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“Your Grace?” Dunstan said, shocked.

“I thought I might come along and keep Lady Rose company.”

“Excellent idea,” Marianne said, although Rose was not sure that Marianne was happy about the idea, as her expression was unreadable.

“So, how many pieces will we see of yours today, Lord Dunstan?” Rose inquired.

“Three, I believe.”

“Marianne told me that you painted a portrait of Lady Lucinda’s parents for her?”

“I did. And I believe you have been sketching little William George.”

Rose’s eyes widened. “News travels fast. He was an adorable subject and very agreeable. He slept the whole time,” she said with a laugh.

“The best kind,” Lord Dunstan agreed. “What about you, Your Grace? I believe you are quite the artist yourself?”

“I dabble but I confess, I get so little time to indulge. My preference is botany.”

Rose smiled and said, “You did a fine job of the sunrise from your office.”

Marianne looked from Rose to her brother and then back again, one of her finely arched eyebrows lifted.

Dunstan smiled. “I would like to see that someday, Your Grace.”

The duke’s eyes widened for a moment at Rose. “It was merely a quick sketch, nothing worth showing anyone.”

But he had shown it to her, given it to her. Perhaps she should not have mentioned it. The carriage fell quiet.

Edward broke the silence. “Lord Dunstan, Marianne and I would like to invite you to dinner on Thursday.”

It was Dunstan’s turn to be shocked. “Oh, thank you. I would be delighted.”

“It will be a family affair. My brother Charles and his wife will also be in attendance.”

“Will they?” Marianne asked.

“Yes. I insisted on it.”

“I see,” she replied. “An official summons, how familial.”

Edward gave his sister a mocking smile as if to say, we will talk about this later.

Marianne then turned her attention back to Dunstan. “I am looking forward to seeing some of the new pieces. I believe that the Duke of Richmond may be attending, as his principal residence, Goodwood House, will be featured.”

“I wonder how it compares to Ashtonvale,” Rose said. “I have never seen any other estates other than Brookhaven and Ashtonvale.”

“You will be able to see for yourself if the news is correct.” The duke turned to Dunstan then. “I am impressed by your carriage; it is well sprung. Who made it?”

“I believe it was Barker and Company. My uncle had it made to his specifications not long before he passed.”

“Excellent maker. My own carriage was made by them. The Prince Regent uses them also.”

Rose looked out the window, bored with talking of carriages, but her thoughts soon turned to her brother. Thankfully, Cecil would certainly never be caught in an art gallery. So, she should be assured that she would not experience an unpleasant surprise. She hated the thought of airing all the family laundry in court just to get what was already rightfully hers. Her father would be turning in his grave thinking he had not done enough to protect her against her brother.

When they arrived at the gallery, they found it full of people. It would be a crush, and therefore it would be a fight to see anything. She tried not to show her disappointment.

“Stay close,” the duke said in her ear in his deep growl. “It will be an annoying shuffle and easy to be separated.” Gooseflesh appeared on her arms. She nodded, and when he offered his arm, she took it. His forearm was strong under her fingers, and the superfine of his jacket was warm and solid.