and I’m afraid we lost all sense of time.’
The Dowager beamed a delighted smile. ‘I see you two have become quite familiar and are on first-name terms already. I’m very happy to hear it.’
Alexander returned his mother’s smile with a frown. ‘I apologise, Mother, for keeping Miss van Haven from the other guests.’ His expressionless voice was a stark contrast to his mother’s enthusiasm.
‘So, how much of the estate did you get the chance to see, Miss van Haven?’ the Dowager asked, drawing Rosie’s attention away from the frowning Alexander. ‘No doubt Alexander told you we have more than five thousand acres of land and that our gardens are among the finest in England?’
Alexander sighed loudly. ‘You’re starting to sound like a salesman, Mother.’
‘Don’t be vulgar, Alexander.’ The Dowager’s smile faltered slightly, before returning, just as large as before, as she focused her attention back on Rosie. ‘I hope he told you that the FitzRoys have lived on this land since the fifteenth century? The house is reputed to be one of the most elegant in the country, with more than two hundred rooms. Not that I’ve counted them, of course. That includes the summer and winter parlours and two formal dining rooms, as well as the breakfast room, three drawing rooms, the ballroom, and countless bedchambers to accommodate as many guests as you could possibly wish to entertain. Do you like to entertain, Miss van Haven?’
Rosie forced herself not to smile as she watched Alexander roll his eyes. Instead she nodded non-committally.
‘And every part of this house is desperately in need of extensive and very expensive renovation work,’ he said.
The Dowager’s lips drew into a tight line and her nostrils flared. She sent Alexander a quick, narrow-eyed glare then resumed smiling at Rosie. ‘And you say that Alexander showed you the gallery? Indeed, it contains many priceless works of art—but it houses only a fraction of the family’s collection, which can be found in every room of the house.’
Alexander’s frown deepened further. ‘And many of those works of art will have to be sold to cover our mounting debts.’
‘Oh, Alexander, you can be such a bore sometimes,’ the Dowager snapped.
Rosie looked from Alexander to the Dowager and back again. It was as if she were watching a tennis match, played by two equally determined and equally matched opponents.
The Dowager continued to frown at her son, and then, as if remembering herself, she smiled at Rosie. ‘Not that he’s a bore, really. This is most unlike him. Usually he’s not in the least bit serious. Oh, yes, Alexander loves to have fun and live life to the full.’
Rosie bit the edge of her top lip to stifle a giggle. The supposedly fun-loving Alexander his mother was describing was as far from the serious, disapproving man standing beside her as it was possible to get.
‘Really, Your Grace?’ Rosie tried hard not to laugh. ‘In that case I look forward to seeing Alexander perform a few party tricks.’
The Dowager flicked a nervous look in Alexander’s direction, her smile twitching at the edges. Alexander glared back at her, as if challenging his mother to try and talk her way out of her outrageous claim.
Instead of attempting the impossible, she took Rosie’s arm. ‘There will be plenty of time for that later, but now our other guests are anxious to meet you.’
They swept their way around the large room and Rosie was introduced to Lord This and Lady That, the Countess of This and the Earl of That. If the assembled guests were anything to go by it seemed the FitzRoys really did mix in exclusive society. There was not a Mr or Mrs among them, with everyone in the room bearing a title from Duke down to Baron.
And each guest, no matter what their title, reacted in exactly the same manner when they were introduced to Rosie—with enthusiastic delight, as if they really were meeting the future Duchess of Knightsbrook. She was greeted with smiles, nods of approval, and even the occasional curtsey from the assembled aristocrats.
It seemed the Dowager was so convinced she was going to marry Alexander that she had all but announced the engagement already.
Alexander was right. The Dowager was a very determined woman. But unfortunately for her she was going to discover that both Rosie and Alexander were equally resolute that they would not be wed.
Their circuit of the large room took them to the last guest, a rather severe elderly woman standing by the fire. The Dowager seemed to hesitate, her smile quivering slightly, before she smiled and made the introductions.
‘Lady Beaufort, may I introduce Arabella van Haven? She is our guest from America.’
Lady Beaufort’s straight posture grew more rigid and her nose rose higher in the air as she tilted back her head and raked her gaze over Rosie from head to toe, then back again. ‘So you’re the banker’s daughter?’
Rosie’s fists clenched at her sides. Since her father had lost all his money through no fault of his own, reducing their family to a state of poverty, Rosie had been forced to endure being snubbed, insulted and belittled by people who had once treated her family with respect.
Through bitter experience she had learnt to let such behaviour wash over her. So she did what she always did in such circumstances: breathed in deeply, forced herself to relax her tensely gripped hands and smiled her sunniest smile.
‘That’s right. I’m the banker’s daughter—Arabella van Haven. How do you do?’
She received the expected glare in return, which only caused Rosie to smile more brightly.
‘I hear you’re seeking a titled husband?’ Lady Beaufort said after a prolonged silence.
Several guests nearby gasped at this blatant breach of the rules of polite conversation, but their shock didn’t stop them from leaning forward, eager to hear more of this exchange.
‘Oh, come, come, Lady Beaufort,’ the Dowager said with a false laugh. ‘Miss van Haven is here to enjoy our hospitality. If she and Alexander should happen to fall in love, well...’
‘I’m just pleased my dear daughter Lydia is not here to see this shameless behaviour.’
The Dowager’s mouth opened and closed as she gasped for something to say.
‘And now that I’ve met the banker’s daughter who is trying to buy herself a title I think I’ll take my leave.’
Lady Beaufort swept past Rosie, causing her to jump out of her way to avoid getting trampled in her bull-like progress.
But Rosie had failed to notice one of the couples who had moved closer to hear the conversation. She stepped back on to the listening man’s foot, causing him to cry out and send his teacup clattering to the ground.
The sound of shattering china brought all conversation to a sudden halt as every head turned in their direction.
‘Oh, look what the clumsy little thing has done!’ Lady Beaufort said as a young maid scrambled on the floor to retrieve the pieces of broken porcelain. ‘It’s a shame these Americans don’t know how to act in polite society.’
‘Lady Beaufort, I think you
