“I am sure that all is well,” Josephine said slowly. “Rose and Dorian must still get to know one another and there is plenty of time for that. Not everything rushes at things in the madcap, careless way that I have done. We should not interrogate her.”
Rose smiled gratefully and the conversation soon turned again to Madeline’s problems with Francesca and strategies to rein the wild girl in.
In the evening, as her guests were leaving, Josephine hugged Rose and whispered in her ear while Madeline was taking her leave of the Duke of Ravenhill.
“If you ever would like to talk to me about… bedroom matters, you can. I imagine your duke is only taking things slowly, which is likely to his credit under the circumstances. Still, you are a wife now and you have rights, especially if there is to be an heir to the duchy of Ravenhill…”
Rose swallowed and nodded.Bedroom matters… Was Josephine referring to the distance between her rooms and Dorian’s? Or was this a reference to the activities she hadrecently learned of from the adventures of Captain Henri and Lord Basington?
Was Rose meant to be engaging in such scandalous acts with her husband?! The thought made her feel hot and disoriented, as well as slightly doubtful that much of it was even physically possible. Then, Rose would never have known that Dorian could make her feel such ecstasy with his fingers if he had not shown her.
Her more experienced friend also seemed to be making a link between “bedroom matters” and future children, which only sparked more questions. Rose also recalled vague references in the stories to means of avoiding children but had not really understood them.
“I do have questions,” Rose admitted. “If I haven’t found the answers by the next time we meet…”
“…then I shall tell you everything I know,” promised Josephine.
“You shall tell Rose everything you know?” queried the smiling Dorian Voss, who had now escorted Madeline down the steps to meet them at the carriage. “I should very much like to hear that story myself.”
“About being a duchess,” Josephine returned with a grin, allowing the Duke of Ravenhill to hand her into the carriage as a footman held its door. “You have no need to hear about being a duchess and can offer us no useful experience.”
“Not at all, I have known many duchesses,” Dorian answered with good humor, helping Madeline into the carriage too and then nodding a farewell to both of them.
While he smiled at Rose too, she felt herself wince slightly at his words. Why should it bother her so much that he had known many women, duchesses or otherwise? This was who Dorian Voss was, who he had always been, and likely always would be.
She sighed as the carriage pulled away down the drive.
“You will see your friends again as soon as you wish it,” the duke tried to reassure her in pleasant tones as he waved after her departing friends. “Remember, there is a carriage always at your disposal.”
Rose made herself smile back, telling herself that she must be grateful that her husband was kind and reasonable and expect nothing more.
Chapter Eleven
“Ihope my brothers have forgiven me now,” said Rose with a troubled expression as Dorian settled on the carriage seat beside her and arranged a blanket across her legs.
“There is nothing to forgive,” he replied, hoping that Lord Carradon would see things in the same light now that Rose was safely married.
It really was ridiculous how society behaved over such trivialities as that brief encounter in the garden at Ashbourne Castle. The old gossips and censorious hypocrites of the ton would happily have crushed an innocent like Rose for nothing. If Lord Carradon did persist in any disapprobation of his sister now, Dorian knew they would never be friends.
“Edwin can be much nicer when he is not worried about the family,” Rose remarked wistfully and then sighed. “With my father’s illness and then our scandal, it has been a while sinceI have seen him at his best. I hate it when Edwin is angry with me.”
“There is no reason for your brothers to be angry with you,” Dorian told her firmly. “If they choose to be angry over nothing, that is their own concern. Even family members are not permitted to scold the Duchess of Ravenhill.”
This small joke did draw a brief smile from Rose.
“Only you, as I remember,” she added pertly and Dorian laughed.
Rose’s smile faded away again soon enough, however, and he could see that there was still a weight on her mind. Hopefully this visit would go well and relieve her of whatever mental burdens she was carrying.
Opting to leave her in peace with her thoughts, Dorian watched Rose subtly and without speaking as their carriage drove along the roads towards Westvale Park. His wife stared pensively from the window for most of the journey, occasionally biting her lip or twisting her hands in her lap.
Rose’s profile was so perfectly shaped that he could have focused entirely on the lines and planes of her face for some time more. The duke’s hands itched to sketch her in such quiet contemplation, although in another setting and with her flowing blonde locks about her shoulders. Would she allow that, he wondered?
One of Rose’s most appealing qualities was that she seemed so unconscious of her own physical beauty. If he tried to explain that he could think of no lovelier model for a drawing or painting, he could imagine her laughing at him. Despite her sensitive character, Rose did not respond to compliments and charm like many other women.
What did she respond to? Well, gentle teasing and sensual touch… Beyond that, there was still much to learn about his new wife.
The Duke of Ravenhill’s dark eyes narrowed as he pictured an ideal setting to capture Rose's likeness.Firelight, he thought, on a rug before a comfortable hearth, and draped only in a silk sheet that revealed as much as it hid of her undeniable physical charms. The lighting in the room must be pink and gold, rather like Rose herself.
