“But why would she run from here?” Shock reverberated from Rebecca.
“Because she’d stolen gloves I’d given Miss Macy.” Anger cleared her vision. “And she lied about it. I vow I never realized my temper was so short.”
“Didn’t you?” Sebastian said with a small smile. “You were a fiercely temperamental child as I recall.”
Rose glanced sharply at her brother. “Are you teasing me?”
“I believe I am,” he said, then added, “Mostly.”
It was a shocking admission. Her brother hadneverpossessed a sense of humor. But then neither had she.
He frowned. “Are you speaking of Lady Lockhart’s niece?”
Rebecca patted his hand, shushing him.
“She was gone when I woke this morning,” Rose said, discounting his question. “By way of the kitchens. Winston informed me she took a loaf of bread. A small price to pay for her freedom.” Her jaw locked. She wouldnotfeel sorry for the girl.
Rebecca tapped her thigh. “As if bread could shield her.”
The laugh that escaped Rose was brittle and small. “Emerson said I would regret it.”
“Rose,” he whispered. “The girl is a fool.”
“Oh, yes. She is that,” Rose bit out.
Rebecca let out a haughty sniff, indicating just how much Sebastian had rubbed off on her. “She has no notion of what she would have experienced if it hadn’t been for you, Rose. Most of the young women are grateful, I assure you.” After a moment, she went on. “But where the devil would she go?”
Sebastian winced. At her profanity, no doubt. Another bout of frantic laughter hovered.
The duchess went on, though it was unclear if she had deliberately ignored Sebastian. “I can’t imagine her traipsing back to Lady Lockhart.”
With a deep breath, Rose shook her head. “I have exhausted myself over those very questions all morning,” she said with a helpless shrug. “After finding her in Whitefriars—”
“What?” Sebastian thundered. “What the devil were you—” He glared at Emerson.
“Stop right there, Seb. Emerson spotted me leaving Peachornsby’s the other night and followed. You should be thanking him, not berating him.”
Sebastian turned his glare on her, but she stiffened her spine, meeting it fiercely. After a long moment, he turned back to Emerson. “It appears I owe you my thanks,” he gritted out, grudgingly. “I hadn’t realized the eldest of my sisters shared the same reckless nature of my youngest one.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Rose muttered.
“Don’t.” Sebastian tilted his head to one side. The razor-sharp smile did not bode well. “Tell me, Mr. Whitmore, when are theseconvenient nuptialsto take place?”
“Convenient nuptials,” Emerson repeated slowly.
Rebecca groaned. “Sebastian…”
Oh, no.“Emerson…” Rose started.
Too late. Emerson shot to his feet, tugging Rose up with him. “You’ll excuse us, Your Graces, while I speak to my…betrothed.” He hauled her from the room. “Where can we talk?” he demanded in a low voice.
“The…the morning room,” she stuttered out.
“Lead the way, my lady.” His tone gave nothing away.
“All right.” Rose lifted her chin and led him past the dining hall to the smaller chamber just beyond.
He shut the door behind them with a near slam, then grasped her arms and pulled her to his chest. In the softest brush, his lips moved over hers. A caress filled with promise and hope. This merchant who’d stolen into her heart with his large hands that kept danger at bay, and with the stroke of his tongue that vowed endless passionate nights. “Rose, say you’ll marry me.”
