Red Rose by Mary Balogh

his fencing and boxing skills. He began a liaison with the Covent Garden dancer that he had mentioned to Sir Henry Martel at Watier’s, and convinced himself that she was a very satisfactory bedfellow. He seriously considered setting her up under his permanent protection, but did not do so immediately. He was restless with a nameless dissatisfaction, though he did not know why. She was the sort of woman most likely to please him: red-haired, petite, fragile, and beautiful. Although she was new to London, she had been well taught in the arts of her chief trade. He would wait awhile before doing anything so permanent and so uncharacteristic of himself as to establish her in a residence that he supported.
    During the evenings Raymore occasionally sacrificed his own pleasures for the sake of accompanying his wards to some social function. He wished to lend them all the support of his own consequence. And he wished to watch the progress of his plans for them. He was well-satisfied that there would be no problem with Sylvia. His uneasiness over the attentions of Charles Hammond was soon over. After a couple of weeks the girl began to discourage him. Obviously she had some sense as well as a great deal of beauty. It seemed to him very likely that Standen would offer for her before the Season was over. A summer or an autumn wedding seemed a reasonable expectation.
    He did not like to think about Rosalind. She had, of course, refused Axby, more to spite him than to serve her own interests, he believed. He had expected that her chances of attaching to herself any other man were remarkably slim. Yet it was not so. Her disability had been displayed very publicly on her first appearance, had shocked those who had witnessed her display, and had been accepted. She had no great following, but she was not ostracized, either. Axby still seemed to retain some hope; a few older men who were not obviously hanging out for wives seemed to enjoy sitting beside her and conversing, and Henry seemed quite fond of her. He gathered that she had visited Elise on more than one occasion. Strangest of all, Raymore noticed that Crawleigh was on easy terms with her and apparently enjoyed her company. If he could be brought to the point, it would be a great coup. Many hopeful mamas had had an eye on him for several Seasons.
    Raymore could not understand why Crawleigh was interested, if indeed he was. He watched them together at one drawing-room gathering following a dinner party. Rosalind was dressed vividly, as she usually was these days, in emerald-green satin. Her hair, dressed high in intricate coils, shone and made her neck appear long and slender. She was laughing. Her dark eyes sparkled, her teeth showed very white in contrast to the darkness of her hair. Had her face been so animated when she had first arrived in his house? He seemed to remember gaining an impression of a stubborn will and perhaps a sullen nature.
    His eyes slid down her body. The gown became her well. Its bright color and high sheen gave the impression of elegance, although its style was not calculated to reveal her figure. Raymore remembered those full breasts beneath his hands, the tiny waist, the flaring hips. She laughed again as he watched, a pealing, girlish laugh, and laid a hand lightly on Crawleigh’s sleeve for a moment. The earl felt anger flaring. She need not set her cap so blatantly at the man. It might be a brilliant match for her if she could accomplish her goal, but he could not like the connection. He did not have a chance to analyze his feeling; his hostess claimed his attention at that point.
    Rosalind’s sessions in the music room had not discontinued after her come-out ball. In fact, it became almost a necessity to her to spend at least an hour a day playing and singing. Music soothed her and provided some kind of anchor to an existence that she found a great strain. Rarely was she at ease when she was in society.