“Merrick danced with you again last night,” Peter observed at breakfast. “Twice, and one of them the supper dance.”
“Yes,” Rose said. “He asked me at the ball a few days ago. And last night he asked if he might take me driving this afternoon.”
“Did he, indeed?” asked Peter. “Is he courting you, Rose?”
Rose pondered that. He had certainly been attentive. He had not danced with Vivienne at all, and he had not danced with anyone twice. Indeed, he seemed to go out of his way to pick ladies who were not usually invited to dance. Debutantes who were young, shy, and spotty. Companions long past their last prayers and sinking into oblivion. Several wives who were faithful to their husbands but fond of dancing.
It had crossed Rose’s mind to wonder whether she was another of his charity cases, but she was beginning to hope that was not the case. No one else had been begged for four dances between the two balls. No one else was asked for a waltz, or for the privilege of escorting her into supper. He had directed the smoldering heat in his eyes in her direction and in her direction only. And now he had asked her to come for a drive.
She had not allowed herself to think as far ahead as courtship, however. “Usually, the men who pay me attention are trying to curry favor with Viv,” she told Peter.
“Lord Merrick has no interest in me,” Viv said.
“Lord Merrick has eyes for no one except Rose,” Arial observed.
“The question is,” said Peter, “how does Rose feel about Lord Merrick?”
Rose could feel her cheeks heating. “The question is a little beforehand, is it not? Lord Merrick has not asked to court me.”
Arial gave a quick shake of her head. “I disagree, Rose. If you think you might be developing an affection for Lord Merrick, then yes, wait and see what happens. If you are sure he is not someone you could tie yourself to for the rest of your life, now is the time to gently discourage him.”
“He’s rather old,” Viv observed.
“Thank you,” Peter said, dryly. He, Rose knew, would be thirty-seven years of age on his next birthday.
Viv refused to be squelched. “You are twice as old as I am, Peter, and Rose is only a year older than me.”
“It is a sizeable age gap,” Arial agreed, “but Rose is mature for her age.”
It is rather annoying to be talked about instead of to. “I am here, you know,” she pointed out.
Arial turned the tables on her rather neatly. “Do you mind the age gap, Rose? Would you like Lord Merrick to court you?”
She thought about the question and the man. Lord Merrick, with his haunted eyes, with his warrior’s face and figure, that looked as if all excess flesh had worn away, leaving only muscle and skin stretched over the bone. With the innate kindness that led him to offer dances to the overlooked and to agonize over the plight of an old man he had no reason to like.
“I do not see why he would,” she said. “What do I have to offer a man like him? As Viv says, he is a man grown, in the prime of his life. He has traveled the world and has had experiences I cannot imagine. Even if he finds me attractive…” She thought about the heat she had seen in his eyes and had to acknowledge, if only to herself, that he was attracted to her. “It does not mean he plans to act on his attraction.”
“He had better not,” Peter growled. “Not unless he has offered for you. Not unless you have his ring on your finger.”
“What do you want?” Arial asked, with gentle insistence.
I want Lord Merrick, Rose realized. “I would like to go driving with Lord Merrick, and see what happens after that. He has said he intends to return to Scotland, soon. If he does, then at least I will have had an enjoyable drive, and a pleasant partner for several dances.”
If he did not intend anything more than a flirtation to while away his time in London, he would leave Rose with a bruised heart, but so be it. She would not discourage him now and precipitate the loss she fully expected to suffer but would build a few memories to keep her company in the coming years. One waltz, one conversation, one drive at a time. Perhaps, if she was very fortunate, one kiss?