She might have said some more pleasantries and he would have responded, but the Duchess of Tunbridge leaned in. “Lightmorrow has asked me to dance. Excuse me, Flora.”
Flora smiled after her and Lightmorrow as they departed, leaving Roarke alone with her. He stepped a little closer so they could talk and got the lightest whiff of rose petals on her skin. Intoxicating.
She glanced up at him and smiled, a very genuine and warm expression. “So you knew Lightmorrow when he was a recalcitrant youth, did you?”
He chuckled at her question. “Indeed. A rapscallion he was, even then. Always getting himself into one scrape or another and bringing the lot of us along with him.”
“How old were you when you met?” she asked.
“Twelve,” he said. “And we remained school chums for several years until I—” He cut himself off.
She laughed a little, a husky sound. “Bernadette, that is the Duchess of Tunbridge, is also an old friend of his.”
He looked across the room to where Lightmorrow was turning around the dancefloor with the duchess in his arms. They were not talking, but they did look at each other with a great deal of focus. “Hmmm, they do seem like…friends.”
She let out a little snort that told him she saw the connection between their companions just as he did. He looked at her from the corner of his eye. “So, the Duchess of Sidmouth,” he said carefully. “And where is the duke?”
He asked the question to judge her reaction, but also because he wished to see if she had recognized his last name as one associated with her late husband’s first wife.
She bent her head and took the shallowest of breaths. “Er, my husband passed nearly three years ago, Mr. Desmond.”
He heard the faint strain to her tone, but couldn’t place the reason. Sadness? Or frustration? Relief?
“My apologies,” he said swiftly. “A woman of your years and beauty, I assumed you must be married to the current duke.”
She pulled a face that she swiftly hid. It seemed the lady felt no more affection toward her stepchildren than they felt toward her. “Er, no. I believe the current duke is unmarried as of yet. We are not close since his father’s death. I’m not up on family news.”
“Ah,” he said, and shrugged. “I’m afraid I’m also not much up on the news of those of such rank. I run in quite different circles normally.” He nodded toward Lightmorrow. “Present friends aside, of course.”
“You don’t miss much,” she said softly, and for the first time he noted a hint of bitterness to her tone, even though it was in no way reflected on her face. She still looked serene and utterly lovely as she looked out over the crowd.
“Perhaps not,” he said. He turned more fully toward her and she glanced over at him. Her gaze lingered on his face for a moment, and then she caught a little breath and ducked it away.
Before he could say anything else, she took a step back. “Er, well, it’s been a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Desmond. It looks as though Bernadette has finished her dance with the duke and I should join her. I wish you a fine evening.”
He bit his tongue to keep himself from calling her back to him and instead merely inclined his head. “Your Grace.”
She pivoted then and darted off into the crowd. He sighed as he watched her go. The few moments spent with her had not revealed her to be a monster, which would have certainly made his life easier. He could have reported back to his cousins, called his duties complete and collected a tidy sum of blunt.
Instead he’d been left with the uneasy attraction to a woman he certainly should have no interest in. And a feeling that when she walked away it was the first time he could draw a first breath since they had been introduced.
“Bollocks,” he muttered beneath his breath before he turned and made his own way into the crowd away from where she had gone.
Flora found herself glancing across the crowded ballroom for what had to have been the tenth time that long night. She knew what she was searching for, even if she might not have ever admitted it to anyone else. And when her gaze fell on Mr. Roarke Desmond, her ridiculous heart throbbed just the tiniest bit faster.
Of course, admit it or not, she had clearly made herself too plain, for Bernadette made a little snort at her side. “He’s a handsome gentleman.”
Flora tore her eyes from him and speared her friend with what she hoped was a reasonably innocent expression. “Who?”
Bernadette pursed her lips. “Mister…what was his name?”
“Desmond,” Flora said, and then blushed as she realized she’d just proven Bernadette’s point. “Ugh, you are terrible.”
Bernadette shrugged. “I don’t see what the problem is. You don’t have to hide it if you feel a little regard for a person.”
“I don’t feel anything,” Flora said with a shake of her head as she stole another glance at him. “I met the man all of two hours ago and we talked for less than five minutes. I’m looking. There is no harm in looking.”
“I agree,” Bernadette said, this time a little softer, and when Flora glanced at her she realized her friend was staring at Lightmorrow, who was now laughing with Valaria’s secret fiancé, Callum. Bernadette must have felt Flora looking because she tore her gaze away and refocused it on Flora. “And you could do more than look if you are of a mind, you know.”
Flora tried to think of a witty rejoinder at that statement, but her hands had begun to shake and she felt the color go out of her cheeks.
Bernadette made a soft sound in her throat and stepped closer. “Oh dearest, I apologized. I should not have teased. I know what a struggle it’s been for you these past few years.”
Flora sighed. “I’m in the odd position that I actually both loved and liked my husband. Very different from a great many merry widows who are ready to pounce on their next conquest before the grave is even fully covered by dirt.” She caught her breath. “I don’t mean Valaria, of course.”
“Of course not,” Bernadette reassured her. “Valaria was in a very different situation—no one could blame her for celebrating her husband’s death rather than grieving it. But this is not an all or nothing situation, is it? You can have loved Stuart and miss him, but not lock yourself away forever as if you died alongside him. You have money and freedom, you could seek a new husband if you wished. Or…or a lover.”
Bernadette blushed as she said it, and Flora couldn’t help but do the same, especially when she glanced at Mr. Desmond again and found him watching her with unmistakable interest in his expression. When was the last time she’d felt that kind of regard? When was the last time it had elicited a stir of reaction in her stomach when she had?
She shook her head. “This is all rather silly a conversation, isn’t it? Whether or not I found someone here tonight to be a handsome gentleman, whether or not I intend to open my future up to the possibility of a connection to another man, there is not much chance I’ll ever see Mr. Desmond again. So I needn’t worry about him, even if I do promise to consider your very good advice about my potential future.”
Bernadette glanced over her shoulder at Mr. Desmond again and then wrapped her arm around Flora. “Whatever you wish.”