Page 20 of A Duke for Stealing (The Devil’s Masquerade #4)
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“ I s there a reason you had me come all the way out here?” Betty asked as Rose met her in the foyer.
It had been a few weeks since Rose’s marriage to Everett took place, and although Rose had heard of what her mother had been doing, she had not seen her since. Figuring it was high time that they had a visit, Rose had sent the Countess of Lightholder an invitation to come to Stapleton.
She had expected many things from her mother, but annoyance that her own daughter was not one of them. Rose sighed, trying not to be disappointed by her mother’s words of greeting. There was no, oh, how I missed you! No, my lovely home! Just why am I here?
“It is not that long a ride, Mama,” Rose replied, leaning forward to kiss her mother’s cheeks.
As usual, she caught the scent of spirits wafting from her, and Rose started to doubt her plan.
“And I wanted you to see my new home. It is, will you be visiting me in the future, and I believe it would be good for you to become acclimated to it.”
Betty ignored Rose’s words regarding her new home and only focused on the carriage ride.
“It is far enough in this heat,” Betty complained, but relinquished a quick kiss on her daughter’s cheek before beginning to pout. “And now I am woefully thirsty. Where are your staff? Have someone fetch me a wine, darling, I am positively parched.”
Rose beckoned forth a servant and quickly bid them to open a bottle of red and have it delivered to the sitting room.
“What an atrociously large space,” Betty complained, looking around the foyer, “And how utterly plain!”
“It is no larger than our country home, Mama,” Rose pointed out, “And I do not believe it is plain. I believe it is well-kept. I enjoy the cleanliness of it.”
And she did. The paintings were artfully spaced and centered. The tables were few and clean of surface, save for the vases of fresh flowers. There was no overabundance of knick-knacks or stuffy, unusable furniture like the London Lightholder house. Everything in Stapleton had its place.
Betty made a face as she shrugged her shoulders, then took Rose’s arm.
“So tell me, child,” Betty urged as Rose led her to the sitting room, “Why on earth am I here? Are you not supposed to be in London for the week starting tomorrow?”
Worry filled Rose at her Mother's questions. She had just stated not a moment ago the reason for her invitation. Rose wondered then how badly her mother’s heavy drinking was starting to affect her memory; if a thing could affect a person’s memory.
Not wanting to cause an argument regarding her mother’s drinking, however, Rose chose a different tactic.
“Yes, Mama, that is true, but as I said earlier, you have yet to visit me, and I wanted to show you my new home,” Rose explained. As well as get to the bottom of some rumors, she thought to herself.
The stories she’d heard from her friends were still churning wildly in her head, and Rose wanted some clarity, if anything, to be able to prepare herself for her upcoming reintegration into the ton.
She also desperately wanted something else to think about other than Everett and the way he’d left her the night before.
He’d given her so much pleasure, so much attention. He’d even been uncharacteristically sweet by carrying her to her room- and then he just… left. Leaving her with a head full of doubts and a body full of renewed tension.
She wanted to be angry at him. She had wanted to believe that this was just who Everett was, but now she was starting to doubt that.
She was starting to catch glimpses of a different side of Everett.
One, very few, if anyone, had ever seen before.
Was it possible that beneath his flirtatious, confident exterior, there was a person who felt just as lost as she did?
Someone in need of being taken care of the way she did?
And if so, could they possibly give that care to one another?
“Well, it is a lovely, if not overly pompous house, I suppose,” Betty mused as she took a seat in the sitting room, “But I would expect no less from a Duke’s estate. However, I do expect better service. Where is that wine? Did your maid run off to the vineyard to harvest the grapes?”
Rose pushed her thoughts of Everett away and turned, ready to track down the maid she sent for it. She was relieved to see her walking in with a tray topped with a bottle of open red wine and two glasses. To her surprise, though, Diana and Leah came walking in behind the maid.
“Lady Rose! There you are,” Diana said happily, “We were looking for you.”
“See, I told you if we followed the maid we’d find her,” Leah stated, then looked from her sister to Betty.
Rose immediately noticed how Leah stiffened and pulled her sister closer.
“Who is this?” She asked Rose.
“Leah, Diana, this is my mother, Lady Lightholder,” Rose explained, forcing a smile. “Do be polite and say hello, girls.”
