Rose (Flower Trilogy) Read Online Free PDF Page B

holding her fingers, he grinned back. “My reputation, my dear?”
    “As a ladies’ man.”

    Chrystabel gasped, but Charles just threw back his head and laughed. Rose shot her mother a triumphant smile.
    Charles looked around them. “It seems you are the last to be presented,” he said, not looking at all displeased about that. “Would you honor me with a dance?”
    Now it was Rose’s turn to gasp. She knew the protocol was for ladies to ask His Majesty to dance, not the opposite. Feeling light-headed, she curtsied again, then grinned.
    “ ’Twould be my honor, Sire.”
    “The second dance, then,” he said, rising from his throne. He held out a hand to Catharine, and she rose as well and let him guide her to the dance floor, the jewels on her gorgeous lavender gown twinkling as she moved.
    The incessant chatter in the room went quiet for a moment as everyone turned to watch the King and Queen dance the first dance.
    Rose drifted to join the small crowd that surrounded the dance floor, hugging herself with excitement. After the King danced with her, surely other men would want to do the same.
    Maybe one of them would end up her husband.
    In fact, before the first dance even ended, she felt a light tap on her shoulder and turned to see a handsome specimen. The man was tall and fair, his clothing dripping with lace, his manner oozing aristocracy.
    He struck a pose, one hand resting lightly on the jeweled hilt of his court sword, the other on the head of his high, beribboned walking stick. “Lady Trentingham, may I have the honor of an introduction?”
    Rose wasn’t surprised that he knew her mother’s name.
    Lady Trentingham was known far and wide as an amateur matchmaker—and a very successful one, at that. For him to ask for an introduction must mean . . .
    “Lord Rosslyn, may I present Lady Rose Ashcroft. My daughter, ” she added meaningfully before turning to Rose.
    “Rose, this is Gaylord Craig, the Earl of Rosslyn.” Chrystabel turned back to the earl. “And how is your wife, my lord?” she asked in pointed tone.
    “She is well,” the man replied blithely. His gaze wandered to the left, where Rose saw a woman half entwined with a man who looked a decade her junior. “Like most here at Court, we have an understanding.”
    Rose was half tempted to bash him over the head with his own walking stick, but before she could react, Charles appeared by her side. He bowed, then held out a hand. “My lady?”
    Rosslyn’s eyes widened, and Rose felt rather triumphant as she joined the King on the dance floor.
    ’Twas a country dance, performed in two lines, one of women, one of men. When it was her turn to parade down the center with Charles, their joined hands held high, Rose felt the eyes of the entire chamber on her.
    And the King’s eyes as well. Dark and glinting, they captured hers quite effectively. The fabled Stuart charm. “ ’Tis a pleasure to have a new face at Court, my lady. Especially one as lovely as yours.” He danced superbly, graceful for so tall a man, his voice just as smooth. “Why have you never graced us with your presence before now?”
    She blushed—becomingly, she hoped. “My father thought me too young.”
    “Young?” he echoed.
    And then they had to return to their respective lines.
    As she executed the simple steps, she furtively glanced around. There were ladies of her mother’s age, certainly, but there were also girls of fifteen and sixteen. Or perhaps she should think of them as women, since they hung on the arms of grown men, flirting madly.
    Clearly, she was not too young.
    The next time she met up with the King to parade down the center, she had a more plausible answer. “I have come to Court to find a husband.”
    “Ahh.” His dark eyes glittered speculatively. “Interesting choice of word, my lady. Husbands we have, although many are already wed.” He smiled at his own jest. “Take me, for example—”
    “I won’t be,” she interrupted archly.
    She