Chapter Fifteen
It is most puzzling and profoundly disquieting, Fanny. The duke is now romancing me instead of trying to seduce me, which makes him even more irresistible.
—Roslyn to Fanny
When he arrived at his London mansion, Drew unexpectedly found Eleanor waiting on his doorstep…or more specifically, sitting in her jaunty little phaeton on the street out in front. As soon as he descended from his carriage, Eleanor tossed the reins to her groom and leapt down to follow Drew up the front steps.
He knew there was no point in scolding her for entering a bachelor’s establishment without her maid in attendance. As Marcus’s irrepressible younger sister, Eleanor had run tame in his house since she was a very small girl.
“To what do I owe this honor, minx?” Drew asked, allowing her to precede him into the hall.
“I need an escort to ride with me in the park this afternoon, Drew. Marcus is still away on his wedding trip, and it seems Heath had sudden business in Hampshire, of all places.”
Drew remained silent as he led the way to his study where he usually entertained his closest friends, although he wondered at the reason for Heath’s sudden visit to Hampshire.
“So will you accompany me on a ride, Drew?” Eleanor entreated.
He narrowed his gaze on her. Eleanor was a significant heiress who boasted both remarkable beauty and a lively, engaging personality, so she had no shortage of gentlemen who could take her riding. “Why me? You have a dozen beaux who can escort you.”
“But I am weary of them all, and I want you. I sent you a message this morning, but you didn’t reply, so I came in person to persuade you. I knew you couldn’t resist a personal plea.”
Settling in a comfortable leather couch, Drew smiled suspiciously at her. “Why don’t I believe you? Coercing me into acting your escort isn’t the only reason you called, is it?”
Eleanor dimpled impishly at him as she sank into her favorite chair. “Well, actually…I wondered how your betrothal is proceeding. Everyone is quizzing me about it—indeed, all London is talking about it, although the amazement is somewhat lessened since Marcus already wed the eldest Loring sister. But I’ve had no chance to discuss it with you since I heard the news. You were away from home the past two days visiting your mother, and there was no opportunity for a private word last night at Lady Freemantle’s dinner.”
His smile ebbed a little. “You know I don’t discuss my personal affairs with anyone.”
“Except Marcus and Heath, and they are both away. I am offering myself as their surrogate.” When he didn’t reply, Eleanor studied him. “I was quite astonished that you proposed to Roslyn, particularly since you were railing against the abruptness of Marcus’s marriage barely a fortnight ago. Do you truly want to wed her? Have you developed a tendre for her, Drew?”
He kept his expression bland. “My feelings for her are private, minx. I won’t share them with anyone, not even you.”
“Perhaps you should. I expect I could help you.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“Come now, Drew…I have already begun. I sang your praises to Roslyn last night quite fulsomely. But now I feel the need to offer you some sisterly advice.”
As the humor of Eleanor’s offer struck him, Drew shook his head wryly. “There are too many matchmakers overseeing our courtship as it is. Besides, you are hardly one to advise me on my betrothal. You’ve had two broken engagements since your comeout, and you are responsible for both.”
“But I broke those for good reason. And I think that makes me something of an expert on betrothals. You really should learn from my experience.”
“Just what do you think I can I learn from you, minx?”
“I’m sure there is something. If nothing else, I can tell you how Roslyn might think. I am a woman, so I can give you a woman’s perspective.”
She did have a point, Drew mused. Only a short while ago, he’d concluded that his courtship of Roslyn wasn’t working and that he would have to try and win her heart if he wanted her to go through with marriage to him.
Leaning back, he crossed his arms over his chest. “So tell me how I can make her fall in love with me.”
Eleanor’s eyes widened. “I thought you didn’t believe in love.”
“I don’t. But Roslyn does. And she doesn’t want to marry unless it’s a love match. Our betrothal will allow me time to court her formally, but I need to do more than that.”
“How does she feel about you, Drew? She doesn’t appear to be in love with you yet, or at least she didn’t seem eager to set a date for the wedding.”
“She isn’t. I suspect she will be happy for any excuse to call off the engagement.”
“Do you think you could ever love her?” Eleanor asked curiously.
That wasn’t a question he could answer, since he wasn’t certain he was even capable of love. “I don’t know,” he replied finally.
“Hmm,” Eleanor murmured, her countenance thoughtful. “So why do you suppose she doesn’t love you yet?”
