A slight frown flitted across the duchess’s face. “Unfortunately, no. They are staying with my brother and his family in the country.”
“Lucky children,” Rose remarked.
Lisbeth smiled. “Yes. They would agree. Would you like to rest? I will show you to your room.”
Rose wasn’t typically a fan of a midday rest, but today, her body begged for sleep. “Yes. I believe that would be nice.”
They both stood but Lisbeth didn’t move. A look of uncertainty passed over her face, startling Rose. The Lisbeth she remembered had been bold and never unsure.
“Is anything amiss?” she asked the duchess.
“I know there may be some hurt feelings over what happened between Thomas and me. I want you to know that I never intended to upset anyone.”
Yet, she had destroyed Thomas, and the man who rose from the destruction, while still her friend, was an outrageous rogue and an extreme adventurer. Rose would never share that with Lisbeth. Loyalty prevented her from doing so. Instead, she shrugged. “I’m sure you had your reasons. Thomas is doing well.”
Happiness flitted across Lisbeth’s face. “I’m so glad to hear that. I only want the best for him.”
Did she? Rose frowned, confused by her words.
“Follow me,” Lisbeth said. “It will be wonderful for you to rest, and then I will tell you about the Historical Society for Female Curators. The board is excited to meet with you.”
*
Augustus sighed astwo of his closest friends howled with laughter. The Marquess of Derry and Sebastian Devons, proprietors of the gentlemen’s club, the Den, found it hilarious that his mother had lectured him on his lack of a wife. He’d expected them to commiserate with him, not use him as a source of their amusement. Augustus should have suspected it was too much to ask. Derry had been married for a few years now, and Devons was betrothed.
Lovesick fools, he thought as he took another sip of his brandy. He wasn’t trying to avoid what was demanded of him, but he wanted someone he could at least stomach as acompanion. Knowing that whoever he married would be his partner for life made Augustus a cautious man.
“I’m sorry, friend. I find it amusing that your mother believes you have reached an age that ladies may find you unsuitable to marry. You’re a duke. Women will always want you,” Derry snickered.
He smirked back at him, but inside, his gut clenched because deep down, he detested the point Derry was making the most. Augustus was to be some lady’s prize. The thought rankled him and was always in the back of his mind, tormenting him.
“My point is thirty-five is not ancient.”
Devons snorted. “It isn’t young either.”
No, it isn’t, he admitted to himself. Perhaps he could try to be more open-minded this year. Catherine would eventually return to London. Could she be an option? His mouth twisted into a smirk. No, she wasn’t. She’d known true love, and as much as Augustus didn’t prioritize the emotion, he couldn’t marry someone who had. Whatever marriage dreams he had for Catherine were gone.
“Do you have anyone in mind? You seem lost in thought. Is the great Sinclair interested in a lady?” Derry asked.
Augustus rolled his eyes. “No. Hardly. Enough talk about the marriage mart. I will find a wife when I’m ready.”
“Diana and Sophia would be happy to assist—”
“No,” Augustus cut them off. He didn’t need them or their partners to play matchmakers.
Both men erupted into more laughter. He frowned at them, waiting for them to get ahold of themselves. Finally, Devons asked, “How is the antiquities business?”
“Good and busy.”
“Have you set up a meeting with the Historical Society for Female Curators?” Devons asked.
The club owner’s betrothed was a board member, and he’d been after Augustus for a while to consider how they could partner. Augustus wasn’t opposed to the idea, but he already partnered with the London Society of Antiquaries. The two clubs seemed to compete directly with each other. He didn’t want to be involved. “I haven’t reached out yet.”
“Too high and mighty to support women challenging the establishment,” Devons asked.
Augustus snorted. “I have no interest in getting involved in Lady Hawley’s drama.”
“The club is so much more than that. Are you aware that the London Society of Antiquaries doesn’t allow women?” Devons asked.
