“Such as?”
The pretty blonde tapped a slender finger against her chin. “Some are saying that Monique’s death resulted from her trying a new daredevil trick in the library. Others say she was drinking too much and hit her head. I even heard one version where,”—Rosie’s voice lowered to a dramatic whisper—“she was pushed by a jealous lover.”
Vi’s pulse raced. “Where did you hear that?”
“I don’t recall, exactly. It might have been Goggston or Parnell.” Rosie frowned. “Or was it one of the other fellows?”
“She’s surrounded by so many gentlemen that she can’t keep them straight,” Gabby said with a droll expression.
“They all seem interchangeable after a while,” Rosie agreed saucily. “All the same talk about horses, sporting—and I’m sure when we’re not around—wenching.”
“That’s only fair given that we’re talking aboutthemwhen they’re not around,” Vi pointed out reasonably.
Rosie pursed her lips. “But it’s not exactly the same, is it? We don’t talk about them in the same fashion. Why, I can’t even think of a female equivalent for the word ‘wenching’.”
With a grin, Vi suggested, “Menching?”
All the girls laughed, except Polly, whose brows knitted. “I’m sure not all gentleman are interested in that topic. Ambrose isn’t, for example.”
“Papa is different.” Rosie’s polished façade slipped, her green eyes soft with girlish adoration. “He’s a prince among men.”
“Well, I hope there’s more than one prince. Because the gentlemen I’ve met so far are frogs.” Gabby popped a jam tartlet into her mouth and chewed.
“As to frogs,” Rosie said casually, “have you kissed Carlisle yet, Vi?”
The sneak attack took Violet by surprise. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop the telltale heat from rising in her cheeks. Her hands went clammy, her pulse stuttering.
“Oh my goodness, you did!” Rosie shrieked. “You kissed him!”
“Thunderbolts,lower your voice,” Vi said desperately. “Do you want the entire party to know?”
“So youdolike him.” Polly’s aquamarine eyes shone. “I knew it!”
“He has… grown on me,” Vi admitted.
“Like moss on a log. How utterly romantic,” Rosie said, giggling.
Vi glanced at Gabby, who hadn’t said anything, and worry fluttered. Even though the other had repeatedly expressed her lack of interest in Carlisle, would she be all right withVioletmaking a match with him?
Gabby’s blue eyes rounded. “Are you certain you likeCarlisle?”
“I am. I misjudged him, you see. He and I have much more in common than I would have ever guessed, and, beneath his gruff exterior, he’s a jolly good chap.”
“Then I’m ever so happy for you.”
Relief rolled through Vi. “Thank you, Gabby.”
“No, thankyou,” the other girl said with an impish smile, “for now Papa can’t push me into a future I don’t want—er, no offense.”
“None taken. I know Carlisle is an acquired taste,” Vi said ruefully.
“So will we be your maids of honor?” Rosie chimed in. “I adore weddings. Thea’s was ever so much fun. Remember how you caught the bouquet, Violet? Why, you snatched it mid-air—disappointing more than a few unmarried ladies, let me tell you.”
“Didyouwant to catch the bouquet, Rosie?” Polly asked before Vi could cut in.
“Of course not, silly. Why would I want to get married when I’m having so much fun? I’d far rather go to someoneelse’swedding—”
“Hold it right there, Rosie,” Vi said with panicked emphasis. “You’re bringing the cart before the horse. Nothing has been decided yet. So I’d appreciate it if you kept my relationship with Carlisle under wraps.”