“I don’t know the answer to that, either.”
“I expect it’s because you treat her like one of your highflyers.”
That was precisely what he’d done, Drew admitted. His relationship with Roslyn had begun when he’d mistaken her for a Cyprian, and all his tutoring had been designed to teach her how to become an even better one.
Seeing his arrested expression, Eleanor crowed softly. “I am right. You have been trying to seduce her instead of court her.”
Drew frowned. “What if I have?”
“Well, it makes all the difference. If you seriously want to woo her, then you are going about it all the wrong way.”
His mouth pressed together at the irony. It disgruntled him that he had to woo Roslyn at all when he’d never had to trouble himself with wooing any woman before. But he was at least willing to hear what Eleanor had to say on the subject.
“So what is wrong with my wooing?”
“You are focusing on seduction, not romance. The two are not the same thing.”
“Romance?” he echoed. “What the devil are you talking about?”
“Miss Roslyn is not a doxy, Drew. She is a lady with well-bred sensibilities. You cannot rely on physical persuasion to make her love you.”
“I realize that.”
“So you need to romance her.”
His expression turned exasperated. “Very well, how do I romance her?”
“First of all, you must think of her as a person, not a possession or a prize to be won. Not a business transaction, either.”
“I think of her as a person.”
Eleanor looked skeptical. “Do you?”
When Drew didn’t reply, she went on. “You need to be honest with her as well. Honesty shows that you respect her. Along those same lines, you have to at least pretend you are not interested in any other women but her. You can’t keep a mistress while you are courting her.”
“I haven’t had a mistress for months.”
“Good. Then remain that way. I would imagine that after Roslyn’s experiences, fidelity is very important to her—just as it is to me.” Eleanor frowned darkly for a moment before continuing. “Listen to what she has to say.”
“I do listen.”
“But do you really hear what she says?”
Just today Roslyn had accused him of not hearing her, of not taking her complaint to heart. “What else?” Drew asked.
“You should ask about her dreams.”
He already knew about Roslyn’s dreams—and they didn’t include falling in love with him and wedding him. Rather they were all about falling in love with and marrying her neighbor.
“What else?” he repeated.
“Well, you could shower her with kindness. Small, thoughtful acts. It needn’t be elaborate. The simplest things are often the most romantic.”
“Such as?”
“Stroll with her in a meadow and pick a wildflower for her. She will appreciate a violet more than a hothouse rose. Take her for a drive, just the two of you.”
“I already have,” Drew said wryly. “We were caught in a ferocious thunderstorm.”
“Try something else, then. In romance, it is the tender moments that count most.”
“That isn’t the advice Fanny Irwin gave her.”
Eleanor looked at him in surprise. “I doubt Fanny knows much about romance, since she must earn her living pleasing her patrons.” She looked at him earnestly. “That is what I mean, Drew. You need to learn how to please Roslyn, but not in a physical way. In fact, I think you should have no physical contact whatsoever. Most assuredly you shouldn’t kiss her. Not even her hand. She will see the change in you at once.”
“You want me to ignore her?”
“Not ignore. Just don’t use your sensual powers to pursue her. It will confuse her if nothing else. She will start to wonder if you intend to make any advances toward her ever again—and she will start to long for it.”
“What about gifts?”
Eleanor pursed her lips. “I expect that to someone like Roslyn, the small intimacies mean more than the most extravagant gift. But if you do give her a gift, make certain it has special meaning for her.”
“Jewels don’t work; I’ve tried.”
“I would think not. You can find out what she likes from her friends.”
“I know what she likes. Literature and political treatises.”
“So give her a book,” Eleanor advised. “You have a priceless library collection. I’m sure you can come up with something that would please her, that shows you are thinking of her.” She hesitated. “That is what truly is important, Drew. You have to think more of her than of yourself. Certainly you must be concerned with her welfare. For instance, when you take her to visit your mother, you must do your best to protect her.”
“I intend to.”
“I hope so,” Eleanor said with a shudder. “You know what an icy demeanor and razor-edged tongue the duchess has. If she doesn’t freeze you with her stare, she flays you alive.”
Drew couldn’t help but smile at that description of his illustrious parent.
Eleanor smiled in return. “Actually, I believe it will be good for Roslyn to see you in a different light. It will give you the chance to show her your true self.”
