As she contemplated this, her cheeks flushed crimson. She knew this because she could see herself in one of the gilt-framed mirrors lining the opposite wall. It was the curse of being a redhead.
Mrs. Beauclerk clapped her hands. “Ah! I understand. I understand completely. Not everyone has the sort of mother with whom they can discuss these sorts of things.”
“I’m sorry?” Rosalie was back to being confused. Of course, Mrs. Beauclerk was right in that she could not discuss much of anything with her mother, but?—
“The thing to understand is that you will be all right, because you are marrying Lucian. He will take good care of you. I know he will.” She laughed. “Most men haven’t the faintest idea what to do on their wedding night. Take my Cedric, for example. He is the dearest man! But I had to teach himeverything.”
“Oh, mygracious!” Rosalie fumbled her teacup as she realized what they were discussing. She hastily set it on the sidetable before she made a mess. “I’m so sorry, but that isn’t the reason I came, either.”
Mrs. Beauclerk was studying her shrewdly. “Although, now that you are here, perhaps it is a good opportunity? I can see that you are curious.”
In truth, Rosalie was. Although she did not know Mrs. Beauclerk all that well, her instincts told her that she would glean much more useful information regarding the birds and the bees from Mrs. Beauclerk than from her own mother. Which was a sad commentary on the state of her relationship with her mother, but there it was.
Rosalie shook herself. She did not need to have this conversation because she was not getting married. That was the crux of the issue.
Besides, Rosie, you aren’t as ignorant of these matters as you should be.
That, of course, was Lucian’s fault.
She cleared her throat. “That is very kind of you. For now, I will decline, but should my mother’s talk prove insufficient, I will keep your offer in mind.”
“Ah. Very well.” Mrs. Beauclerk looked curious, rather than put out. “What was it you wanted to speak with me about, then?”
Rosalie decided she had best come out and say it. “I fear you will think this a strange question. But someone told me that Lucian used to borrow your son’s phaeton in order to drive his grandfather around town. I was wondering if it was true.”
Mrs. Beauclerk brightened. “Oh, yes! I remember it well. Once a week, Lucian would take the carriage. I remember being impressed that the previous Lord Valentine could climb up into a highflyer. He was quite spry for a man of his age! It was very nice of him, don’t you think?”
“Indeed,” Rosalie said distractedly, “it was extremely kind of your son to allow Lucian to borrow his expensive equipage.”So, it was true. Lucian had taken his grandfather out racing at reckless speeds, just as Lysander had said!
Mrs. Beauclerk laughed. “Lucian would usually come around ten in the morning, so I doubt it was any inconvenience to Vander. I am sure he was still abed, back in those days. What I meant was?—”
“Did I just hear my name?”
Rosalie’s head whipped around at the sound of a deep voice coming from the entrance to the room.
Surely enough, there was Lucian striding through the door, looking like a men’s fashion plate in a charcoal grey coat that fit his broad shoulders like a second skin, glossy black boots, and buff trousers.
He bent and kissed Mrs. Beauclerk on the cheek. “Have you been gossiping about me, Auntie Azita?”
Mrs. Beauclerk made a show of exaggerated innocence. “Would I do such a thing?”
Lucian gave her a pointed look. “You absolutely would, but I trust that you were extolling my many virtues to Lady Rosalie.”
Rosalie made her voice sugary sweet. “Would that there was something to extol.”
“Oh-ho!” Mrs. Beauclerk cried. “She is going to make you work to prove your sincerity.” She gave Rosalie a crisp nod. “As you should, my dear. As you should. You must admit, Lucian, you have the most terrible reputation.”
He gave an elegant bow. “There is no point in denying it.” His grey eyes found Rosalie’s and held them. As always happened, she found it strangely difficult to look away. “But Lady Rosalie is worth the effort.”
Pressing her hands against her thighs, Mrs. Beauclerk stood. “I think you’d best start right now. You have alotof work to do.” She wagged a finger at Lucian. “I will return in ten minutes, young man. Ten minutes! And the door is to remainopen.”
And just like that, Rosalie found herself alone with her enemy.
Chapter Seven
The first thing Lucian did was close the damn door.
Auntie Azita had left the key in the lock.Perfect.
