Twenty–NineRose was just finishing her sampler when her aunt joined her in the drawing room the following day.
“Have you given a thought to what you will wear this evening?” Aunt Farmington asked.
Rose looked up. “I was not planning on going out this evening.” Not after the countless hours of sleep she had lost the past few nights just thinking about St. John.
She could still see his sad face in her mind’s eye when she had walked away with Lord Kirtland. It haunted her—her happy, always smiling St. John looking so miserable. If she had only said something, anything…
“What do you mean? Tonight is Lady Wynworth’s rout. You must attend,” her aunt said, erasing the horrible picture from Rose’s mind and bringing her back to the present.
“If I go, I’m certain to be the laughingstock of the
