“Can I see him for just a few moments, Mama? Ten minutes? You can chaperone.”
“I’m sorry, dear, but remember what you promised Geoffrey,” Mrs. Brookhouse told Rosy. “No visits from Lord Winston until after your début. And I am not going behind his back to allow it.”
Rosy nodded glumly. “No one ever goes behind Almighty Geoffrey’s back.”
Now Diana was dying of curiosity to know exactly how Winston and Rosy had managed to meet.
“Besides,” her mother said, “you wish to look your best when you see him again, don’t you?”
Rosy’s brow furrowed. “What if he doesn’t come back?”
“He will, I’m sure. This is his second visit, so he’s obviously interested. And if he’s not, you don’t need him, do you? Now, why don’t you go with Lady Diana and have her take a look at your closet while I introduce Lady Verity to our cook?”
“All right,” Rosy said, watching as Mrs. Brookhouse and Verity walked off, with Verity clutching sheafs of recipes.
Soliciting the help of a footman, Eliza hurried away to survey the Grenwood ballroom before she was needed to help assess Rosy’s closet . . . and her lady’s maid. They’d long ago put Eliza in charge of coiffures because she was so good with hair. She always evaluated the lady’s maids of their clients in that respect.
Meanwhile, Diana and Rosy headed down the hall toward the stairs leading up to the young woman’s bedchamber. Diana slanted a glance at her. “So, you know Lord Winston, do you?”
Rosy nodded. “I met him at the musicale. He saw me sitting in the corner, asked our hostess to introduce us, and then asked me to dance. But I couldn’t do it, not in front of all those people. So Lord Winston sat with me instead, and we talked about books and music and everything. He was wonderful.” A dreamy expression crossed her face.
Diana suppressed a snort. Winston often inspired that look in ladies. He had a way with women, to be sure. A novice at courting like Rosy wouldn’t have stood a chance.
“I’ve never met a man so intelligent,” Rosy went on, “other than Geoffrey and Papa, of course. Besides that, Lord Winston paid me a visit the very next day. Do you know him? He’s very handsome.”
He certainly was. That was the problem with a man like Winston. He never had to fish for women. Women leaped into his boat. Which begged the question—why was her cousin throwing his fishing line into the pond for Rosy? “Your brother disapproves of him?”
“Geoffrey says he asked around town and discovered that Lord Winston is a fortune hunter and a seducer of women.” Rosy hurried to the stairs. “But the truth is, Geoffrey just doesn’t like anyone with a title. It’s on account of Papa, you know. Papa fell in love with Mama despite her being an ironmaster’s daughter, and even though he married her, he . . . Anyway, you don’t want to hear all that.”
Oh, yes, Diana wanted to hear every word. But she shouldn’t want it. She already had an unwise fascination with His Grace.
But in this particular case, she shared his concern for his sister. “Well, I will only caution you that Lord Winston does have a reputation as a rakehell. But I’ve never heard a word about his being a fortune hunter.”
That seemed to make Rosy very happy. Diana and her sisters would have to work hard to get Rosy other suitors now that they knew of her infatuation with Winston. Perhaps Diana shouldn’t have told Rosy that last part without first consulting with the duke.
She strode stiffly up the stairs behind Rosy. What was she thinking? The poor young woman deserved to find her own way in society and not be bullied by her brother. Indeed, that was something else Diana wanted to know about Rosy and Grenwood.
When they reached the top of the stairs, Diana paused to get Rosy’s attention before they entered her room and found themselves surrounded by other people. “Does your brother dictate to you all the time?”
“No! Well, not really.” Rosy wrapped her arms about her waist. “Only about things he deems important.”
“Like your début.”
“Not the début so much as his insistence that I find a husband.”
“I have no brothers, but my understanding from people who do is that all brothers want their sisters to marry. Some because they want their sisters to be happy, and they think marriage is the only state in which a woman can be happy. Others because they don’t want to have to support their sisters for the rest of their lives.” Diana forced a smile. “Which one is the duke?”
“Neither really. He didn’t start talking about the importance of me marrying until after Papa died. Before then, he’d never mentioned it or even tried to find men to court me.”
“How old were you then?”
“Eighteen.”
“Your father’s death probably made your brother realize you’d reached the age for a début. And then inheriting a dukedom made him even more aware of it.”
“Perhaps.”
Clearly, Rosy was skeptical, but Diana was nearly certain she was right. “So, is the duke forcing you into this début?”