Page 21 of The Duke's Auctioned Spinster
But there was this other side of him, a side that she had only glimpsed so far, and it was a side she wanted to know better.
But how well could she get to know him over the next four meetings?
She took a deep breath and picked up the handkerchief. She would have to get it washed. It was still stained with her blood, the abstract shapes covering the surface. She ran it through her fingers and then traced the embroidered initials.
E.H.
They were strong letters, and stood alone. She couldn’t help but think of him as a boy, climbing trees and shirking all of his duties. But that boy turned into a man and suffered a great tragedy, as well as having responsibility thrust upon his shoulders.
What had he been like at the time? How had he coped with such emotional weight?
Now, that was the Edmund she would have liked to know better, but she supposed such a thing was impossible because thatEdmund no longer existed. He had shaped himself into the man he was today and seemed quite content with his life.
“Well, Edmund, let us see what you have planned for our next meeting.”
She set the handkerchief aside and then sank into the pillow, closing her eyes and thinking of the events of the day, and all that was to come.
Chapter Nine
Edmund stroked his chin. He could not stop thinking about Rose. She was bold, stubborn, amusing without realizing it, and quite challenging. All in all, he found her most unsettling.
“You must keep control of yourself,” he said, staring at himself in the mirror. As he looked at his reflection, he wondered where all the years had gone. It seemed like only yesterday he was a boy hanging upside down from a branch, and sometimes it was as if he was going to wake up from a dream and find that all of this had been an illusion.
But such a thing would never happen, no matter how desperately he clung to his youth.
As Edmund exited the room, his butler, George, was waiting for him with a warm towel. Edmund lowered his head, and George pressed the towel to his cheeks.
“Where would you like to take breakfast this morning, Your Grace?” George said in his dour tone.
“In my study,” Edmund said after a moment’s consideration. “There is much to be done today,” he added, planning to focus on paperwork and accounts rather than thinking about a pair of bright eyes, the smile that threatened to break through a cloud of frustration, or the oddly captivating way she followed her instincts in a headstrong manner.
George bowed and turned on his heels, the men heading in opposite directions. Edmund arranged some of his papers and hummed a cheerful tune when George arrived with some tea, two sausages, scrambled eggs, and buttered toast.
“This is delightful,” Edmund said.
George stood beside the door, his hands clasped behind his back, his posture ramrod straight.
“Are there any arrangements you wish for me to make, Your Grace?” he asked.
Edmund chewed on a bit of sausage. It was flavored with herbs. He made a mental note to ask the cook to make more of them.
“I am not entirely sure. I don’t suppose you have any ideas on where to take a lady on a promenade?” he asked. George’s gaze flashed toward him for a moment. There probably wasn’t room in the butler’s life for such a thing, and if there was, it wasprobably a gentle, tranquil romance that brought him nothing but comfort.
And such a thing seemed boring to Edmund.
“I am afraid not, Your Grace. Although if you do seek my opinion, there is the estate’s lake. It seems to me that it might be the kind of place that is associated with romance.”
Edmund stared at George.
“Perhaps I have underestimated you, George.”
“Your Grace?”
“Never mind.” Edmund leaned back and idly passed his fork through the eggs, turning them around and around before eating them, as if they weren’t scrambled already.
“The lake,” he mused. “It has been a while since I was there, and I do have so very many fond memories.”
His mind drifted away, remembering how his parents used to take him, Lydia, and Charlotte out to the lake.