To Rose’s relief, both girls curtseyed and said their hellos in adorable unison. Betty, however, was not as polite.
“Who are these girls? When did you have children?” Betty asked, pouring herself a full glass of wine. “Oh, God in heaven, they are not your husband’s daughters, are they?”
Rose frowned. Her mother had barely given the girls a look! Instead, she was too focused on the wine before her.
“Mama, you know I did not have children, and no, Everett does not have any either!”
Rose sighed, already feeling exhausted with the visit, and did her best to reach for patience. “This is Leah and Diana. They are my husband’s nieces.”
After swallowing over half of her glass of wine, Betty finally turned he attention to the girls and gave them a lopsided smile.
“Well, are you two not as pretty as flowers.” she praised, already lifting her glass to her lips once again. “Be careful who you allow around them, Rose, or some gentleman may want to pluck their petals early.”
Rose blanched at her mother’s words.
“What does that mean, Lady Rose?” Diana asked curiously.
“Nothing,” Rose quickly replied, then whirled to face the girls, trying her best to give them a warm smile. “Lady Lightholder only means that you are precious.”
“Is something the matter with her?” Leah whispered, eyeing up Betty. “She seems quite thirsty.”
Rose turned back to her mother and saw her pouring yet another full glass of wine.
“She is fine,” she assured the twins. “Just a little warm. In fact, I am sure you girls are too. Why do you not find your nurse and tell her I gave my blessing for you to play in the fountain outside?”
Both girls’ eyes lit up instantly.
“Truly?” Leah asked, bouncing on her feet.
“Why not? Just be careful, no rough play, and when your nurse says it is time to get out, you must obey. Are we in accord?”
“Yes!” The girls shouted in unison.
They both gave a quick curtsey toward Betty, who simply raised her nearly empty glass toward them and hastily left the room.
“Mama,” Rose scolded, turning back to face her mother, “That was most inappropriate! How could you say such a thing!?”
“Oh, calm yourself, girl,” Betty replied, waving a careless hand through the air, “It is not as if they understood. But you certainly should. You need to be careful of the younger beauties. You do not want to be replaced by them.”
Rose ignored the undertone of her mother’s words, not wanting to get distracted any further.
“Speaking of younger beauties,” Rose said, taking a seat across from her mother, “I have heard some unsavory gossip of you in particular finding one.”
Betty shrugged as she emptied the bottle of wine into her glass, refilling it for the third time in less than ten minutes.
“I do not know what you are referring to,” she replied.
“I believe you do,” Rose replied readily. “It is one thing to take a- a- friend who is of your same age. But it is being said that your new caller is vastly younger than you. Nearly a child!”
“Oh, he is not a child,” Betty groaned, rolling her eyes. “He is nearly twenty. Plenty old enough to understand what he is doing.”
Rose’s mouth dropped open as her hand flew to her throat.
“He is…he is younger than I?” She asked.
“Enough,” Betty snapped. “I am your mother, not the other way around!”
“But Mama, you must know how poorly this will-”
“I said that is enough,” Betty insisted, glaring at Rose.
“You have your own life to worry about now. You are a Duchess. You are finally a wife! You should be focusing on having children of your own, so those little brats you introduced me to do not inherit all of this once your husband passes,” Betty criticized, her words starting to slur.
Rose winced at Betty’s harshness and decided to give up on her attempt at talking some reason into her.
“I think that is enough wine, Mama,” Rose said, taking the nearly empty glass from Betty.
“Fine,” Betty scoffed, rising from her chair. “I want to go home anyway.”
“I am just stating the facts,” Tristan said, then hopped back from Everett’s swing. “Perhaps you should spend more time with Rose.”
For the first time in ages, Everett joined his friends at the boxing club sober enough to go a few rounds.
He was woefully out of practice, and thus far, Hugo, Dominic, and Alistair had been willing to help him regain some form.
Tristan, however, was not as helpful. As if his strange mood and confusing thoughts surrounding Rose were not enough, Tristan’s words startled Everett, and it slowed him down enough to get clipped by Tristan’s fist on his right shoulder.
“What are you going on about?” Everett asked, quickly taking his stance again.
His friends had no idea. None at all that every spare thought, every spare moment, was starting to gravitate toward Rose. It was as if an obsession had taken over him, and he couldn’t stop himself. Even if part of him wanted to.