“No, tell me what you were going to say.” Perhaps it was because Rose listened more than she offered advice, but when Rose did offer her thoughts, Elizabeth always wanted to hear them.
“Before you completely push Oliver out of your heart, are you sure you do not wish to simply tell him the truth about how you feel? See if perhaps he—”
“No,” Elizabeth cut her off. “I cannot.”
“But why?” Rose’s voice sounded a little pleading. “What if he does return your affection? You could both avoid the whole Season and get on with your life together that much sooner.”
“Or he might tell me he does not return my affections and will never be able to look me in the eyes again. Then, I would lose my best friend as well as having to live with the humiliation of it all for the rest of my life.”
“Kate would be proud of that tragic speech.”
Elizabeth smiled. “She would, wouldn’t she? The point is, it’s too great a risk. One that I’m not willing to take.”
“Fine,” said Rose, but she didn’t sound happy about it. “I suppose I see your reasoning.”
“I knew you would. So will you help me become more of a Town Diamond? Look more confident and sophisticated?” Rose had been assuming various identities for years. She was a master at morphing into whomever the occasion called for. Elizabeth knew there would be no better tutor for feigning confidence.
“I suppose I can teach you a few tricks. But Elizabeth, I also feel that if you have to change yourself for love, it’s probably not a love worth having.” She became a touch smug. “Besides, I think it’s a silly reason to not tell Oliver of your feelings, and a tad bit cowardly.” This was yet another
reason why Rose was so dear to Elizabeth. When asked for her opinion, Rose never tried to sweeten her words. She spoke them, honest and true, without any coddling or manipulation.
“Once again, you’re making me feel so welcome here,” said Elizabeth with mocking smile.
Rose chuckled and leaned over to squeeze Elizabeth’s hand. “I am happy you’re here, Elizabeth. There is no one else for whom I would even consider coming back into London so soon.”
“And you won’t say anything to Carver about my feelings for Oliver?”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
Those words brought an immense amount of relief. The last thing she wanted was for her brother to confess her feelings to Oliver on her behalf. “Thank you.”
“Just promise me one thing,” said Rose, softening her voice. “Don’t lose out on a wonderful life with Oliver because you are too afraid of rejection.”
“Would you have been able to make that same promise to me a month ago, when you left Dalton Park because you suspected Carver didn’t love you?”
Rose’s lips pressed into a line, but Elizabeth could tell that her sister-in-law was trying to hide a smile. “You’re not supposed to question my profound statements. You’re simply supposed to marvel at my wisdom.”
Elizabeth couldn’t help but laugh. She stood from the settee, already weary from the emotional weight of their conversation and eager to move on. “I’ll just go to my room now and think about the importance of your wise words until the soirée tonight.” Elizabeth had almost forgotten about the soirée at Miss Loxley’s home. She cringed at the thought of attending what would surely be the event of the Season. She thought immediately of at least ten different ways she could bungle the evening.
Rose picked up a small embroidery hoop from the basket beside the settee and nestled back into the cushions. “No, you won’t. But you could at least pretend to find me wise beyond my years.”
Elizabeth paused in the doorway, eyeing her usually spirited sister-in-law sitting in the drawing room, docile as a fawn, needle in hand. Somehow the picture before her was at odds with the Rose she had known when she had first come to Dalton House. Elizabeth chuckled. “What happened to, ‘If you have to change yourself for love it isn’t worth having?’”
Rose just grinned and continued with her embroidery. “If there is anything I’ve learned in the short time I’ve been married to your brother, it’s that there is a difference between changing yourself for someone to love you, and growing into a better person.” She paused and looked up at Elizabeth, eyes twinkling. “Now go away and don’t say anything else before you ruin my wonderfully profound statement.”
Elizabeth decided to take her walk after all. After a quiet—and rather dull—walk in the park with her maid, who seemed too nervous to engage in even the most trifling of conversations, Elizabeth returned to Kensworth House. Really, she didn’t understand what was so exciting about London or why everyone raved about it so. The air felt uncomfortably thick and hazy, and it smelled of the manure that filled the streets. Everywhere she looked—everywhere besides Grosvenor Square, where she stayed with her titled brother—she saw poverty and deprivation, and no one paying a whit of attention to the needs of those who suffered.
So far she was thoroughly unimpressed.
As she returned to her bedchamber, untying the bonnet strings from her chin, Elizabeth heard her name spoken from within Rose’s bedchamber. She paused by the door for a moment, wondering if maybe Rose had called out to her, but when she recognized the hushed voice of her brother, she knew she was the subject of a conversation she was not meant to hear.
To keep moving would have been the proper decision. Eavesdropping was not exactly the habit of an upstanding member of society. And yet—they were talking about her. Her feet remained glued to the rug outside Rose’s door.
“…you’ve spoken with him about her?” asked Rose. Spoken with whom about what? Propriety be hanged. Elizabeth pressed her ear to the wooden door.
“I did,” said Carver.
“And what did he say?”