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Authors: Scandal of the Black Rose
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his attention toward a diplomatic position in the government.”
“How exciting. I imagine he will travel frequently.”
“It all depends if Edgar Vaughn will grant him the position. But Rome is determined to win the post, and I do not doubt that he will do so. Once Rome sets his mind to something he is relentless.”
Rome’s voice echoed through her mind. This isn’t over, Rose. I will find you, and we will finish what we’ve started.
Anna choked on her tea.
“Goodness, are you all right?”
Anna dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “Yes, quite.”
A knock sounded at the front door, echoing to them even in the tiny parlor. Anna glanced at the clock on the mantel and realized she had spent more than the proper allotted amount of time chatting with Lavinia. She set down her teacup. “Goodness, is that the time? Mama will be livid if I am late to my fitting at the dressmaker’s.”
“Must you go so soon?”
“Unfortunately, I must. I expect I shall see you Thursday night at the theater?”
“Indeed.”
The butler appeared. “Mrs. Prudence Wentworth.”
Lavinia wrinkled her nose, and whispered, “Gossiping old prune. But she is one of Henry’s political allies.”
Both young ladies stood as an older woman entered the room. Mrs. Wentworth steamed forward like a ship at full sail, her impressive bosom leading the way. “Mrs. Emberly, how well you look.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Wentworth. Have you met Miss Rosewood?”
The daunting matron pulled out a quizzing glass and inspected Anna. “Admiral Rosewood’s daughter, I presume?”
“Yes, Mrs. Wentworth.”
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Ah, tea! Just the thing!”
“Allow me to pour you a cup,” Lavinia said, doing so at once.
Mrs. Wentworth sank her substantial body into a chair. “Are you joining us, Miss Rosewood?”
“Unfortunately, no. I have an appointment I must keep.”
“Good day to you then,” Mrs. Wentworth said, then took the cup and saucer handed to her by Lavinia.
“Thank you for calling,” Lavinia said. “Bagsley will see you out.”
“Until Thursday.” With a gracious nod at Mrs.Wentworth, Anna left the room, shutting the doors behind her. She paused for a moment to gather her composure.
The Devereaux family was strangely lacking in pretense—or was it subtlety? Such candor, such open affection. These things didn’t exist in Anna’s world.
She glanced around for Bagsley. Finding the hallway deserted, she wondered if he might be fetching Lizzie.
“Bagsley?” she called. Footsteps sounded down the hallway, and she walked toward them. “Are you there?”
Silence. She gave a small huff of exasperation. She didn’t fancy going back into the parlor and facing Mrs. Wentworth just so Lavinia could ring for the butler, but what choice did she have? She turned back toward the parlor, but something caught her eye in the room directly across the hall. Glancing about one more time for a servant and seeing none, she walked over and stepped into what looked to be Henry Emberly’s office.
The painting that had so attracted her hung in a place of honor above the mantel. At first glimpse, she’d thought it was Rome, but now that she studied it more closely, she could see the differences between the man in the portrait and Roman Devereaux. She walked all the way into the room, her attention completely captured by the likeness. The striking, dark-haired man in the portrait hadthe same sharply attractive features as the man she knew, but he also had dark brown eyes—very different from Rome’s piercing green—and a beauty mark near his ear.
Definitely a close relative.
“Good morning, Miss Rosewood.”
Anna spun about with a squeak of surprise to find Rome himself standing behind her. “What are you doing here?”
He chuckled. “I came to call on my sister, but Mrs. Wentworth’s presence inspired me to examine the library. What about you?” Amusement lurked in those mesmerizing eyes of his, as if he knew
“How exciting. I imagine he will travel frequently.”
“It all depends if Edgar Vaughn will grant him the position. But Rome is determined to win the post, and I do not doubt that he will do so. Once Rome sets his mind to something he is relentless.”
Rome’s voice echoed through her mind. This isn’t over, Rose. I will find you, and we will finish what we’ve started.
Anna choked on her tea.
“Goodness, are you all right?”
Anna dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “Yes, quite.”
A knock sounded at the front door, echoing to them even in the tiny parlor. Anna glanced at the clock on the mantel and realized she had spent more than the proper allotted amount of time chatting with Lavinia. She set down her teacup. “Goodness, is that the time? Mama will be livid if I am late to my fitting at the dressmaker’s.”
“Must you go so soon?”
“Unfortunately, I must. I expect I shall see you Thursday night at the theater?”
“Indeed.”
The butler appeared. “Mrs. Prudence Wentworth.”
Lavinia wrinkled her nose, and whispered, “Gossiping old prune. But she is one of Henry’s political allies.”
Both young ladies stood as an older woman entered the room. Mrs. Wentworth steamed forward like a ship at full sail, her impressive bosom leading the way. “Mrs. Emberly, how well you look.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Wentworth. Have you met Miss Rosewood?”
The daunting matron pulled out a quizzing glass and inspected Anna. “Admiral Rosewood’s daughter, I presume?”
“Yes, Mrs. Wentworth.”
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Ah, tea! Just the thing!”
“Allow me to pour you a cup,” Lavinia said, doing so at once.
Mrs. Wentworth sank her substantial body into a chair. “Are you joining us, Miss Rosewood?”
“Unfortunately, no. I have an appointment I must keep.”
“Good day to you then,” Mrs. Wentworth said, then took the cup and saucer handed to her by Lavinia.
“Thank you for calling,” Lavinia said. “Bagsley will see you out.”
“Until Thursday.” With a gracious nod at Mrs.Wentworth, Anna left the room, shutting the doors behind her. She paused for a moment to gather her composure.
The Devereaux family was strangely lacking in pretense—or was it subtlety? Such candor, such open affection. These things didn’t exist in Anna’s world.
She glanced around for Bagsley. Finding the hallway deserted, she wondered if he might be fetching Lizzie.
“Bagsley?” she called. Footsteps sounded down the hallway, and she walked toward them. “Are you there?”
Silence. She gave a small huff of exasperation. She didn’t fancy going back into the parlor and facing Mrs. Wentworth just so Lavinia could ring for the butler, but what choice did she have? She turned back toward the parlor, but something caught her eye in the room directly across the hall. Glancing about one more time for a servant and seeing none, she walked over and stepped into what looked to be Henry Emberly’s office.
The painting that had so attracted her hung in a place of honor above the mantel. At first glimpse, she’d thought it was Rome, but now that she studied it more closely, she could see the differences between the man in the portrait and Roman Devereaux. She walked all the way into the room, her attention completely captured by the likeness. The striking, dark-haired man in the portrait hadthe same sharply attractive features as the man she knew, but he also had dark brown eyes—very different from Rome’s piercing green—and a beauty mark near his ear.
Definitely a close relative.
“Good morning, Miss Rosewood.”
Anna spun about with a squeak of surprise to find Rome himself standing behind her. “What are you doing here?”
He chuckled. “I came to call on my sister, but Mrs. Wentworth’s presence inspired me to examine the library. What about you?” Amusement lurked in those mesmerizing eyes of his, as if he knew
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