he laid eyes upon her it would no doubt be an easier
task for him to accomplish. And if he could stop finding her
earnest concern for the strange situation she had discovered so
endearing, surely he would be able to put her from his mind once
more. If they could get this Broderick nonsense straightened out
quickly he could get on with finding himself a duchess and retire
back to the country. Once Rose found herself a husband there would
be no need for their paths to cross very often in the future. That
thought should have brought him a measure of happiness rather than
the sinking feeling he was experiencing in that moment. A grunt of
frustration escaped him, which he quickly stifled lest someone hear
him. After another moment of hesitation, he too stepped from the
closet.

Alex was not as lucky as Rose. The moment he
had shut the door he heard an incredulous voice behind him. “Is
there something amiss, Your Grace?”

The duke gritted his teeth to prevent the
vulgarities that threatened to slip through his lips at being
caught out. It would certainly not do to tell off one's host. Alex
gritted his teeth and did his best to brazen it out. As he was
turning to face his host it crossed his mind how ironic it was that
Rose had been so concerned about his feelings toward subterfuge and
here he was, about to play as big a part as any she had. Alex was
uncertain what his face was revealing but from the look on the
ambassador's own face it must have been convincing, as his lordship
looked truly concerned.

Alex could see the worry on Lord Chatsworth's
face and he wondered idly what the poor man was thinking. This
struck his ready sense of humor and he had to struggle to suppress
an inappropriate urge to chuckle. Now was certainly not the time.
He would have to remember to tell Rose about it in the morning, he
thought to himself as he opened his mouth to address the
ambassador.

“My Lord Chatsworth, naught is amiss, thank
you so much for your concern. I was in need of relieving myself,”
Alex couldn't help the blush that he could feel creeping up his
cheeks at this revolting conversational gambit. Remembering that
the man was an ambassador, Alex hoped fervently that the man was
not into spying as well and did not see through his ridiculously
thin excuse.

Now Lord Chatsworth looked appalled. “And you
thought to relieve yourself in the broom closet?” Alex felt his
lips twitch with amusement over his host's tone of voice, despite
the awkwardness of the situation.

Mustering a degree of dignity, Alex strove
for the jovial tone of one who had imbibed a little too much.
Forcing a chuckle Alex waved the other man's words away. “Of course
not, my good man. I was merely looking for the appropriate
location. How was I to know that was a broom closet? I thought it
an ideal spot for a water closet.”

Lord Chatsworth was clearly torn over how to
address the tipsy young duke. His respect for the duke's title won
out. “Your Grace, we have not yet gotten around to upgrading the
entire house with plumbing. We do not have a water closet on this
floor, but if you would care to follow me I will show you to the
room that has been set aside for such a necessity. In the future,
should you have such a need again, feel free to ask a footman to
direct you.”

Alex was impressed with the other man's
words. They implied that at least some of the house had been
upgraded with plumbing. Most of his properties had, of course, seen
such upgrades, but he was a duke. He knew that most of his
associates were still trying to decide whether or not the upgrades
were necessary. Alex wondered how he had ever lived without
plumbing before and grimaced at the thought that he would now have
to relieve himself with his host in attendance. Stifling his sigh,
he rolled his eyes in disgust with himself. If he hadn't have had
the harebrained idea of pulling Rose into the broom closet in the
first place he would not be in this current predicament. He
consoled himself with the lopsided reasoning that it could have
been much worse. If the ambassador had been just a moment or two
earlier he would have seen Rose exiting the broom closet and if he
had investigated at all they would have all been in the suds, as
Rosie had said. But then again, from what she had told him, Alex
could imagine that Rose would be able to brazen her way out of the
situation even more skillfully than he had. And no doubt the
affable ambassador would have been happy to escort a giggling
debutante to the ladies' retiring room.

Within a few moments the questionable ordeal
was over and Alex was able to make his way back to the ballroom. He
was just in time to see Rose in conversation with Lady Anne and
Lord Edgecombe. The duke found himself consumed with curiosity
about what they could possibly be talking about. It crossed his
mind that he should be trying to hide his interest, but he could
not tear his eyes away as he watched Rose animatedly talking while
the other two looked on in fascination.

Rose had hurried away from the broom closet
as quickly as her skirts and propriety would allow. She had wanted
to pick up her skirts and run but fear of observers held her to a
more sedate pace. As soon as she was away from the closet she
whisked herself into the ladies' retiring room, where a mirror had
been conveniently placed for the guests' use.

Surprised to see how flushed she was, Rose
hastily glanced around the room, hoping she was not being observed.
A maid sitting in the corner was paying her very little attention.
The rest of the room appeared to be unoccupied.

Turning her attention back to the mirror,
Rose was glad to see that despite her close encounter with Alex,
Mary's hard work on her coiffure had not been laid to waste. There
wasn't much she could do about her flushed cheeks, so with a slight
shrug she turned away from her own reflection and headed back to
the ballroom.

Well aware that it was her excitement making
her color so hectic, Rose determined to set her mind to other
things. Remembering her and Elizabeth's plan to aim Anne in a
different direction she determined to try her hand once more at
matchmaking. Scanning the room for her quarries, her eyes lit upon
one. Grinning, she headed across the room with purpose.

“Lady Anne, you look lovely this
evening.”

“Oh, Miss Rosamund, how kind of you to say
so,” came her soft reply.

Rose suppressed her amused smile, and tried
hard to keep the conspirator's glee from her face. She had never
considered herself to be a busybody, but she was so excited about
the meddling she was about to do.

“Are you enjoying your evening thus far?”
Rose asked gently, pleased that her tone came out just how she
would like, not too bored but not invasive either.

“It is not as crowded as some of the balls I
have been to, so that is pleasant, to be sure.”

Rose was puzzled over Lady Anne's lukewarm
response. “Is everything all right with you, my lady?” she asked in
a low voice, making sure not to draw undue attention to them but
concerned about the young woman.

It was apparent that Anne was trying to put
on a brave face. “You recall the conversation we were having, do
you not?”

“About suitable husbands and how to acquire
them?” Rose asked, as neutrally as possible.

“That's right,” Anne replied with a slight
smile over Rose's wording. “My father has decided that I have
dithered long enough and wishes me to proceed as soon as
possible.”

Rose was glad for the experience she had in
maintaining a straight face despite this provocative statement.
Keeping her composure with effort she prompted discreetly, “And you
are unsure if you want to proceed, is that the problem?”

Anne's nod was miserable. “What you said
about a husband not wanting to be trapped really made me think.
What if Papa is wrong about affection being engaged after the
marriage is arranged? What if my husband were to take me in disgust
if he were to find out that it was all a trap? I do not want to be
miserable for the rest of my life.”

Feeling her heart go out to the other woman,
Rose was glad that she had already determined on her set course.
Lady Anne could not have Alex, but she deserved to be happy.
Clasping Lady Anne's hand warmly in her own, Rose reassured her
quietly. “Have no fear, my friend, we shall ensure you find
happiness. Let us find you an uncomplicated husband who will be
delighted to make you happy.”

Lady Anne brought her eyes to focus on Rose's
face. “Are you sure that is even possible?”

“Absolutely,” Rose replied with as much
conviction as she could muster, grinning as she saw hope dawn in
the other woman's eyes. “Good, it will not do for you to look as
though you are heartbroken. Men do not find that terribly
attractive for the most part, in my experience.”

This brought a rather watery chuckle to
Anne's lips, but she did manage to look a little happier. Rose
again gazed about at the milling crowds and was delighted to see
the object of her search. Ignoring the vulgarity of her forward
behavior she raised a hand and beckoned for Lord Edgecombe to join
them.