“Well, she is a widow, of course,” Callum said.
“Yes, that I know,” Roarke said. “She was married to the Duke of Sidmouth.”
He held his breath at that statement. No one had made the connection between himself and the late first wife of Sidmouth. The first duchess was long dead now, so there was no reason that would change, but he still knew it was possible they would call him on the relation and then this entire endeavor would likely end swiftly.
But neither seemed to make the connection. “Yes,” Callum said.
“He was a bit older than she was,” Roarke continued, “if I’m remembering correctly.”
“Much older.” Theo shook his head. “And yet she truly seems to have cared for him.”
Roarke straightened. There it was. A glimpse of Flora’s inner thoughts on his uncle coming from someone who actually knew her. Who she might be more honest with about the subject if she had, indeed, been as indifferent as his cousin’s claimed. “Does she say so?”
“Yes,” Callum said slowly, his brow wrinkling. “I’m shocked you sound interested about that particular tidbit. Or is it that you are interested in the lady, herself?”
The world felt like it screeched to a sudden halt at that question and Roarke couldn’t help but let his gaze slide toward Flora once more. She was smiling. Laughing. Beautiful and bright.
“That is what the other ladies think, you know,” Theo said. “And be forewarned, you might have to walk through some fire to reach her if that’s true. They’ll stand for each other.”
Roarke continued to stare at her. Flora had been placed at the center of them as they chatted and he smiled slightly. He found himself glad that she had found protectors when he knew how desperately his cousins hated her. She could not have had an easy time when she had to see them regularly.
“I don’t know how anyone couldn’t be interested in her,” he mused softly. “It seems she is impossible not become friends with. And now I will go speak to her. Excuse me.”
The two men murmured their acceptance of his leaving. He heard the continued interest and perhaps light strain in their voices at this turn of events, but he ignored it. He was going to Flora now. His focus was her, and he knew in his heart that focus was having less and less to do with the wretched duty his cousins had thrust upon his shoulders, or even the positive outcomes it could bring to his mother. No, this had everything to do with the lady herself. No matter how dangerous that fact was.
* * *
Roarke was coming toward her, and Flora’s heart wouldn’t stop pounding. It was the oddest reaction and one she couldn’t remember ever having when it came to Stuart. She’d always been pleased to see him, of course. Welcomed being protected and loved by him, and returning the same. But this was…something else. Something primal that felt like it came from the deepest part of herself.
Something she needed to get under control. She forced a smile as he neared Flora and her friends. The other two duchesses did the same, though she recognized the hesitation in their expressions. Neither were certain about him yet and they would be protective until they were.
Which was good, since she was not thinking clearly.
“Your Grace,” he said, looking at Flora.
All three ladies responded, “Yes?” And then all four of them laughed together.
He had a nice laugh. It made crinkles appear around those wonderful green eyes that now danced with humor. “Ah, I can see now why you all forgo the formalities when you are together,” he said. “In this case, I was addressing our hostess. Flora.”
It was the first time he’d said her given name out loud, at least to her. She couldn’t help but suck in a breath even as she fought not to let anyone else in the room, least of all him, see how much the two syllables meant to her.
“Come, Valaria,” Bernadette said. “I think the dukes are feeling abandoned.”
Valaria shot Flora a quick look but didn’t fight being all but dragged away. Flora smiled a little. At least she knew she had champions in this room.
“Mr. Desmond, I’m so glad you could come,” she said, managing to turn to the polite interactions of a hostess to calm herself.
He arched a brow. “Now, now, are you going to address me formally while you expect me to do something different? That seems hardly fair.”
She caught another breath. She hadn’t thought about this part when she invited him to address them all informally. She would call him by his first name, which felt incredibly intimate. Why didn’t it feel so intimate when she did so with Callum or Theo?
Probably because there wasn’t some part of her which wanted to whisper their names in the dark, that hadn’t woken up thinking about them, sheets tangled around her legs.
She blinked and forced those thoughts away. “I apologize. Roarke.”
There, she had said it and his pupils dilated a fraction, like he liked hearing it. “You know,” he said. “If we were at a ball, I would ask you to make room on your dance card for me. Perhaps I should ask now for the next time we share a ballroom, just in case yours fills up.”
She wrinkled her brow as she stared up at him. He seemed earnest, not like he was teasing. “I, er, my dance card is never full.”