“I’ve shown Roslyn more of myself than any other woman but you—and you aren’t really a woman to me.”
“Thank you very much!” Eleanor said with mock indignation.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes, I know. You see me as a sister. That should work well with Roslyn. And she needs to understand why you don’t readily warm to people. She cannot fall in love with you unless she knows the real you.”
“How did you get to be so wise, minx?”
Eleanor made a face. “Wisdom never did me any good. And I am not so wise. I simply know how I want to be courted.”
“None of your suitors were clever enough to comprehend what you wanted,” Drew remarked.
“Not a one,” she said softly, looking as if her thoughts were a million miles away.
“All right,” he capitulated. “Go order your horse saddled.”
Eleanor seemed to shake herself before offering him an impish smile. “Oh, I didn’t really want to ride with you. I did that this morning. I just came to make certain the course of love was running smoothly for you.”
“You little baggage,” Drew said, laughing. “It’s a wonder Marcus didn’t bind and gag you as soon as you were old enough to let down your skirts.”
“True,” she replied, before she rose and sauntered out the door, leaving Drew chuckling.
But his amusement soon faded as his brow knitted in a thoughtful frown. Eleanor was very likely right. To win Roslyn’s heart, he had to romance her rather than rely on his usual methods of wooing.
Roslyn could not understand the change in Drew when he called on her the next morning. Instead of wicked and knowing, his smile was warm and amiable. Instead of sharp and cynical, his conversation was genuinely companionable. And he didn’t so much as touch her hand.
His visit then was exceedingly brief, too—only long enough to tell her of the arrangements he’d made for their trip to his ducal family seat in Kent the following Monday to meet his mother, the Duchess of Arden. They would stay overnight at Arden Castle and return the next morning.
When Drew suggested that Roslyn take her abigail with them, her brows drew together. “Because your mother will expect it for propriety’s sake?”
“No, because you will be more comfortable traveling with me in my coach. I don’t want you to worry about my trying to seduce you again.”
His consideration took her aback a little, but Roslyn didn’t argue with him, since she would be relieved to have her maid along to act as chaperone and prevent any danger of repeating their shameless passion in his coach.
Nor did she mention her reluctance to make the visit at all. Privately Roslyn thought there was no point in her being presented to his mother for inspection and approval when she didn’t intend to wed Drew, yet she realized they needed to keep up the pretense of their betrothal since it was much too soon to break it off.
To her surprise, she saw nothing more of Drew until the day of the journey. Deplorably, Roslyn found herself missing him. And the thought that he’d given up pursuing her was absurdly disappointing, even though she firmly told herself it would be better if he’d finally come to agree with her view that they wouldn’t suit.
In the interim, Drew wrote to her twice. Once to send her the latest volume of Cobbett’s Parliamentary History, which had only just been published. And once to lend her an extremely rare edition of Francis Bacon’s New Atlantis in the original Latin, which Drew termed merely a loan, since she didn’t like receiving expensive gifts from him.
Roslyn couldn’t help but smile at his gibe, and repaired immediately to the library to immerse herself in studying the precious little tome.
She was foolishly glad to see Drew when Monday came—and gladder still when she settled in his coach across from him, that her abigail, Nan, was there to help her observe the proprieties. Nan was the lady’s maid Marcus had hired to care for the Loring sisters’ new wardrobes and help them dress and arrange their hair. Although a bit young, she came from London and was well versed in her duties as chaperone.
In Nan’s presence, Drew kept up an easy but impersonal conversation with Roslyn. He spoke less as the morning wore on, though, and as they neared his estate, Roslyn was puzzled to note his near silence. She would have asked him about it, but with Nan listening, she had no opportunity.
The only time Drew spoke was when the carriage slowed to pass through an elaborate stone gate.
“My ancestral home,” he said tersely, staring out the window.
The park was immense, Roslyn realized after they had negotiated a winding wooded drive for more than ten minutes. And then she forgot about Drew’s silence when Arden Castle came into view.
The magnificent structure of golden stone sat gleaming on a hill in the distance. Built only two centuries before, it was nothing like a medieval castle, but rather a formal palace fit for royalty—clearly a residence belonging to the extremely wealthy aristocracy.
Roslyn saw Nan’s eyes widen in awe at the sight, and knew her own expression showed a similar admiration.
