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“My father as well.”

“Yes. It must have been very hard on you to nurse him for so long.”

“It was, but my father would never complain, even when the pain was strong. He did not want to lose his wits, you see, so he would only take laudanum when it became unbearable. His illness was not a quick nor a kind one.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” he said softly.

“It is done, and he would not want me to wallow in despair over him, but I do miss him.” She heard the squeak in her voice, the one that heralded that tears were about to be unleashed.

He nodded, obviously aware that her emotions were about to be on show. “On that note, I wish you adieu.”

She gave him a watery smile. “Good night, Your Grace.”

“Good night, Rose.”

He kissed her hand and then turned on his heel and left her looking after him. He had called her Rose. She could still feel his lips on her hand as she watched him disappear behind the door at the end of the hall. She hugged herself and then made her way to her own room.

Elsie had the fire stoked and a warming pan ready to make sure the sheets on her bed were not too cold. The room was spacious and decorated in light-blue silk and ivory tones. It was a beautiful room with a plush Persian rug by the bed.

“Would you like me to help you undress or would you like me to do your hair first?”

“Hair first, I think. I just had a conversation with the duke.”

“Oh, what is he like? I am getting mixed messages from the staff about him. Some say he is generous and kind, and others seem to be afraid of him.”

“I think he can be both kind and scary. The duke has an unleashed power about him, but he was quite amiable. However, there is something…odd about him.”

“He is not at all like Lady Marianne, then.”

“Not at all.”

Elsie picked up the ivory-backed hairbrush that had belonged to Rose’s mother and brushed her hair.

*

The duke, the dowager, and Marianne were all seated at the table when she came down the next morning. There was a sideboard laid out.

“We eat informally at breakfast,” Marianne told her. “Just help yourself.”

Rose picked up her plate and walked to the sideboard and looked at the selections. She spared a glance at the duke’s plate. He seemed to have a little of everything, but was not eating it. Instead, he was reading the morning paper. Her father was the same, always eating his meals cold. She selected a boiled egg and some toast and returned to her chair, which was pulled out by a waiting footman.

“Tea, my lady?” he asked from over her shoulder.

“Yes, thank you.”

He poured her some tea and stood back.

“How did you sleep?” Marianne asked her after a moment.

“Very well. It is a lovely room.”

“The view should give you a fascinatingly dull view of the street in either direction,” the duke said from behind his paper.

“Oh, I do not know. I shall know all the goings-on just from looking out the window.”

“I expect you shall, if you are interested in when the coal is delivered.”

“Edward,” Marianne admonished.