Page 60 of The Perfect Rose

“I . . . I . . .” Miriam faltered and looked down at the ground. “I’ll show you. But only if you promise not to be angry with me.”

Show him? How could Miriam possibly show him Lord Hanby’s intentions? “I promise not to be angry so long as this will help my pursuit of her.”

She nodded and led him toward a side door that adjoined the ballroom and the parlor. Frederick watched her walk over to a chair and fetch her sewing basket that was stuffed beneath a blanket. She dug through her basket to the bottom and pulled out a book. Romeo and Juliet. It was the same book she almost always carried with her. She clutched the book to her chest. “Samuel found some information that would be helpful for you tonight.” She handed him the book. “Turn straight to the bookmark.”

Frederick’s fingers found the ribbon dangling from the bottom of the pages in the book, flipped it open, and began to read aloud:

JULIET. What storm is this that blows so contrary? Is Romeo slaughter’d, and is Tybalt dead?

Miriam ripped the book from his hands and scanned the words Frederick had just read. “Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no!” She covered her hand with her mouth and dropped the book to the floor.

Although Frederick had no idea what Miriam was so upset by, he had no doubt that her terror in that moment was very real. He took her hands. “What’s wrong, Miriam?”

“I gave Lady Rose the wrong book.” She shook her head as if she could make the statement untrue.

“No, I saw you give this book to her. Maybe she just moved the bookmark.”

“Frederick.” Miriam pushed out a breath. “I have two copies of this book. And one is not, in actuality, Romeo and Juliet.”

The silence between them was filled with the sounds of a quadrille. It was as if the two of them were in an entirely different world, not just in another room. What did she mean that one of those books was not Romeo and Juliet? “Then what was the other book?”

She bit her bottom lip. “You promised not to be angry with me.”

He nodded.

“It was filled with blank parchment that Samuel and I have been passing between us for the past year. It was all fun and games until recently. It has some very personal and tender feelings in those pages. And, Samuel recorded a bet that was in the book at White’s. It was Lord Hanby betting that he would be wed to Lady Rose.”

Frederick’s mouth went dry. “And that was the book that you gave to Lady Rose?”

Miriam nodded, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Perhaps she didn’t read it.” What were the chances that she hadn’t even cracked it open? If Frederick were being honest with himself, the answer was not one Miriam would like to know.

A tear slipped down Miriam’s face. “Am I ruined, Frederick?”

He scooped his sister into an embrace. “Of course you aren’t ruined,” he whispered into her hair. “Even if Lady Rose read that book, I’m certain she wouldn’t tell a soul what she’d seen.” But did he? She had seemed so at peace descending the stairs before the ball, had she concocted a plan to use that book to extricate herself from a marriage to Lord Hanby? “I’ll be dancing with Lady Rose next. I’ll ask for the book back on your behalf.”

Miriam sniffed into Frederick’s black waistcoat. “Thank you, Frederick. I should go check on the housekeeper and your bouquet.” She turned tail and fled the room, out into the corridor and away from prying eyes.

Frederick knew a moment of panic as he watched her go. He couldn’t put his finger on just what made him nervous. He wanted to believe Rose was trustworthy. That alone was something he wouldn’t have believed possible a couple short weeks ago. Surely, she wouldn’t give away Miriam’s secret. No, it was something else. He walked back into the ballroom and saw Lord Hanby leading Rose away from the set. They approached Lady Gardner. Lord Hanby spoke briefly with Rose’s mother, and then they exited the room entirely.

The reality of what Frederick was witnessing hit him with the force of a bullet, ripping through his heart, yet leaving it beating enough to feel the extent of the pain. Lord Hanby had obviously just taken Rose somewhere to ask for her hand in marriage. He’d claimed the first two dances and then immediately asked her mother for permission for a private audience. Once again, Frederick was too late.

Chapter Forty-one

It seemed Mr. Owen Redford had shifted his attentions to Miss Coolidge. As much as that impacted Rose’s options this evening, she felt the two would suit each other splendidly. Rose only wished she’d seen it coming earlier. For now, she had no options. No Mr. Redford. No Mr. Hastings. No duke. And if there was one thing Rose could confidently say, it was that she would not accept the forthcoming offer of marriage from Lord Hanby. The last two dances had been acutely painful. She’d donned her society mask and the viscount had expressed appreciation for her ability to present herself perfectly. He’d gone on and on, listing out her different perfections; her beauty, her grace, her dancing, her manners, he even had the gall to mention how perfectly her height set him as a dancing partner to the best advantage.

Knowing as she did that the man intended to propose to her tonight, he could not have made a worse case for himself. The Rose Gardner that would leave this house party was a very different creature from the Rose Gardner that arrived here. Her past self would have been flattered that Lord Hanby had noticed all her efforts to fit into a precise mold that society dictated. It would have been a boon to her exceedingly frustrating season. But she knew herself better now. She knew that the feelings she held within her were just as important, perhaps even more so than the poise and skills she possessed. Her feelings were a driving force for her future goals. And any neutral feelings she had felt for Lord Hanby had fled the moment she read about his ridiculous bet on her.

He guided her to a seat in the drawing room, then turned and shut the door behind him. Rose’s stomach clenched, but she clasped her hands on her lap and straightened her back. The least she could do was allow Lord Hanby to go through with his offer; he was going to lose one hundred guineas, after all.

The viscount walked to the side table and picked up an enormous bouquet of wildflowers. The entire top half of his body was hidden beneath the beautiful arrangement. The wildflowers that had matched those on the breakfast table this morning. And the same wildflowers that had been often replaced in her chambers for the past two weeks. Had the man truly been that thoughtful toward her since the day she’d arrived? Had she judged him too harshly? He crouched down and set the bouquet on the floor next to her. The top of the flower arrangement came all the way up to Rose’s chin as she sat on the settee.

He sat across from her and reached out to take her clasped hands in his. The hold he had on her hands was cold and unattached. It was almost as if she were looking at the scene of a painting; everything looked right, but it felt incredibly numb. “Lady Rose Gardner. I have spoken with your mother and have garnered her permission to offer for your hand in marriage. My standing in society and place in the House of Lords would ensure that you are able to live a life full of all the pleasures London has to offer. You will be the crowning jewel of my home.” He looked at his enormous gift of flowers. “I have brought you these flowers as a symbol of how much I care for you. Would you please be my wife?”

Rose had waited all season for this moment. For a man, just like Lord Hanby, to offer her a future. But the only emotion she could muster was grief. “I am grateful, Lord Hanby, for your generous offer. The flowers are stunning, as are your words. I fear I must ask you to await my reply until the end of the evening. I must speak with my mother.”

His eyebrows furrowed on his forehead. “But I have already discussed the matter with your mother. May I presume to ask of your opinion?”