“A missive was delivered by a Bostwick House footman a moment ago. It’s for you.” He glanced around. “I offered it to your father first, but he said it wasn’t necessary that he read it since it’s from Miss Adeline.”
Heartened that Adeline had been thinking of her, Rose helped herself to the note. “Thank you, Jarvis.”
Limping back to her chair, Rose unfolded the note.
My dearest Rose,
I know we spoke of taking tea on the morrow, but I have only just learned that I will be spending most of the day in the company of our new houseguest at the British Museum.
I know the museum is not your favorite place, but if you have not made other plans and wish to meet a prince of the Ottoman Empire before the Weatherstone’s ball—a rather handsome young man (even if his hair is a bit long)—perhaps you might pay a visit to the museum, too?
Ertugrul is spending the Season in London, and I have learned he is in search of an English wife! Oh, Rose, but who better than you to become a future sultan’s queen? I have assurances from him that he will dance a waltz with you!
I do hope to see you before the ball. If I do not, then I shall find you in our usual spot with the potted palms.
Sincerely yours,
Adeline
Rose reread the missive before she straightened in the chair.
A sultan’s heir?She remembered her father mentioning the man’s arrival and scoffed. Why ever in the world would her best friend think she would be interested in marrying a sultan’s son?
She grinned as she refolded the note, deciding she could at least meet the man. There would be somecachéin having already conversed with him when they came upon one another at the ball. From her missive, it was apparent Adeline had already arranged for him to dance with her, which assumed the man knew how to dance.
She winced at the thought she would have to take her wheeled chair to the museum. Her leg wouldn’t hold her up during the ball if she walked on it during a visit to the museum.
About to pen a note to let Adeline know she wouldn’t be joining her, Rose reconsidered. With her brother and father scheduled to be in the House of Lords all day, perhaps an outing to the museum was in order.
Even if she didn’t care to stare at all the bits of junk neatly arranged with their beautifully penned cards, detailing their origin and year of creation, Rose could admire the Greek statuary of naked men.
If she was expected to marry, then she may as well learn what she must.
