“Did you not have a good time?” Helen asked of her daughter.
Rose straightened in the squabs. “Oh, I did. I danced more than usual, but I was reminded there are some young men in this town who seem to have forgotten their dance lessons.”
“Who stepped on you?” William asked.
Inhaling softly, Rose said, “No one, actually.”
“How is your leg, darling?” her mother asked. “Did it cause you pain?”
Remembering what David had done during the second waltz had her realizing her parents hadn’t paid witness to his maneuver. Perhaps they had already stepped out to the gardens. “Hardly at all,” she replied.
“I trust Bennett-Jones was a perfect gentleman this evening?” James asked. “I apologize if we interrupted your discussion at the fountain.”
William scoffed as he turned to regard his sister. “Youwere with Bennett-Jones near Cupid?” he asked in disbelief.
Rose glared at him. “I was, yes. And there’s no need to apologize. We were simply taking the air,” she added, turning her attention back on her father. “Thank you for the recommendation regarding the gardens on the west end of the house. I think I shall have to see them during the day to appreciate their colors.”
Truth be told, she had barely noticed the early spring flowers. Her attention had been entirely on David, and apparently his was on her, for she couldn’t remember anything but the kiss they shared.
Kisses. They had kissed twice.
Had he thought her fast for practically initiating the first one? She didn’t know what had possessed her to nearly launch herself against the front of his body, to touch her lips to his.
Yet, he hadn’t hesitated in returning the kiss.
Had he thought he required her permission? Waited for her to make the move that sent them into a few moments of kissing bliss?
No one had kissed her like that before. No one had slipped their tongue into her mouth before. No one had pulled her so close she could practically feel their arousal through her skirts.
“You’ll want to awaken by noon,” Helen said, interrupting her reverie. “If you’re to be ready to go at two o’clock.”
Rose blinked. “What’s this?”
“Your ride in the park,” her father stated. “Bennett-Jones informed me of his intentions to take you riding. I gave my permission, especially because your grey walker could use some exercise,” he added, referring to the horse she had been riding since she was a young girl.
“Oh, of course,” she replied. She would have to send a note to Adeline to let her know she wouldn’t be joining her for tea. “Will we go riding in Rotten Row at five o’clock?”
“You can ride, darling,” Helen stated. “Your father is taking me on his phaeton.” She beamed in delight and batted her eyelashes, as if she was still a young miss looking forward to her first ride with a suitor.
“Careful, my sweet, or you’ll shock our children,” James teased.
Both Rose and William scoffed in unison.
“You’re rather quiet tonight,” James said, his gaze going to his son. “Waverley,” he added with a grin. “I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to calling you that.”
William shrugged. “It’s been a long day,” he murmured.
“I didn’t see you dancing,” James remarked.
“But I did,” his son insisted. “The cotillion and the English country dance. Played cards.”
Helen gasped, but James reached over and gave one of her hands a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry. He didn’t lose,” he whispered.
She sighed softly, her eyes closing as she settled her head against the duke’s shoulder.
Once James knew she was sleeping, he directed his gaze on his son. “So what really happened tonight?” he asked.
William glanced out the coach window in an attempt to determine how much longer they had before they would arrive at Ariley Place. “She wasn’t there,” he stated.
