Red Rose

"Elise will be delighted," Sir Henry assured his friend. "I took her to the opera last evening and I have driven with her in the park two or three afternoons, but she is unable to enter into too many activities. She will not hear of hiring a wet-nurse, you see, and consequently can leave the baby only for a few hours at a time."

"I admire her dedication," Raymore, said, maneuvering his curricle around a phaeton whose wheel had become hopelessly sunk in a muddy rut. "Many women would be all too ready to give up the care of their child to a mere servant."

Sir Henry Martel shot his friend an amused glance. "What, Edward?" he said. "Do you actually have something favorable to say about a female?"

Raymore looked mystified. "I have always respected your wife, Henry," he said.

The evening was a pleasant one. Raymore found himself almost envious of the quiet domesticity of his friends. They were not ostentatious in their love of each other, but there was an obvious affection between them and, more important, they shared a friendship. It was strange, he thought, that he had never noticed these things. Although he had always treated Lady Martel with courtesy, he had constantly pitied his friend for being leg-shackled. He had never been able to see that there could be any real happiness in marriage. Of course, it was different for him. He could never hope for such contentment. For some reason, he could not inspire any woman with deep and lasting love and loyalty. It was probably just as well that way. He was not at all sure that he could risk entrusting all his happiness to one woman.

He left before he felt he could have outstayed his welcome. He could not go home. She would surely be there by now and he would be obliged to go to the drawing room to greet her and converse for a while. It was impossible. He did not feel like going to one of his clubs. Neither cards nor drink appealed to him tonight. He finally went to the theater, although he knew he would have missed at least the first two acts. Elise had told him that there was an impressive new actress playing Ophelia. Raymore was impressed, too. He wandered backstage at the end of the performance and easily attracted her attention away from other would-be admirers congregated in the green room. As he left her bed and her room in the early hours of the morning, he reflected that such a relationship was far superior to the one he had been thinking of for the last few days. This way he could walk away perfectly satisfied without putting any part of his real self at risk.

The following day Raymore had to be at home during the afternoon to greet Dr. Hans Dehnert, who wished to try out the earl's musical instruments. It was important to him, he said, to use the actual pianoforte he was to play and in the actual room in which he was to perform. Only four days remained until the concert.

Raymore came face to face with the ladies as he entered the house and they were leaving the dining room after luncheon. He removed his hat and bowed to them, keeping his eyes on Hetty. "Hans Dehnert will be here this afternoon," he told her. "You need not concern yourselves, though. I shall have him shown directly to the music room. I believe he will want use of the room for the next three afternoons."

"Oh, how I look forward to hearing him," Rosalind said warmly. "Maybe it is a good thing that Bernard is coming this afternoon to take me to Kew Gardens. Otherwise I might be tempted to seek out that anteroom you told me of, my lord."

He shot her a brief glance. She caught a flash of amusement in it, but he did not hold the look. He seemed strangely uneasy, she thought. He was soon striding to the staircase and mounting the stairs two at a time.

The afternoon at Kew was not a success, though Rosalind was hard put to it afterward to explain to herself exactly what was wrong. She had been delighted at the prospect of escaping from the house and the constant threat of coming face to face with her guardian. She had dressed very carefully, choosing a new dress of bronze muslin and matching parasol, and a chip-straw bo

Sir Bernard teased her about the concert that she would be forced to attend. "Now I know why your cousin married in such haste," he said, gri

She smiled back at him. "Ah, but you see," she said, "I would not miss the evening for worlds, so you have been made to wait, sir."

"Even when the entertainment has been arranged by your tyrant of a guardian?" he goaded.

Her smile faded. "But I ca

They drove in silence for a while until Sir Bernard turned to her again with determined cheerfulness and began to talk on one of his favorite topics: the places he pla

"Oh, shall we be able to see the art treasures at Versailles and the Louvre?" she asked with enthusiasm when he mentioned Paris.

He smiled indulgently. "If you wish, my love," he agreed. "I was pla

"So that everyone might notice me limp along?" she asked with a smile.

He frowned. She asked if they might go to Florence when they reached Italy. There were so many art treasures there that she had dreamed all her life of seeing for herself.

Sir Bernard chuckled. "Am I to have a bluestocking for a wife?" he asked. "I had thought to head for Venice, where we might ride in a gondola and I might fill your head with romance."

"That would be lovely," she agreed. "And St. Mark's is in Venice. Will we see it, Bernard?"

He sighed with mock exasperation. "Do you know, Rosalind," he said, "I believe I should deputize Raymore to take you on this wedding trip in my place. You and he would lap up all the dry dust of Europe and believe that you had shared a feast. But you may see any place you wish by day, my love, provided that your nights belong to me." He leaned toward her with a wicked leer on his face and tried to kiss her.

Rosalind slapped his wrist with her closed parasol and laughed. "Sometimes I think you are no gentleman, sir," she said with mock severity. But his words had given her a sickening jolt. The very idea of being on a wedding trip with Raymore! The thought made the bottom want to a fall out of her stomach.

Sir Bernard would not come into the house on Grosvenor Square with her, claiming that he had some business to attend to before di

She talked briefly with Cousin Hetty in the drawing room, then excused herself by saying that she needed to rest before di