“Unbearable laugh. Never heard such a nasally thing.” It was always something ridiculous that eventually turned him off to a lady.
“And the one they called The Exquisite?”
“Exquisitely dull.”
“Miss Oak?”
“Too mousy,” Oliver said, as if Carver should know what the devil a term like mousy would even refer to.
Carver wondered if Oliver would ever find the right woman. There seemed to be something tragically wrong with every female he met. Oliver was not critical by nature. He was fairly easy to please, in fact. But when it came to women, it was almost as if he had a perfect imaginary ideal woman who he was measuring everyone else against. If such a woman really existed, Oliver had never mentioned the woman to him.
“Do you think Lizzie is awake yet? I was hoping she and I could get a ride in before she needs to get ready for the ball tonight.” Carver narrowed his eyes on Oliver. Odd that he would think of Elizabeth after the conversation they had just had.
“What have I done to earn that look?” asked Oliver.
“Nothing. It’s just…” Carver sat up straighter and leaned toward Oliver as if he were seeing something for the first time. He searched the man’s eyes, hoping to find the answer he was looking for. But the blank look Oliver returned told him nothing. Absolutely nothing. He sat back. “Never mind.” He was being stupid. Whatever Rose thought she saw between his sister and his friend was simply the comfort of familiarity between old friends. Nothing to be worried about.
Oliver chuckled and stood up. “Alright, then. I’ll go see if I can find her.”
“But don’t go in her room,” Carver blurted out, startling Oliver as well as himself.
Apparently, he felt a little worried.
Oliver blinked at him as if Carver had taken leave of his senses. “No…” he said. “Of course not. What’s gotten into you, Kenny?”
Carver shook his head. “Nothing. I suppose Rose just has me a bit on edge.” He paused and rubbed his face again. “I wish to God that she would give me an answer. I have this devilish feeling that she’s going to slip out during the night without me knowing. I just want her to give me the chance to love her like she deserves.”
That was partly why he hadn’t been sleeping. Ignoring the thought that he might truly be losing his mind, Carver woke up almost every hour last night and went to listen at Rose’s door until he heard a rustle or some sort of indication that she was still inside. Still hadn’t given up on him.
Even once he had cracked the door and peeked in just long enough to be reassured that she was safely under her covers. Was that a normal thing to do? But the fact that he would rather die than have anyone find out about his snooping told him that it probably wasn’t.
The more he grew to love Rose, the more he worried that he would lose her, just like he had Claire. And he refused to let that happen again. He refused to fail Rose the way he failed Claire.
He felt Oliver’s hand grasp his shoulder and jostle him a little. “You’re going to be okay. No matter what Rose’s answer is.” Not exactly the positive reinforcement he was looking for.
Chapter 31
Rose ran her fingers down the fine champagne silk gown, savoring its luxurious feel. Elizabeth’s maid had dropped the gown off earlier that afternoon with the specifications that it be altered for Rose’s shorter height so she could wear it to the ball tonigh
t. It was the kindest of gestures, and yet Rose’s pride still prickled at the realization that Elizabeth had noticed her wardrobe and found it lacking. And standing there in front of the looking glass in a ridiculously beautiful dress with her hair curled, braided and pinned in the most elaborate arrangement she had ever worn, she almost didn’t recognize herself.
She smoothed the fabric’s nonexistent wrinkles for the hundredth time. This didn’t look like her. She no longer bore the dark circles under her eyes from the endless string of sleepless nights. Her cheeks were tinged with a slight blush of excitement and her cheekbones didn’t seem to stick out so far. Rose hadn’t been forced to skip a meal the entire week, and her body was certainly responding favorably to the effect.
She unrolled one of her long evening gloves—that Elizabeth had also provided—until she could once again see the purple twisted scar of her palm. The proof that she was still the same little urchin from the streets. The wounds in her heart were healing, but part of her was thankful that the wounds on her body never would. She would need them in the months to come.
Because of those wounds, Rose had learned how to be strong, how to take care of those in need and to keep going when she wanted to give up. It was a small sort of comfort to know that those physical reminders would never let her forget. Rose pulled her glove back up and smiled. It was fine that she was different now. Good, even.
A scratch sounded at the door followed by Elizabeth’s head of blond curls peeking inside. “May I come in?”
“Of course,” Rose said with a smile.
The dazzling Elizabeth stepped through the door revealing her cream gown with white satin overlay. She walked to Rose and touched the sleeve of Rose’s gown. “Carver was right, gold brings out your eyes.”
Rose ignored the blush she felt creeping up her neck at the thought of Carver describing her eyes. “Elizabeth, I can’t thank you enough for this dress. It’s lovely.”
Elizabeth waved a hand and crossed to her side. “It looks much better on you than it would have looked on me.”
Rose’s brows tucked together and apprehension broke over her. “Do you mean this was a new dress of yours?” She had assumed it was a dress that Elizabeth had worn before and no longer needed. If Rose had known the dress had never been worn, she never would have accepted it.