A half dozen liveried grooms and footmen rushed to meet their arrival and quickly assumed control of their horses, luggage, and servants. Drew led Roslyn up the sweeping stone steps to the enormous entry-way, where they were greeted by a stately butler, then through the majestic house to what he said was the “small” drawing room.
The interior decor was even more splendid than what she’d expected upon seeing the exterior. Every chamber she passed was lavish with brocade and gilt furnishings, gold and crystal chandeliers, and countless paintings, tapestries, and sculptures.
The richness of it all was rather intimidating, Roslyn decided even before she entered a grandiose room occupied by a tall, regal, silver-haired woman.
The duchess rose slowly, her demeanor just as imperious as Roslyn had been warned, and just as daunting. Her pale gray eyes were glacial, and so was the one word she uttered in acknowledgment of her son’s arrival: “Arden.”
“Mother,” Drew responded with equal terseness. His tone was surprisingly bland yet held no warmth, either. The strain between them was palpable, Roslyn realized as he offered his parent a stiff bow and then made the introductions.
Gracefully, but quite deliberately, the duchess raised her lorgnette to one cold gray eye to examine Roslyn.
“Good day, Miss Loring,” the noblewoman remarked superciliously. “I understand that you have ensnared my son.”
Roslyn couldn’t help her amusement at that particular choice of words, but she was careful to keep both her expression and her tone neutral when she replied. “I hardly think ensnare is the proper word, your grace.”
“Then what would you call it?”
Doubting she would ever win the duchess’s approval, even if she prostrated herself at the disdainful noblewoman’s feet, Roslyn smiled coquettishly up at Drew. “I would call it an unexpectedly mutual attraction, your grace.”
When he smiled lazily back at her, the duchess immediately stiffened. “You can hardly expect me to welcome your betrothal, Miss Loring, when you had such infamous parents. Your entire family has been under a cloud of scandal for years.”
“That was indeed true until recently,” Roslyn agreed politely. “But my elder sister married quite respectably.”
“Yes, I know. Lord Danvers has long been an acquaintance of my son’s. Are you accomplished, Miss Loring?”
“Fairly so. I sing and play the pianoforte well. I am proficient at needlepoint and watercolors. I am fluent in French and know a smattering of Italian. Oh, and I read and speak Latin.”
“Latin?” Her tone implied disdain. “Then you have at least one thing in common with Arden.”
“Yes, we can enjoy the same books. I consider that a chief qualification for matrimonial bliss, don’t you, your grace?”
The duchess’s mouth tightened, but Roslyn returned her icy gaze evenly. She fully comprehended the noblewoman’s goal in grilling her. The duchess was trying to intimidate her into calling off the betrothal. But she had no intention of giving her satisfaction by complying.
After a moment, the duchess took another tack. “I understand you also teach at an academy for young ladies. You will of course give that up immediately now that you are betrothed.”
“Regrettably I must disappoint you, your grace. My elder sister plans to continue teaching at our academy, even though she is now a countess, and I intend to do the same if I become a duchess.”
The Duchess of Arden looked angry now. “Do you have any idea, Miss Loring, what obligation you bear if you marry into this family? You have a duty to uphold our consequence.”
“I do indeed,” Roslyn said, keeping her voice light. “After meeting you, your grace, I have an excellent idea of what to expect. But I shall allow your son to be the arbiter of my proper conduct.”
Looking irate and offended, the duchess suddenly turned her attention to Drew, as if dismissing Roslyn from her thoughts altogether. “Your rooms have been prepared, Arden. You may join me in the grand drawing room at half past seven for a glass of sherry. You recall that I keep Town hours and dine at eight.”
“I recall quite clearly, Mother,” Drew said mildly.
“I will expect you to have a word with Mathers. She has been more insolent than usual this week, and she knows I cannot rebuke her.”
“Of course, I will speak with her. I intend to visit her shortly.”
He gave her another brief bow and ushered Roslyn from the room. As they escaped down the corridor, she let out her breath in relief.
Drew looked amused and perhaps a little relieved himself. “You handled that quite well. You more than held your own with the Dragon.”
Roslyn smiled. “She is not so bad, if you like haughty, bloodless sort of people.”
“I don’t,” he said abruptly, curtness returning to his tone. “Come, let me show you the library. I think you will appreciate it.”
“Who is Mathers?” Roslyn asked as he led her to another wing. “And why can’t your mother rebuke her?”
