Rose (Flower Trilogy) by Lauren Royal Read Free Book Online

sympathetically. “I was sorry to hear of your misfortune.”
    Given that they were competing for the same post, Kit wondered if the man was sincere—but after all, they went back a long way. Oxford, of course, and before that, they’d both attended Westminster School. They’d never run in the same circles, Kit being a King’s Scholar with his tuition paid by the Crown, while Rosslyn stuck to his wealthy crowd. But Kit had always got on well with everyone, and as it had become clear in the last few weeks that he and Rosslyn were the final candidates for Deputy Surveyor, he’d found himself a bit disconcerted to be competing for the post with a friend.
    Not that that dimmed his determination to win. He felt like he’d been working toward this appointment all his life.
    Now he was so close.
    He tried for a blithe smile. “What misfortune is that?”
    “Your project here has suffered a setback, has it not?”
    Kit managed an unconcerned shrug. “Minor, I can assure you. I will finish within deadline as planned.”
    “Excellent.” Rosslyn toyed with the ribbons that crowned his walking stick, his pale blue eyes speculative. “Do you know, I have mixed feelings about winning the Deputy Surveyor post over you. The last thing I need is more projects—I’m overwhelmed with commissions as it is.” One square-toed high-heeled shoe tapping, the earl eyed Kit’s plain suit with ill-concealed disdain. “And I certainly don’t need a knighthood.”
    Kit was glad to hear it. Apparently Rosslyn wasn’t feeling competitive. Kit grinned and held out a hand. “Well, then, for the sake of the kingdom, may the best man win.”
    Rosslyn’s grip had always been of the limp variety, and this occasion was no exception. Kit knew he was the best man. He just had to prove it.

Chapter Five
    As the evening wore on, Gabriel sought out Rose for a second dance, and then a third. “People will talk,” she told him as he guided her toward the dance floor once again.
    “Do you care?” he asked.
    “Of course not.” Rose’s attention was drawn by a spectacle that was already becoming familiar: King Charles crossing the chamber followed by a bevy of yipping spaniels.
    Amused, she smiled as she saw him stop before a short woman and slide an arm around her possessively. “Who is that?” Rose asked.
    The duke barely spared the couple a glance. “Have you never met Nell Gwyn?”
    “Is that Nell Gwyn? Gemini!” Rose knew of the woman, of course; she doubted there was a soul in England who hadn’t heard of the brothel-born actress who’d stolen His Majesty’s heart. But she’d expected Nell to be exquisite.
    Although the woman enthusiastically kissing Charles was pretty, Rose wouldn’t call her beautiful. Her small body was lushly curvy, her hair a riot of red-brown curls. Rose’s eyes widened as Charles worked his mistress toward a chair and tumbled her onto his lap. Over the music, Nell’s delighted laughter mixed with the ever-present yaps of the King’s dogs.
    “I had no idea she was allowed at Court,” Rose mused.
    “Has Charles granted her a title?”

    “Of course not.” Gabriel maneuvered her around to where she couldn’t stare. “But Charles made their young son the Earl of Burford, and Nell herself was appointed Lady of the Queen’s Bedchamber these two years past.”
    Rose blinked. “And what does our dear Queen think of that?”
    “I don’t expect our dear Queen was given a say in the matter.” The duke raised a brow as he looked down at her.
    “Wives usually aren’t.”
    “Not all wives,” she said archly. “I’ll have you know my family’s motto is Interroga Conformationem. ”
    “Question Convention?” he translated, looking amused.
    Rose smiled, pleased. On top of everything else wonderful about him, the man knew Latin.
    After a couple more dances with men who failed to measure up to the duke, Rose sneaked off toward the ladies’ attiring room, hoping for a rest. As she approached the small