“So would I,” said Mary with a twinkle that Rose had never seen on the woman before.
Carver chuckled but didn’t have time to defend himself before the duchess gave them both a maternal scowl. “Well, I think you two look like overgrown children in need of reprimanding. I’m tempted to tie your legs together for the rest of the evening like I did when you two quarreled as boys.”
The duke laughed this time. “But Darling, don’t you remember that it never seemed to punish them as much as it made them laugh over trying to coordinate their steps and falling over?”
She smiled and moved to stand beside the duke, wrapping her hands around his arm. “Of course. That was the point. Did you think it was supposed to be a punishment?”
He smiled a fond warm smile down at the duchess and said, “You are a brilliant woman.”
“Yes, I know,” she said with a smirk.
The love between the duke and duchess made Rose ache. She ached because it was beginning to feel like she would never experience a love that was long and lasting and able to weather the harsh storms of life.
In the library, Carver had confirmed her fears. Even if she married him, he would not share his grief with her. He would continue through life masking his pain, pretending to be a perfect and happy man. Rose didn’t want a perfect man. She didn’t want a hero. It might be nice at first, but eventually it would grow old. Tiring. She would always feel like there was a wall between them. But she loved him. And her heart hurt to think of ever having to say goodbye to him. Maybe she could learn to be the only one in a relationship who needed help. The only one to be vulnerable. But another whisper somewhere within her said it would never work.
“We can go into dinner just as soon as Elizabeth comes down,” said the duchess. “Her maid sent word that she had something of a wardrobe issue and needed a moment to recover it.” It seemed that everyone was having an odd night.
An uncomfortable silence settled over the room and Rose resisted the urge to look at Carver. She was afraid he would see her disappointment. Her uncertainty.
Finally, Elizabeth entered the drawing room. Rose had to hide her surprise at the vision of vivacious beauty in front of her. She tossed a sideways glance to the duchess and found that her wide eyed reaction mimicked Rose’s. The entire family looked fascinated by Elizabeth’s transformation. Of course, she had been beautiful before, but in that pale pink dress hugging her figure, with a slightly lower neckline, she looked like a woman. Elizabeth’s golden tresses were even arranged in a more intricate and fashionable style, and the glittering sapphire on her neck only enhanced the intensity of her bright blue eyes.
But the most striking change was that a smile had replaced the scowl that had accompanied her most of the week. What could have inspired such a change? But when Oliver stood up with a grin and crossed to Elizabeth, the answer was obvious.
He smiled and kissed her hand, not just the air above it. “Hello, Little Lizzie,” said Oliver.
Rose saw Elizabeth’s smile drop before she quickly recovered it and tossed Oliver a cutting remark about his swollen bottom lip making him look even uglier than before. But Oliver laughed and the whole room seemed to lose interest in the conversation. Apparently, it was nothing new to them.
“How long has Elizabeth been in love with Oliver?” Rose whispered to Carver as they sat down to dinner.
Carver looked sharply down at her with creased brows. The surprise in his eyes was real. “Elizabeth doesn’t love Oliver. The two act more like brother and sister than she and I do. They’ve been that way since Oliver and I started spending our summers here during our Eton years.”
Rose turned her attention down to the first course of cream soup, but couldn’t keep her eyes from moving toward Oliver and Elizabeth.. And the more she saw, the more certain she was that Carver had no idea what he was talking about. Rose now knew what it was to be in love. And the look that Elizabeth gave Oliver when he wasn’t paying attention—the look of longing, pain, and hope all mixed together—was the look of a woman very much in love with a man who didn’t return her affection.
Rose suddenly realized that she had never actually told Carver that she loved him after he had declared himself. Why hadn’t she said the words back? Even if she hadn't accepted his marriage at the time, she should have at least told him that she returned his regard. What had she said as a reply? Thank you. She cringed.
She peeked up at the strong handsome man beside her. He didn’t know she was watching him, and he looked…sad. His shoulder hung a little heavier and his brows were pulled together. He looked weary and exhausted. Rose wished more than anything that he would let her in. Let her take care of him just as much as he would take care of her. There was so much about each other that they both still didn’t know. Of course, if she married him, they would have the rest of their lives to figure those things out. Rose didn’t need to know them all before they married. She just needed to know that there was the potential for her to learn them.
Carver had fully accepted her as she was. She wanted to be able to do the same for him.
Chapter 30
Carver’s eyes fluttered open to the sight of Oliver hovering over his bed. “Blast!” He jumped and wielded his coverlet as if it were a shield rather than a piece of fabric.
“Effective,” Oliver said dryly and with a raised eyebrow. “If I had been attempting to murder you my plans would surely have been thwarted now.”
Carver rolled his eyes and tossed his shield away. “I have not missed your early morning wake up calls.” He scraped his hands over his face, trying to cast off the last bit of sleep.
“Are you going to get up, or should I get in there with you?”
“I’d rather you didn’t.” His feet met the cold floor. Oliver had Carver’s robe at the ready and tossed it at him. “I’m beginning to think you’ve missed your calling, Olly. Would you consider taking Brandon’s position? At least then your presence in the morning would be justified.”
Oliver sunk into the chair across the room. “You couldn’t afford me,” said Oliver with a smirk. “Alright. From the top. How did you find Rose?”
Carver grinned and dropped into the other leather chair across from the one Oliver was in. “She found me.” His fingers traced the cracks in the leather. “Her accomplice got his information mixed up and sent her to my home instead of Newburry’s. She arrived on my doorstep with a pillow stuffed under her dress and the unfortunate news that unless I paid her off handsomely, word of my impending fatherhood would be made known to London.”
Oliver laughed just as Carver suspected he would. “What I wouldn’t give to have seen your face. No doubt Newburry would have pushed his money into her purse faster than she could snap. But you haven’t so much as flirted with a woman since—,” Oliver caught himself, “—well, in a long time. So did you call her out on it right away?”
Carver then poured out the tale of the carriage ride, the night in the stables, how he fell in love with her almost instantly, and everything else leading up to the moment of Oliver’s untimely appearance.