Page 58 of Trapped with the Beastly Duke

Alexander searched his memory. “I believe it was roses. White roses.”

Rose flushed. “Oh.”

“You do not care for roses?” Alexander realized that his wife had not actually planted any roses in the gardens at Emberly that had not already been there.

“When you are named after a flower, it seems most vain to admit that you like them above all else.” Rose looked away, her cheeks endearingly red.

“I do not think it is vain, especially when one’s namesake is so beautiful.” Alexander smiled. “They are your favorite, then?”

Rose nodded. “And yet I cannot bring myself to plant them. I just… The thought of asking someone to buy me roses for the garden, it feels so vain. I do not think I could cope with embarrassment.”

“Well, I am sure you will think of something equally lovely.” Alexander tried to keep his smile to himself as he met Olivia’s gaze across the table.

He could tell that she was thinking the same thing—that they should get roses and give them to Rose so that she might plant them without fear of appearing vain.

“Excuse me.” The voice brought Alexander back to the present, and he realized that an elderly gentleman was trying to move past him.

Hastily, he stepped out of the man’s way. He glanced around, wondering where the shopkeeper had disappeared.

I do not want to be late for the ball.

As he searched for the man, he glanced at a figure passing by the shop window.

A sense of unease washed over him, though he could not say why. When he looked back, the figure was gone. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. He felt as though he were being watched.

“Your Grace, my most humble apologies. I hope I have not kept you waiting long.” The thin voice of the shopkeeper reminded Alexander of the reason for his visit. “You said you required roses?”

“Yes. I would like a bouquet of roses, and also to arrange the delivery of some plants to my estate.” Alexander’s mind was stillon the figure he had glimpsed. He thought it seemed familiar.“Rose bushes, to be specific.”

“You have a passion for the flower, Your Grace?” The shopkeeper was making notes.

“They are my wife’s favorite,” Alexander replied distractedly, still feeling as if someone were watching him.

“Your wife has excellent taste.” The shopkeeper nodded.

Alexander was distracted as he paid the man and left the shop. The same uneasy feeling still swept over him.

Where have I seen that face?

He glanced around the street, trying to see if the figure was still there. But there was no one.

It hit him like a bolt of lightning. Dark hair, one green eye and one brown, thin lips. The man who killed his father.And he had let the man escape.

You cursed fool. You just let him walk away while you ordered flowers.

He searched up and down the street, but as tall as he was, the crowds made it hard to distinguish any one person.

He is probably long since gone.

Once more, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

Ahead, he saw his coach waiting for him. He shook his head, as if trying to clear it. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw someone watching him, but when he turned around, he saw nothing out of the ordinary.

I am being paranoid.

If anyone was watching him, it was simply because he was tall. He stood out everywhere he went—of course, he drew attention.

Although a crowded place would make it easy to stick a knife between someone’s ribs. God, what a maudlin thought.