“You may say that now,” said Josephine with a grin, “but you haven’t seen how much I can eat.”
Laughing together, the three young women entered the drawing room.
“Ravenhill House is a very grand house,” Madeline commented as they idled together later that afternoon in Rose’s private sitting room. “It is not as old as Ashbourne Castle but just as imposing in its own way.”
“It quite frightened me when I first arrived. It seemed so cold, dark and forbidding that night. When I saw it in sunlight, however, as I came back from my first walk in the grounds, I realized it was only very solidly built from very gray stone. It’s rather a practical house, I suppose. Our housekeeper says that it has the tightest windows and walls she has ever known.”
“There are fewer drafts than at Ashbourne Castle,” Josephine remarked, lounging on the green velvet chaise-longue that had once belonged to Duchess Juliana. “You could almost walkaround in your underwear here when there is a fire burning and you certainly can’t do that in winter at Ashbourne Castle.”
“Josephine!” Madeline said severely, from the small sofa where she sat beside Rose. “Now it is my turn to scold you. You really are most improper.”
Josephine only laughed at this.
“There is no need for such extremes of modesty when we are among ourselves. Rose is a married woman now and you are no ignorant schoolgirl, Madeline. Anyway, I would not be surprised to hear that the Duke of Ravenhill wanders the halls of his own home in his underwear at all hours. He is hardly known as an inhibited man.”
Rose blushed scarlet at this idea. It took her back to that shocking interlude in the library where Dorian had kissed and caressed her into such a strange frenzy of pleasure. Then, when she saw him at dinner that night, it had been as though none of it had happened. No shocking books, no kissing and teasing, and certainly no indecent stroking of Rose’s most secret places.
Instead, the duke had asked whether there was news of her father's health and then offered to choose a horse from the stable to be Rose’s own mount. She had been glad at the time, her mind still overheated with their physical encounter and the astonishing stories that preceded and followed it. As the days passed afterwards, however, it began to feel like a peculiar dream.
“Look how red Rose is!” Madeline observed. “I think you must be right, Josephine. Perhaps they both wander about in their underwear.”
“We don’t,” said Rose quietly. “But it is warm enough in some rooms that someone could, if they wished.”
“Oh, we’re only teasing you, Rose,” Josephine offered swiftly. “Don’t go all shy on us now. You’re the Duchess of Ravenhill and mistress of all you survey. Tell us instead how you are finding married life.”
Rose hesitated. These were her closest friends and she longed for their sympathy and advice but she did not know how to frame her recent experiences or feelings.
“It is very different from what I was expecting,” she began.
“Not like your romance novels?” teased Madeline. “Dorian Voss has not rescued you from pirates yet, or fought off a pack of wolves single handed?”
“Maybe it is even better than romance novels,” Josephine suggested with a bright smile. “That is what I found very quickly with Cassius. I would not swap him for all the romantic heroes who ever graced paper.”
“The duke has been very kind,” Rose said, falling back on the one thing she felt was both true and unremarkable. “But Madeline,how have you been? You barely wrote to me at all during my honeymoon. I want to know all your news.”
As a change of subject, Rose’s tactic was more successful than she could have hoped. Madeleine gave a loud groan and briefly mimed laying her head in her hands.
“My news? My life is over. That is my news. It seems I shall spend the rest of my life chasing after my cousin Francesca.”
“Francesca?” Rose queried with a frown.
“You know, Madeline told us before your wedding,” Josephine reminded her. “Francesca’s mother has remarried and is expecting a child with her new husband, Lord Murray. Madeline and her father therefore have charge of the girl and have been doing their best to launch her in London society over the winter.”
“Oh yes, I remember now. Is your cousin not happy with your family, Madeline, or does she not enjoy going about among strangers? I suppose she might feel sad to be parted from her mother, or resentful of the new baby. Is Francesca shy?”
“Shy?!” exclaimed Madeline with a loud snort of laughter. “I wish she was shy! She is a young hoyden with no sense of propriety who says exactly what she thinks to whomever she pleases, regardless of the situation. She has led me a merry dance around the ton this past fortnight, I can tell you.”
“Francesca sounds a little like me,” Josephine observed philosophically. “Perhaps she will find a husband who appreciates her frankness, as I did.”
“No, no, no,” countered Madeline, shaking her head. “You are entirely natural Josephine. That is why everyone loves you, including your duke. Young Francesca is the most dreadful schemer and a bad influence on others besides. Two days ago, I caught her trying to arrange a midnight picnic with other young ladies and gentlemen, with no chaperones. Can you imagine?!”
“You and your father should have just joined them,” suggested Josephine with a grin. “You could have brought little Melinda too, and maybe your neighbor, Lady Stevens, who never stops talking. That would have taught Francesca and her friends a lesson.”
“Not at this time of year,” Madeline said with a shiver. “It was utter madness. Thankfully Cousin Francesca is spending today with the dullest of our great-aunts or I don’t think I could have left her alone. I dread to think what the season will be like next year with so many parties and balls. I shall not be able to take my eyes off her for a moment.”
“Marry your cousin off quickly, that is my advice, Lady Madeline,” said a man’s deep, amused voice and looking up, Rose saw Dorian Voss standing in the slightly open doorway. “Let her become someone else’s problem.”
“If you’re going to listen at doors and interrupt our conversation, duke, you must come in and do it properly,” Josephinedemanded, beckoning imperiously to the man who was her husband’s good friend.
