Sterling had traveled across Europe. Attended some of the most debaucherously sinful parties known to man. He’d sipped champagne in a hot air balloon and cheered on the great Anatis to victory in the Queen’s Box at the Grand National. He’d visited castles. Dined with royalty. Spent averymemorable evening attending a private viewing of the Spanish Belly Dancing Troupe. Yet for all of his exploits and all his adventures, he had never been happier, or more content, than when he was with Rosemary.
To date, they’d had some of the most interesting and obscure conversations of his lifetime. She made him think. More than that, she made him pay attention. He couldn’t play the fool when he was with her. The affable, amiable duke who didn’t care about anything or anyone. Who was quick with a joke, but whose smile never quite reached his eyes.
No one seemed to notice that.
Not Kincaid or Weston or Sarah.
But Rosemary did.
She possessed an instinctive sense for when he was pretending. For when he was saying all the right words and going through all the right motions, but he wasn’t there. Not really. She forced him to be present in the moment. To absorb and acknowledge not only the emotions of those around him, but his own innermost thoughts and feelings.
He couldn’t hide when he was with Rosemary.
Not from her…and not from himself, either.
But he damned well wished he could hide from Lady Ellinwood.
“My granddaughter raises a valid point, Your Grace.” Lady Ellinwood ran her fingers along the top of her cane. Made of whalebone, the handle was worn smooth from years of daily use. “I have raised Rosemary since she was a young girl, and am more aware than most of her shortcomings. The most significant being her inability to ingratiate herself into High Society despite my best efforts to set her up for success.”
“What are you saying, Lady Ellinwood?” he asked in a tone pitched dangerously low. By all outward appearances, he was calm and relaxed. His legs crossed at the knee, his spine casually slouched to follow the curvature of the seat, his arms draped out to the side. But on the inside, he was a coiled wolf, ready to launch itself at whoever dared speak ill of his fiancée. Regardless of whether they were an eighty-two-year-old grandmother or not.
He’d tolerated the slights that Lady Ellinwood had directed at him. Mostly because he deserved far worse. But he wasn’t about to sit idly by while she used that vicious viper’s tongue on the woman that he loved.
The woman that he loved.
Did he love Rosemary?
In a word, yes.
He did.
“I am merely raising attention to what others are already discussing behind closed doors.” Lady Ellinwood lifted her chin and, although she was at least a foot and a half shorter, still somehow managed to stare down her nose at him. “Given your wealth and title, you had the pick of any eligible lady in this country and all those surrounding it. My granddaughter is fair to look upon, I’ll grant her that. Fairer yet if she’d stop helping herself to a second plate at dinner.”
Rosemary blushed.
A low, rumbling growl rose from the depths of Sterling’s throat.
Lady Ellinwood didn’t seem to notice.
Or if she did, she failed to care.
“But Rosemary hardly has the qualities of a duchess,” the elderly woman continued. “Which begs the question, Your Grace, why you have chosen her to be yours. What do you see in my granddaughter that others do not?”
“What do I see?” His furious gaze shot to Rosemary, who was staring intently at her lap. Not giving a tinker’s cuss what Lady Ellinwood thought, he reached across the carriage and covered her hand with his.
Startled, she glanced up and their eyes met; fierce, stormy slate diving into hurt, misty blue.
“I see a woman who is well read and highly intelligent,” he began. “I see a woman who is kind to everyone, regardless of whether they are a prince or a pauper, a lady’s maid or a lady. I see a woman who is loving to all creatures great and small. A woman who has known loss, but hasn’t let it harden her. Who has been ignored and overlooked, but hasn’t let it dull her spirit or her optimism.” He drew a breath. “But most of all, I see a woman who was brave enough to extend a branch to a man that was drowning. And who was strong enough to pull him to shore.”
His gaze cut to Lady Ellinwood. Bolts of lightning flashed in his eyes. “That’swhat I see. Have you any other inane questions, or can we conclude this farce? Your granddaughter and I will be married, with or without your approval. I am not going to beg for it, and neither is she. So you can come to the wedding with a bloody smile on your face or you cannot come at all. It doesn’t make a damned bit of difference to me.”
“I’ve no further questions.” Instead of being embarrassed, or at the very least chastised, Rosemary’s grandmother almost appeared…pleased. As if Sterling had said precisely what she’d wanted to hear. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
“For what?” he bit out.
“For seeing all of the unique qualities in my granddaughter that I do. Rosemary would not fare well in a marriage where she was expected to put aside her eccentricities and behave in a manner befitting of a traditional duchess. I am pleased to know that with you, she won’t have to. You’ve brought me a great deal of comfort. For that, I thank you.”
Rosemary’s jaw dropped.
