One Perfect Rose Read Free

Harrow and Cambridge. He had consciously tempered the arrogance his father considered suitable to a Kenyon, for his own belief was that a true gentleman had no need of arrogance or boasting. He had treated his wife with consideration and respect, never reproaching her for what she was incapable of giving.
    He had always played by the rules—and for what? For what?
    Violently he swept his arm across a graceful side table, sending china ornaments and fresh flowers crashing to the floor. He had lived the life ordained for him, and it had been no life at all. Now that he was finally in a position to reach for a richer existence, his time had run out. It wasn’t fair. It bloody wasn’t fair .
    With the long wars over, he’d been planning to travel, to see Vienna and Florence and Greece. He had wanted to do foolish things for no other reason than because they gave him pleasure. He’d wanted to learn if he was capable of passion, and perhaps take another wife who would be a companion instead of merely a perfect duchess.
    He swung about, half suffocated by his anger. Though he had no intention of discussing his condition, such news would not stay secret for long. Soon there would be curiosity in people’s eyes as they studied him, wondering how much longer he would last. Worse, there would be pity. His neighbors would whisper when he entered a room. His valet, Hubble, would go around with tears in his eyes, making a bad situation worse.
    For the first time in his life, Stephen yearned to escape Ashburton Abbey and everything it represented. He paced across the room. Though he was surrounded by people, there was no one to whom he could unburden his soul. At Ashburton he was “the duke,” always calm and detached. But now he felt a desperate desire to be someplace where he was a stranger while he came to terms with Blackmer’s crushing diagnosis. He wanted to be anonymous and free , even if it was only for a few weeks.
    Well, why not? He stopped pacing and thought about it. Nothing was stopping him from leaving. He could go anywhere he chose, at any speed he wished. He could stop at village fairs and admire the pretty girls. Stay at inns that his servants would consider beneath their dignity. And August was a lovely time to ride through England.
    This might be his last summer.
    Gut twisting, he went into his bedroom and jerked open a drawer, yanking out a couple of changes of linen. Since he would go on horseback, he must travel light. How did ordinary people get their laundry done? It would be interesting to find out.
    The door opened and his valet entered. “I heard something break, Your Grace.” Hubble halted, his eyes widening at the disarray. “Your Grace?”
    Stephen straightened from the pile accumulating on the bed. Since Hubble was here, he might as well be put to work. Stephen could be on his way that much sooner. “I’m going on holiday,” he said with private irony. “Pack my saddlebags.”
    Hubble regarded the clothing doubtfully. “Yes, sir. Where are we going?”
    â€œ We are not going anywhere. I am going alone.” Stephen added a well-worn volume of his favorite Shakespeare to the growing pile.
    The valet looked baffled. He was a competent and good-natured man, but he’d never understood Stephen’s antic streak. “But who will take care of your clothing, sir?”
    â€œI guess I’ll have to do it myself.” Stephen unlocked a desk drawer and took out a fistful of money, enough for several weeks. “It will be quite educational.”
    Hubble visibly winced at the thought of how badly his master would be turned out. Forestalling the inevitable protest, Stephen said sharply, “No arguments, no comments. Just pack the blasted saddlebags.”
    The valet swallowed. “Very good, sir. What sort of clothing will you require?”
    Stephen shrugged. “Keep it simple. I don’t intend to go to any grand