“The Rose Suite, huh?” he asked, perhaps impressed. “Quite the honor. This was his mother’s room, in case you didn’t know.”
“I knew,” I declared.
He nodded.
I was bothered by his observation. Why didLord Evergreeneven care what honors I was bestowed?
“Good,” he said. “He told you? Or?”
“Yes, he told me, and?” I asked.
“And nothing,” he replied.
“Good,” I said. “Goodbye then, Lord Evergre–”
“It’s just that no one’s stayed there in some time,” he noted.
“Again, I’ll say yes, and?” He didn’t answer swiftly. “And?” I pressed.
“Just asweetgesture is all,” he said.
“Sam told me the woman of the house stays here. Should it not belong to me?” I asked. “And what of it if it were sweet? Should my husband not be sweet to me?”
Thenhefrowned.
“It was a beautiful gesture,” I declared.
Josie slipped between us, a fabric brush in her hand. Her voice was sing-songy. “Don’t mind me. Just need to tend to this.”
I stepped back, and so did the lord. We didn’t speak; we only watched Miss Jocelyn as she swept the gown a few times back and forth.
“It looks better spread like that,” Cyrus said.
“Come again?” I asked.
“Your gown,” he said. He even pointed to it. “It looks better in its totality rather than balled up. Like it was before.”
“Do you think so?”I asked. “It doesn’t look like atablecloth?”
He shrugged. “Does it matter what I think?”
“I suppose not, no,” I said. “Anyway, thank you.”
“Thank me?” he asked.
“For carrying the gown,” I said. “What else should I be thanking you for?”
“Ah. Right. Nothing of it.” There was another pause. “Farewell then,” he said.
He headed toward the door. Some fiendish excitement possessed my arms, and I caught him by one of his before he touched the knob.
“Wait!” I cried compulsively.
He looked down at it, and I let go.
“But if it did matter?” I asked. “What, uh, what would you say?”
Cyrus cocked his head. “You care what I think of your gown, Your Highness?” His voice was lower than it had been, and the way he searched my face….
