“Girls, there you are,” their father, the Viscount of Strathvale, announced as they entered. “Come in, come in.” He hurried across the room and bade them to cross the threshold. “I was about to raise the alarm.”
“Just building suspense, Father,” Rose joked.
Beside her, she felt Marianne tense.
“We were just speaking of you.” Their father looked older than his fifty years, more worn through and just plain tired. But he was dressed finely, wore a little too much of his strong cologne, and his bald patch was almost entirely covered by the way he combed his greying hair.
It was a full effort from their father because the caliber of their guest demanded as much.
“Rosalind, Marianne, may I introduce you to His Grace, the Duke of Thornwall?” Their father turned and bowed at their guest, and while Marianne offered a nervous curtsey, Rose gasped.
The Duke lurked by the window, half-turned to look outside, half-turned to face them. He did not smile. He did not appear particularly interested in the moment. Tall and intimidating in stature, physically powerful and intense in presence, his hair was dark, his skin was pure white, and his eyes were piercing green.
Those same eyes swept over the two sisters, sizing them up quickly before pausing on Rose…
He was not at all what she was expecting.
Rose had done her own research into the Duke of Thornwall, of course. A duke at a young age, vastly successful in almost everything he did, extreme wealth earned because of it, while managing to be highly respected by nearly everyone.
The only slights against his name concerned his nature. Serious to a fault, it was said. Detached and emotionless, especially where his businesses are concerned. The type of man who would step on as many toes as he had to, if there was money to be made from it.
Ironically, most whom Rose spoke with seemed to think these traits were a positive thing. The Duke was a perfect example ofhis pedigree and reputation. So, yes, Rose had a pretty good idea of who she expected to see in that room.
Rose was not prepared for how utterly breathtaking he was. With his sharp jawline, his full lips, his thick chest and arms, it was quite difficult to look away from.
“Miss Rosalind Drayton,” the Duke was looking right at her, his green eyes unblinking, his intense gaze trapping her. She could hear her heart thumping. She could feel her body shaking— until he broke the stare and found Rose’s sister. “And Miss. Marianne Dayton. It is a pleasure.”
Rose blinked herself back into the moment, caught completely off guard by what had happened. Not that she knew what that was exactly.
“Your father was just telling me all about you.” The Duke crossed the room, and Rose’s breath caught, as if there was even a chance he was speaking to her. He walked right past her, of course, his sights set on Marianne. He took her hand and gave the back of it a soft kiss. “If half of what he has told me is true, I will consider myself a lucky man.”
Marianne’s face paled.
Rose snapped herself from whatever spell she had been under It did not matter what the Duke looked like. The only thing that mattered was helping her sister.
“And what did Father tell you of me?” Rose stepped beside the Duke and her sister, right in their faces. “I am sure that even less than half is true.”
The Duke paused, frowning at the interruption, and slowly turned to find Rose standing there, just a little too close. “Excuse me?”
“I am Miss Rosalind Drayton,” she offered her hand for the Duke to take. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace.”
The Duke eyed the hand. It was subtle, but a smirk tugged at his lips as he did, which he was quick to bury.
“Never mind that.” Rose’s father stepped in beside her and pushed her hand back down. He scowled at her in warning and then smiled at the Duke. “Your Grace, what do you think?”
“What do I think?” the Duke asked as if he didn’t understand the question.
“Of my daughter.” Rose’s father looked between Marianne and the Duke, a hunger in his eyes that Rose knew too well. “Is she not everything I have said?”
It is too late. My father has already agreed, and there is nothing I can do…
“You are an honest man, Lord Strathvale.” The Duke released Marianne’s hand, turned sharply away, and spoke to their father as if she were not there. “She is indeed beautiful. Well done.”
There could be no denying the truth of that, at least. Of the two sisters, Marianne was considered by most to be the more attractive one. Her hair was golden, her eyes were large, her features innocent and pretty. Rose, on the other hand… she had never thought of herself as traditionally beautiful, but she was not a lost cause either.
Her hair was darker than her sisters’, her features were sharper, but mostly it was her shoulders that she despised. Far too broad, in her opinion, and certainly enough to turn many men away. Not that she cared.
“I told you, did I not?” their father said proudly. “She takes just after her mother like that. Let us hope that she makes as good a wife for you as her mother did for me.”
