Red Rose

His eyes narrowed. "Explain, please," he ordered.

"I fell from a horse when I was five years old and broke my leg," she explained. "The physician who attended me set it poorly. When I recovered, it was to find that the injured leg was shorter than the other."

He stared at her blankly. "The doctor must have been drunk," he said.

"I have been told that he was," she replied calmly.

"Sit down, ma'am," Raymore said, the pianoforte forgotten. The only thought in his head was that he had been cheated. No one had ever hinted to him that one of his wards was a cripple. How was he ever to find her a husband? He would be forced to support her for the rest of his life, a permanent millstone around his neck. To say that the girl limped was to put the matter kindly.

The earl did not seat himself again. He made his excuses, bowed with stiff formality, and left the room.

Sylvia followed Rosalind upstairs a short while later. "Is my cousin not quite gorgeous, Ros?" she bubbled as they climbed the staircase together, Rosalind holding on to the rail. 1

"Quite devastatingly handsome," she agreed dryly.

Sylvia giggled. "Is it permitted to marry one's guardian, I wonder?" she said, opening the door into her cousin's room and following her inside.

"I imagine there is no law against it," Rosalind replied, "but he is your cousin, 'Sylvie."

Sylvia clasped her hands and smiled broadly. "But he not yours," she pointed out.' "You must set your cap at him, Ros. The Countess of Raymore!"

Rosalind smiled and sat on the bed. "If I had your looks, I might be tempted," she said with a lightness she did not feel, "but I think I shall settle for being an old maid. She held up a hand when her cousin made a face and would have spoken. "Besides," she added, "I don't like him, Sylvie."

"Why ever not?" that young lady replied. "I thought him excessively polite, Ros, and he did not insult you when he saw you limp. I thought him quite kind when he told you to sit down instead of making you walk quite across the room to the pianoforte."

"Did you not notice his eyes, Sylvie?" Rosalind asked. They are cold and unfeeling. And his mouth sneers. I felt that the man holds us in the utmost contempt. The we see of him, the happier I shall be."

"Pooh," Sylvia protested, "you are imagining things just because you were embarrassed to have him see you walk."

Rosalind shook her head. "You must go and dress," she said, changing the subject. "I somehow feel sure that his lordship would not take kindly to our being late for di

Rosalind did not follow her own advice well. She changed rapidly enough into a blue silk gown that fit as loosely as her day dresses. But her hair gave her trouble. She pi

And now, in one day, just when she needed him the most, he had been destroyed. By what unca

She hated him. Perhaps that was unfair. He had, as Sylvia said, acted with politeness. He had said and done nothing discourteous or unkind. Even when he had noticed and questioned her limp, he had not said anything to disclose disgust. But because he resembled Alistair so closely, she was unusually sensitive to the hard core of dislike that she was quite sure he felt for both of them. And he had no reason to feel that way. He did not know them. They had not imposed their presence on him. He had summoned them. Yes, she hated him.

Tomorrow she would go to him and ask to be sent back home. He surely would not refuse. He was a physically perfect man and he obviously cultivated beauty around him. His house was furnished with tasteful objects and priceless works of art. He was known for the first-class musical talent that he engaged yearly to entertain his friends. He must agree that she could merely be an embarrassment to him. She must convince him that she would never impose upon him in the future. He could forget her very existence.

He had been right about the doctor, though. He had been drunk, just like everyone else who had gathered on her father's estate for the hunt. The hunt was an a

On that particular occasion, Rosalind's father had insisted that she ride, although she was far too young to join the hunt. He had urged her, laughing, toward a fence higher than any she had jumped before. She could almost remember the sound of her own laughter as she had spurred her pony toward it. She could not remember anything else except the tedium of days and weeks spent in the house and, later, the garden, while her leg healed beneath the splints.

Everyone had laughed and teased her when the splints were first removed and she had limped and hopped excitedly around the house. But Rosalind could remember her father's towering rage when it became obvious that the limp was involuntary and when someone-her mother?-had measured her legs. She was not now sure if her father really had gone and horsewhipped the doctor, or if she had just made up that detail to satisfy her child's imagination.

But her father had insisted, cruelly almost, that she overcome her terror of climbing back into the saddle again. Only later, after his death, would she thank him for his foresight.

"We will make of you the finest horsewoman in the damned county, my little Rosalinda," he had promised, "and everyone will see you as a creature of grace and beauty." He had fingered a shiny lock of black hair lovingly as his gaze strayed to his wife.

They had both died of the typhoid a year later while visiting her mother's relatives in Italy. Rosalind had not suffered outwardly. She had never seen a great deal of her parents. But inwardly something had been lost. The first of her dreams had died.

And now a second, she thought grimly, picking up her brush again and tackling her mane of black hair once more.

The Earl of Raymore was also not making any great effort to get ready for di

He had a problem, there was no doubt about it. The cousin was all right, at least. She was lovely and appeared not to be unduly shy. Raymore had not taken too much notice of what she had to say during the few minutes he had sat talking to her, but he was sure that she would take well. She would probably have a large following of eager bucks within a few days of next week's ball. All that would be required of him would be to choose the most eligible without delay.