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Amelia gathered her thoughts and realized there was scant information she could provide since her life had been unexceptional. At least until she was offered as a wager, then got up the nerve to escape her stepbrother and climb a tree.

“Why don’t you start with why neither of us recognize your name?” Dante took the lead in questioning which immediately put her on edge. “We are familiar with almost all of London. Our patrons come from the nobility, the upper merchant class and the newly arrived American wealthy. Yet, Pence isn’t a name we’ve heard before.”

“I have spent most of my life in the country.” She was going to tell the truth as much as she could without them learning who her brother was. Her governess from years ago had been adamant that it was far easier to keep one’s story straight if it did not contain lies.

Driscoll nodded, seeming pleased that she at least answered one of their questions. “What brought you to London? Did you come for the purpose of joining Society and making your come-out?”

Amelia tried very hard not to laugh. A come-out? Should she tell these nice men her only come-out would be a forced introduction into the demimonde?

“No.” She could not tell them she’d been ordered by her stepbrother to vacate the lovely family home in the country that she’d lived in most of her life because he’d rented it out from under her. Had she known at the time about his evil plans for her, she would have attempted to secure a position as a companion or a governess. Even working in a shop would be preferable to what her future currently looked like.

“I don’t suppose you wish to tell us where you are currently living in London?” Driscoll leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. He was so very nice and comfortable. Just speaking to him made her feel as though nothing bad would happen to her.

Then she realized she was dreaming, and this man was in no way responsible for her well-being. For all she knew he had a wife and several children for whom he was currently caring.

She found that to be a depressing thought.

Besides, she’d stopped believing in fairy tales when she was a child. There was no knight in shining armor going to ride up to The Rose Room and sweep her away on his white horse to live happily ever after in his castle.

She shook her head. “No. I’m afraid I cannot.”

The brothers looked at each other, Dante Rose with raised brows and Driscoll with what only could be described as sympathy.

Unfortunately, that was her undoing. All the pent-up anger and fear she’d lived with since she had snuck out of her stepbrother’s house rose to the surface and decided to make its presence known in a torrent of tears.

“Aw, shite,” Dante said.

4

Driscoll looked frantically at his brother when Miss Pence covered her eyes and began to cry. Hell, wail was more like it.

“What should we do?” he asked Dante.

Dante shrugged. “Nothing. Let her cry it out. With your lack of knowledge and skill with the ladies, you haven’t learned that these fits come on once in a while. Mostly when they want something, and you’ve said ‘no’.”

“That seems a rather cruel assessment.”

“But true. If you’re disposed to do so, you can put your arm around her shoulders and pat her back a few times.”

“And that seems rather personal.”

Dante rolled his eyes. “Then hand her a handkerchief. Women never seem to have one on them when these fits come on.”

“I’d hardly call it a fit. I think she is very distressed.”

Dante nodded in her direction. “Clearly.”

Miss Pence lowered her hands and glared at them. “I am right here, you know. I can hear everything you’re saying.” She wiped her cheeks and accepted the handkerchief Driscoll handed her.

She used it to blow her nose. “I will wash this and return it.”

Driscoll waved his hand in dismissal. “No matter. I have dozens of them.”

She took a deep breath. “I apologize for my unacceptable behavior.”

Driscoll leaned over and patted her hand. “That is all right. No need to apologize.” He glanced at Dante, who was obviously enjoying the show. Sometimes he felt the need to plant a facer on his brother.

Now was one of those times.


Tags: Callie Hutton The Rose Room Rogues Historical