Chapter 1
Rose Danvers sat in her father’s library, her feet tucked delicately beneath her and a book in her lap.
The room was full of lavish furniture and rich décor, but the grandeur of the room was lost to Rose in that moment as she wandered pages of brave, independent heroines and the romantic, strong, kind men they loved.
Such stories were her favorites, because she cherished the idea of spending the rest of a person’s days with the loves of their lives.
Rose was so engrossed that she did not hear the door creak open or the footsteps approach her. She was unaware that she was no longer alone in the room at all until she felt warm breath on face. As a pair of lips touched her cheek, she started a bit.
A deep, hearty chuckle followed the gentle kiss.
“Forgive me, my dear,” the Earl of Roxbough said, stroking her hair.
“Father,” Rose said, putting her book to the side and rising to hug him. “I did not know you would be back so soon.”
“Soon?” the Earl said, shaking his head with affection. “Daughter, darling, I have been gone almost all afternoon.”
Rose blinked, fumbling for her watch and noting the time. She had been reading since just after breakfast.
Her father chuckled again, touching her blushing cheek with a gentle hand.
“Time does get away from you when you read, doesn’t it?” her father teased. “Some days, I believe that I will find that you have vanished into the very pages of the stories you read.”
Rose blushed and giggled.
“Just remember who it was that bought me all these books,” she teased back.
The Earl laughed again.
“And I could not be prouder that you love to read so,” he said.
Rose beamed at her father.
“I trust that your trip to town went well,” she said, taking her seat once more.
Her father smiled. Not for the first time, Rose noticed a shadow of unhappiness under her father’s eyes, despite how gracefully he had aged. And, as with every time she noticed it, she wished that she could wipe away those shadows and make him truly happy again.
“Oh, yes,” the Earl said, waving his hand. “Just a boring business meeting at the theater.”
Rose laughed.
“That meeting would be the only boring thing at the theater, to be sure,” she teased.
Her father gave an exaggerated exasperated sigh.
“You certainly speak the truth, my dear,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. Then, his face lit up.
“However, there was one thing which I happened to overhear that was not quite so boring,” the Earl said.
“Oh?” Rose asked, interested.
“This year’s Season will be starting in a couple of weeks,” he said.
Rose blinked, surprised.
“Are you thinking of attending some of the dances?” she asked.
Her father laughed heartily again.
“Oh, my, no,” he said. “But I do believe that you are ready to come out into the ton. You are of marriageable age, and quite a catch, if I do say so myself. And I would very much love to see you find a good man.”
Rose’s mouth fell open.
“Oh, but Father,” she said. “I have not even begun to think of marrying.”
The Earl nodded and gave his daughter a kind smile.
“I know, my dear,” he said. “But I do wish very much to see you happy and well with a good, respectable husband, and meeting a few of the ton’s eligible men at these balls could do no harm.”
Rose frowned.
“I am afraid that I disagree,” she said. “I like life just as it is now. I do not have any interest whatsoever in finding a man.”
Her father took her hands in hers.
“You may feel that way now,” he said. “But I assure you, if you attend a few balls, you will begin to feel differently about it.”
Rose gave her head a firm shake.
“I must disagree again, Father,” she said. Her voice was gentle but determined. “My life right now includes my books and assisting you in managing the theater. And I am perfectly happy and content with that.”
The Earl nodded.
“And having you assist me has been a true blessing, indeed,” he admitted. “But you deserve to be happy, with your own family and your own life.”
“And you do not deserve the same?” Rose asked.
Her father blinked in surprise.
“I do not know what you mean,” he said, confused.
Rose crossed her arms over her chest.
“I have seen the way you look at and interact with the Dowager Marchioness of Dolomore,” she said.
Her father blushed at once, and Rose barely suppressed a giggle.
He opened his mouth to speak but succeeded only in clearing his throat. This time, Rose did laugh aloud.
“He who attempts to tell fibs chokes on them,” she said, echoing one of her mother’s favorite sayings.
The Earl cleared his throat again, with more authority this time.
“Yes, well,” he said, carefully averting his gaze from his daughter’s. “At present, we are discussing the necessity of getting you married.”
“But, Father,” Rose protested. “Do my wishes suddenly mean so little to you?”
“Of course, your wishes mean the world to me,” her father said. “I simply wonder if you do not realize that you are ready to marry because you have not yet sought a suitor.”
“I will find a suitor when I am ready to marry,” Rose said. She felt a pang of guilt as she noticed that her father’s face rapidly began to look more aged as they talked. She did not wish to upset him, but she could not reconcile herself with the idea of marriage just yet.
“And besides,” Rose continued, her voice taking on a tinge of pleading. “I wish to never be forced to marry for duty, or because it is expected of me by society.” She took her father’s hands in hers once more. “I want to marry for love, my true love. I want for myself and my husband, whenever I do at last decide to marry, what you and Mother had.”
The Earl sighed, and for a moment his gaze became dreamy and distant. Rose winced, hoping that she had not caused her father fresh pain by so suddenly bringing up her mother. She had died when Rose was only eight years old, but Rose still had many clear memories of her. Rose often found herself using things like her mother’s favorite sayings or thinking about her superstitions frequently. She recalled the nights when she and her mother would read together. But the one thing Rose remembered most affectionately was the love between her mother and father.