Page 23

Sebastian descended from his carriage and faced the front door of Langton House with significant trepidation. He released a tense breath. This was ridiculous. There was something horribly wrong with him if he would rather face off with another one of Rosalind’s suitors than simply hand her a small birthday gift. Dukes were not supposed to worry about whether a gift would be well received. They were above such things. He shook his head slightly. The words had never sounded more hollow.

Straightening his shoulders, he raised the knocker and let it fall. He did not have to wait long before the door opened.

“Good day, Rutherford.”

The Langtons’ butler bowed. “Good day, Your Grace. Please come in.” He stepped aside so that Sebastian could enter the main hall.

“Is Miss Ainsworth at home?” he asked.

His question was answered by a chorus of female voices coming from the direction of the drawing room. Moments later, Rosalind appeared beside Miss Spencer and Miss Fotheringham.

“It was very good of you to come,” she said.

“But of course,” Miss Spencer gushed. “It is your birthday after all.”

“And we had to see you one more time before you become an old married woman,” Miss Fotheringham added.

Rosalind’s smile looked forced, and Sebastian’s grip on the small box in his hand tightened. He glanced at the butler. Things would only become worse if the young ladies continued their conversation unaware of his presence in the hall.

Rutherford did not miss the cue. “I beg your pardon, miss.” His voice carried across the hall. “His Grace, the Duke of Kelbrook, is here.”

One of the young ladies gasped. Sebastian was not sure which one. It did not matter greatly, but he rather hoped it had not been Rosalind. The titter that followed made him even more uncomfortable, but he knew that particular response did not originate from her.

“Please excuse me,” Rosalind told the other ladies before stepping away and crossing the hall to greet him. “Good afternoon, Sebastian.”

“Good afternoon.” He inclined his head. “Forgive me. I did not mean to interrupt your time with your friends.” Although his eyes were on Rosalind, he could feel Miss Spencer’s and Miss Fotheringham’s gazes on him.

“This feels very much like it did when we crossed the Marlboroughs’ ballroom together.” She spoke softly, keeping her back to her friends. “Are they watching us like hawks?”

“They are indeed.” It was an all-too-familiar sensation.

“Well, that is decidedly unpleasant of them.”

Sebastian barely managed to cover his surprised chuckle with a cough. He was not sure what he’d anticipated when the three ladies had exited the drawing room together, but to have Rosalind choose to be his ally was as heartening as it was unexpected. He cleared his throat. “I brought you something for your birthday. It’s nothing much. A token, really. But I did not want you to think that I had forgotten.” He handed her the small box in his hand and was gratified to see the look of pleasure in her dark eyes.

“That is very kind. Thank you.”

He nodded. “I will leave you now so that you may bid your friends a proper farewell.”

“Would you like me to open your gift first?”

“No. It’s best opened when you are on your own.”

She looked at the box curiously. “Very well.”

More than happy to avoid a drawn-out exchange with Miss Spencer and Miss Fotheringham, he inclined his head politely to acknowledge them across the hall before turning back to Rosalind. “Until tomorrow, then.”

“Yes.” To his relief, she did not hesitate. “Until tomorrow.”

* * *

Rosalind returned to the drawing room alone. Having fielded Elinor’s questions about why Sebastian had departed so quickly and deflected Margaret’s curiosity over what Sebastian had given her for almost five minutes, she had waved them off with far less sorrow than she likely would have otherwise experienced. She sighed. Sebastian’s sudden arrival—and her friends’ reactions to it—had been discomforting, to say the least, yet she could not deny her rather bewildering feeling of regret when he’d left.

She took a seat beside the fire and studied the box in her hands. It was not large, but it rattled as though it contained many pieces. A folded square of paper was tucked beneath the string tied around the box. She slid it out and opened it to discover a short note.

Dear Rosalind,

Once you are situated at Finley Park, I would very much like you to choose a piece of jewelry from my mother’s collection as my birthday gift to you. Until then, and knowing that you may feel the need to count your way through several things in the days ahead, I offer you this small token in remembrance of your birthday.