“She was first my nurse, then governess, before I was sent off to Eton.”
“Ah, Eleanor mentioned your old nurse. You brought her here to live at the castle when she became too infirm to care for herself. I take it the duchess doesn’t approve of your generosity?”
Drew grimaced. “No. It is a running battle between us, but so far I have won.”
“How did you manage that?”
“I threatened to make my mother move to the dower house if she couldn’t tolerate living under the same roof as Mathers. But of course she doesn’t want to reside in a place only a tenth the size of this.”
Roslyn laughed softly, and Drew found himself relishing the sweet, musical sound. She seemed to understand his sentiments toward his mother perfectly.
“So what do you think of the Castle?” he asked, pleased that she had emerged unscathed in her verbal parries with the duchess.
“It is very beautiful,” Roslyn said carefully.
“But you don’t like it.”
“It is not particularly…welcoming.”
“You noticed,” Drew said dryly.
“You don’t seem to care for it much.”
“No.”
He’d never liked living here, imprisoned by marble and mahogany. As a home, it was too palatial, too cold, too empty…the coldness due in large part to his mother’s presence, Drew was well aware.
He’d never thought of this as home, either, not since leaving for Eton at age six. And even after inheriting the title, he’d absented himself as much as possible whenever his mother was in residence, only visiting to spend time with his tenants and oversee his home farms, particularly testing and experimenting with the newest agricultural methods.
“Would you like to see the grounds?” Drew asked. “They are much more appealing than the house.”
“Yes, very much.”
“Then I will have mounts saddled for a ride this afternoon.”
“Does your mother reside here most of the year?”
“Except for each Season, which she spends in London. Otherwise she holds court here.”
Roslyn raised an eyebrow. “That must make the Season awkward for you both.”
“Oh, we don’t share the same abode, God forbid. I bought my own town house and gave her the house in Grosvenor Square. She lives her own life, and I live mine. It works much better that way for both of us.”
“I can imagine,” Roslyn murmured. “I begin to see why you don’t want to marry. You worry that your duchess will turn out to resemble your mother.”
Drew shot her a sharp glance before giving her a humorless smile. “How very perceptive you are, darling.”
They had reached the library by now, and Drew stood aside to let her enter. The room dwarfed the one at Danvers Hall, and Roslyn showed proper respect.
“Oh, my,” she said reverently, moving to the nearest shelf to inspect the various titles.
“The collection in my London library is actually much better. And frankly, so is your late step-uncle’s at Danvers Hall. These are only the inferior volumes because I ran out of room at my London house.”
“You call this inferior?” Pulling out a book at random, she opened it. “I can tell that being obscenely wealthy has quite spoiled you.”
He grinned. “Wealth does have its advantages. Now if you will excuse me, sweeting, I want to pay Mathers a visit. She will expect it. I can leave you here or show you to your room so you can change into your riding habit.”
Roslyn looked up from the book. “May I meet her?”
Drew felt surprise, yet he saw no reason to refuse her request. “If you wish. Indeed, she has been eager to meet you since my last visit here when I told her of our betrothal.”
When Roslyn returned her book to the shelf, he led the way upstairs to the fourth-floor servant hall. At the corridor’s end, he knocked softly on a door and opened it when a craggy voice bid entrance.
Immediately his gaze went to the ancient crone who sat in a rocking chair beside the open window, basking in a stream of sunshine as she slowly knitted from a skein of wool yarn. His fondest memories of his early childhood centered around this old woman, and he regretted her pitiful state now—the stooped shoulders, the gnarled hands, the cane resting beside the chair. But it was the cloudy eyes that evidenced her near blindness.
Mathers canted her head, listening intently, then smiled before Drew said a word. “You came.”
“Did you expect anything less?” he asked, shepherding Roslyn into the room.
“Not from you, your grace. But I didn’t know if your bride-to-be would let you out of her sight.”
Drew bent to kiss her age-crinkled cheek and drew Roslyn closer. “Actually my betrothed is here with me. Miss Roslyn Loring, may I introduce you to my former governess, Mrs. Esther Mathers?” Before Roslyn could respond, he added, “Miss Loring asked to meet you, Mathers.”
“Did she?” The old woman sounded pleased.
“Yes, it raised her curiosity when I told her how you bullied and beat me when I was a snip of a boy.”
Mathers gave him a broad, toothless smile. “And did she believe you?”
