“I just wanted to say–”
“I do not wish to discuss this subject. Choose another.”
“Surely it would be better if we–”
“I said I do not wish to discuss it,” he snarled, for once using the power of his title to command authority. No one questioned a duke’s order. Not even his own sister. Jaw hardening, he went to the fountain and sat on the edge of it. The water hit his back in a light misting spray, but he welcomed the wet as it helped subdue the fire raging inside of him.
After several minutes, Sarah sat beside him, her voluminous skirts spilling across his legs as she rested her head on his shoulder, much like she’d done when she was a young girl and he was a young boy and Sebastian was alive and everything was right and good. “I think you should come to London,” she said quietly. “I understand why you’ve spent the summer here, and your absence did allow some of the gossip to die down. But now I fear the longer you stay out of the public eye, the more that people will begin to assume your guilt.”
He sighed. “Haven’t they done that already?”
“Some. Not all of them. It’s those sitting in the House of Lords that matter most. They are the ones that you need to convince of your innocence. You might begin by repairing your reputation.”
“Is something wrong with it?” he asked dryly. “Here I thought I was a paragon of virtue.”
She poked him with her elbow. “Anything but. The House of Lords won’t want to convict a duke, or even put you on trial. It would bring too much negative attention to the aristocracy. But they will if they think you’re more of a risk out of prison than in it.”
“What would you have me do? Stop drinking and gambling, start attending mass, find a proper wife, and settle down?”
“Precisely.”
“You’ve got to be jesting.” A pained grimace rippled across his countenance when she merely arched a brow. “You’re not jesting.”
“I wish I were. I wish I’d come here on an amusing whim, and not out of desperation to save my brother. You’re not well, Sterling.” Lifting her head, she gazed at him in earnest. “You haven’t been well for a long time.”
Because her words struck a chord of truth deep down inside of his black, rotting soul, he didn’t try to refute them. Instead, he clenched his jaw and stood up to pace a restless circle around the fountain before he stopped at where he’d started.
“You’re here because you think you can save me, Sarah. And I commend you for it. I love you for it.” He drew a breath, dragged a hand through his hair, managed one last, pitiful smile in an attempt to disguise the hurt, the pain, the misery. The raw, achingemptiness. “But what if I’m not worth saving?”
Chapter Five
Rosemary had forgottenhowsmallLondon was. For such a large, sprawling city, the streets were impossibly narrow, the houses were uncomfortably cloistered together, and the smells…suffice it to say, she hadn’t missed the smells. But she had missed Sir Reginald, and he her, if his frantic chirps at seeing her again were any sign. Or maybe he’d just known she was hiding ginger drops in her pocket. Either way, girl and squirrel were happy to be reunited once again. A good thing, as there wasn’t much else to be happy about.
The Season had already started while she’d been in the country…kissing—and being kissed by—the Duke of Hanover. A secret she had already decided to keep to herself, mostly because she didn’t want to give her grandmother any more ideas about plotting a grand wedding trap and a little bit because she knew no one would believe her.
Rosemary Stanhope, kissed by a duke?
As if she needed to give people another excuse to laugh.
Shemighthave told Joanna and Evie. They wouldn’t think she was lying, and they’d probably have some sage advice to offer given that Joanna had landed a husband, and Evie a fiancé, all within four months of coming to London while Rosemary had lived here her entire life without so much as serious courtship.
But alas, she was forbidden from calling on them or inviting them to call on her. A strict rule that her grandmother didn’t show any signs of alleviating within the next few days or weeks or even months. Which meant that she was back to having Sir Reginald as her lone source of companionship. And that was all right. It was what she was used to, after all. But having gotten a taste of what it was like to have a sister, someone she could confide in and speak her mind to without fear of being considered odd or strange, she wasn’t exactly eager to return to one-sided conversations with a mammal whose preferred activity was climbing trees and stuffing his face with so many acorns that he passed out from the sheer weight of them in his belly.
Although, in that regard she supposed he wasn’t too different from Sterling.
Minus the tree climbing part.
What she needed to do–what shehadto do–was find a way around her grandmother’s decree without being caught. And at Lady Garfield’s birthday picnic, she had the perfect plan to do it.
An annual event, the birthday party would be held at Crown Top Manor, the formal town residence of Lord and Lady Garfield. Located in the midst of Sheffield Park, a district of old, stately homes overlooking the eastern end of the Serpentine, it was within walking distance of Grosvenor Square where the Earl of Hawkridge lived.
If Rosemary walked quickly, that is.
She had no way of knowing if Evie was even staying with Lord Weston, but it was worth trying to find out. So long as her grandmother’s previous behavior held true, Rosemary would have precisely seventy minutes while Lady Ellinwood caught up on all the gossip that had circulated through thetonduring her absence.
Her grandmother’s close-knit circle of friends would start off under the tent in the rear garden as they always did, but the heat and flies circulating around tables filled with lemonade and tea and sweets would soon drive them inside to the front parlor. A parlor that did not offer a clear view of the gardens, giving Rosemary the time and opportunity she needed to dash off to Grosvenor Square.
No one would notice she was missing. To be honest, she doubted anyone would even notice she was there to begin with. No one but her grandmother, but Lady Ellinwood would be too preoccupied with finding out who had flashed too much ankle at the ball the night before to realize that her granddaughter had snuck off.
