Page 24 of Once Upon a Devilish Duke

“Thank you for my drawing. It seems that sunsets are not the only dramatic scene to be found from your study window.”

“You’re welcome. Please excuse me, I am late.”

“Of course.” She curtsied in the doorway, and he bent at the waist before striding off down the hallway.

If he had thought that would have been the end of the conversation regarding the sketch, he would have been kidding himself, but he really did not have time to worry about Rose right now.

*

When he returned later that day, exhausted, he found a sketch under his study doorway. A simple watercolor of a hyacinth in pastel pink and purple. He laughed as he picked it up. She was quite accomplished. A simple R in the lower right corner was all that told him that it was Rose who had painted it. What had he started? Were they to out art each other now?

Dragging himself to his chair, he sat heavily and sighed. The upcoming signing of the Convention between the Americas and England had agitated the prince, and he worried about his safety, although there had been some years of good feelings between the two countries. None of Edward’s reports signaled any reason to be wary, but this would be the first major visit by American politicians since Jefferson and the war in which the American colony had become independent. After defeating Napoleon, Prinny had not counted on the colonies in America to put up much of a fight, and it had been his greatest defeat and embarrassment. Edward assured him that they would take extra precautions to ensure his safety.

Edward wrote notes to Tony and a few other spymasters that he would need eyes on the prince at all times and ears around any communications surrounding the signing of the Convention. He sealed them and pulled on the bellpull and waited for his butler to arrive. In the meantime, he looked again at the watercolor Rose had painted. She had a delicate hand and a keen eye. He was impressed.

To get his mind off Rose, he worked through the afternoon, writing a list of all those who had been present in the House that day. There were one or two new lords there, thankfully not the new earl of Brookhaven. There was one new lord he had never met. And he was making his voice heard on every topic. A Lord Morland. He was new to his title, as his brother had recently died in the Caribbean. He was a most opinionated man, but his morals seemed at odds with the nature of the House. He would keep an eye on him for a few more days. Fresh lords often made a fuss at first and then realized that there were rules, traditions, and protocols under which the House ran, and many soon tired of waiting their turn.

He reluctantly picked up a dispatch. Read it. Then summarized it. Picked up the next and repeated the process. When his eyes refused to focus any longer, he took himself back to bed. If he could just get an hour or two, he would be somewhat human for tonight’s ball.

*

Marianne studied her brother as he stood waiting for their mother on the top step. “He looks tired,” she said. “I mean, he always looks tired, but he looks exhausted,” she whispered to Rose as they settled into the carriage.

“He does,” Rose agreed. “He will make himself sick if he does not slow down.”

“I almost wish we had not agreed to go tonight. If I thought he would use the time to rest, I would have, but I know my brother. He would have spent the night working.”

“There are mountains of paper and packages on his desk.”

Marianne’s eyes widened. “You have been in his study?”

“Well, yes. He invited me to see the sunset.”

“The sunset,” Marianne repeated. Her brother, her brother, had invited Rose into his study. Invited! Well, this was a revelation she had not expected.

“Should I not have gone?”

Could she see the shock on her face? “That hardly matters now, does it?”

“I suppose it doesn’t. The door was open the whole time, I assure you. He is very diligent at whatever he does. His fingers are always ink-stained, and we only see him at breakfast or at night for a ball. I cannot fathom how he can stay in that room for so long.”

“He went out today,” Marianne defended. Why, she wasn’t entirely sure.

“Yes, but where and what does he do when he gets there?”

“Who knows what men do with their time? I know he sees the prince at least once a week. Perhaps that is where he went today.”

“The prince regent?”

“Yes, he has some sort of duty to perform.” She frowned. Had she never actually asked him what his duty to the prince was? If she had, she could not remember. “It most likely has a title to go with it, like master of the horse or the dog or something.”

Rose giggled just as Marianne’s mother joined the carriage, quickly followed by the duke.

“What were you two twittering about?” her mother asked.

Marianne answered, “What it is that Edward does for the prince.”

Edward’s head snapped up. “What do you mean, what do I do?”