“You will have to ask her that yourself.”
“So did you, Miss Loring?”
Roslyn laughed. “Truthfully, this is the first I have heard about your cruelty, Mrs. Mathers—but I expect you know that. I am happy to make your acquaintance.”
“And I, you.” She let her knitting needles fall to her lap. “Come here so that I may see you, Miss Loring.”
“Ah, no, Mathers,” Drew intervened. “You cannot treat her the way you do me, with no respect.” He smiled fondly down at her as he murmured to Roslyn, “I am still six years old in her eyes.”
Mathers’s rasping laugh was more like a cackle. “I changed his napkins and taught him his manners. ’Tis hard to think of him as a lord, no matter how grand he has become. So, Miss Loring, I hear that you teach at a young ladies’ academy. That surprises me greatly.”
“Yes, I do, along with my two sisters. Several years ago our finances necessitated that we seek employment, so we opened an academy with the help of a very generous patron.”
“And do you despise teaching?”
“On the contrary, I enjoy it very much. We instruct the daughters of tradesmen and merchants on how to deal with society…develop their polish and refinement so they won’t be quite as disadvantaged if they make genteel marriages.”
Mathers nodded in approval. “I hope your pupils are better behaved than this scamp here was.”
Her blue eyes dancing with amusement, Roslyn glanced at Drew. “Was he a terror when he was a child?”
“Not a terror, just mischievous, as boys will be. But I encouraged it since the duke and duchess…” She shook her head sternly. “Never mind my tongue. It is impolite to speak ill of one’s employers.”
“I would very much like to hear some of your tales of him,” Roslyn said, covering up the awkward moment.
Mathers reached out a shaky hand. “Will you come closer, please? I want to see what manner of woman my lad is marrying, and my old eyes are not what they once were.”
“Yes, of course.”
When Roslyn complied, bending down, Mathers reached up to gently feel her face. Roslyn stood quite still while the bony fingers inspected her, a little to Drew’s surprise.
A look of satisfaction spread over the old governess’s face. “You aren’t some high and mighty lady, are you?”
“How can you tell?” Roslyn said, smiling.
“Besides the fact that you had to earn your own way in the world? You allowed me to touch you. Some proper ladies would be revolted.” She turned her glance toward Drew. “I think she’ll do, your grace.”
“You can determine that on such short acquaintance?” he replied teasingly.
The old woman cackled. “Yes, indeed. I’ll wager it didn’t take you long to determine it, either.”
“Barely a fortnight.”
“She will keep you in line, I have no doubt.”
“I expect so,” Drew said amiably.
“So, do you love him, Miss Loring?”
Looking taken aback by the question, Roslyn hesitated, as if not wanting to lie. “I am very fond of him.”
“’Twill be good if you come to love him. There’s been no love in this house for years, not since he left it when he was a wee child.”
“That will be enough, Mathers,” Drew said quickly. “You don’t want to bore Miss Loring.”
Her cloudy gaze turned toward him. “No, but even if I am boring her, she is kind enough to refrain from mentioning it. That warms my heart, dear boy. Only a special woman will do for you, and I have a feeling that this is a special one.”
He avoided looking at Roslyn as he lightly touched the old woman’s shoulder. “I won’t dispute you, love, but if you will you excuse us, I have promised to take Miss Loring riding.”
“Excellent! ’Tis a beautiful day with summer full upon us. You will like the grounds, I think, Miss Loring.”
“They are indeed magnificent,” Roslyn agreed.
With a final kiss to Mathers’s withered cheek, Drew took Roslyn’s arm to usher her from the room.
Their exchange with his former governess had been discomfiting for him, yet satisfying at the same time. Roslyn’s gentleness with the elderly servant was so different from his mother’s icy contempt. The contrast made him value her warm nature even more—and in some strange way soothed a little of the sexual frustration he’d experienced for the past five days, when he’d been unable to kiss Roslyn or even touch her. Being forced to bide his time had made him restless and irritable, not to mention aching.
But then, abstinence was not his strong suit, Drew acknowledged. Nor was patience. And he had to summon enough of the latter to get through tonight’s dinner with his illustrious mother.
But at least he could enjoy a companionable ride over his lands with Roslyn beforehand. Even so, he was careful to drop her arm as soon as he closed the door behind them, before he succumbed to the fierce temptation to do much, much more than simply savor her company.