Chapter 3

There was a sound from the far corner where a winged chair stood facing the shelves. A tousled head, crowned with two goose quills, appeared over the back and an oval face with a smudge on the chin and a pair of gilt-framed spectacles perched on its nose regarded him solemnly. 'Who are you?' asked the young woman. 'Where is Joshua?'

'Lucien Friar. You must be Rosalie. Don't you remember me?'

'No,' she said coldly.

'I am a close friend of your brother. Has he not mentioned me?' he demanded, startling Rosalie.

'Not that I recall. Do you know where my brother is Lord Friar?'

'I believe he is with his secretary dealing with his business.'

'No doubt he is also asking about my business."

''I don't know enough about it to form an answer."

A sensible answer. Lucien drew in a deep breath through his admirably straight nose which caused his equally admirable chest to expand while he narrowed his penetrating green eyes at her and swept the dark blond hair from his forehead with one long-fingered hand. Aah…Rosalie told herself that it was a perfectly rational female response to feel shaken, and stirred, by the display of so much masculinity.

'Lady Rosalie. Would you mind terribly if I ask for your company until your brother returns?'

Now was the time to blush prettily, but she had never mastered the art. 'I doubt that you would like my company Lord Friar. I am known to speak my mind, which most gentlemen do not appreciate.'

'I can recall you as a child. You used to accompany Joshua around. But since then? You are out, aren't you?'

'I am nine and ten,' Rosalie said. 'I have had two Seasons and I did not take. I am much happier as a seamstress.'

From Lucien's face she could see he was not at all surprised she had not taken. As Lucien's expression shifted from baffled to mildly pitying she tore her gaze from his face. 'Where have I put those quills?'

'The two in your hair?'

Oh Lord… Her spectacles slipped and Rosalie looped them into the chain around her neck with one hand while she plucked out the quills with the other. Most of her hair came down.

'Tell me, Lady Rosalie…' She found Lucien standing right beside her. '…What are your thoughts about marriage?' He lifted his hand and cupped her chin. His thumb brushed across the point, sending shivers down her spine and Rosalie wondered what he would say if she told him the truth.

She would love to be married and have children but she would also love to be able to create beautiful dresses and have some independence.

Rosalie was a rational woman. A realist. Intellectually she knew she was unlikely to melt because a handsome man was caressing her chin, but it felt uncomfortably as though she was about to test the theory. She realized Lucien had asked her a question.

'Why are you asking me this question my Lord?"

Lucien released her chin. 'That's better. You had a smudge.'

Wonderful. 'Thank you.' I think. Her skin still tingled.

'I just want to know your take on the subject. After all isn't marriage the ultimate goal for a young woman such as yourself?'

'That may be the case my Lord but as I've mentioned earlier, I am not like most women. There must be a reason for your inquiry."

'Joshua is right, you are indeed very direct.' His gaze moved to the stacks of books, the papers and the tray of rocks beside her chair. 'I have found myself in a difficult position and your brother thought that perhaps you can help me. But before I go any further, surely there is a gentleman who wishes to fix his interest with you?' he asked. 'I have no wish to be called out.'

'There is no one. You are perfectly safe," She shot an obstinate glance his way before continuing, "Lord Friar, I do not want to offend but I am rather busy at the moment and has a guest, I would appreciate it if you can tell me what it is in your mind."

'As mentioned I am in a difficult position. I recently learned that I am expected to make a proposal of marriage to a young lady that I have not even courted. Joshua suggested that perhaps to avoid scandal and humiliating the chit it would be wise to announce that I already have a prior engagement and a reason as to why it had to be kept quiet.'

Spinning around, Rosalie did her best to not look appalled. "My brother's suggestion does not by any chance say that I am to be involve my Lord?"

"As a matter of fact he did."

Her cheeks flushed and she stiffened slightly. "I see. If you will excuse me my Lord, I believe this conversation is at an end. Good day."

xxxxxxxx

Maya stared at a painting at the far end of the hall where Riley, or Rosalie, asked her to wait while she went inside a room to talk to her brother. The painting is of three men and tried to decide which she found the most attractive. All three were handsome.

She's trying to sit still as she'd seen Riles do the last two days but it's never been in her nature. Maya is having difficulty believing that she's not being punk by Riley and their friends but if this a joke, well she had to admit that they are good. Really good. Unfortunately, Maya doubted that the whole thing is just a set-up to punk her. Instead of a joke, she feels that she'd been sucked into a different era. If the clothes, the surrounding, the way people talk and the lack of any electronics and cars are to go by, well, Maya is sure that she just traveled through time and landed way back. She wanted to ask Rosalie the exact date but afraid that she might just go crazy. The whole thing is crazy.

Maya shifted in her seat. Geez, how does Rosalie sit still especially with this huge skirt? Her sides are pinching too because of the corset that Rosalie asked her to wear. Maya feels like she's wearing half of the clothes she owns in her closet with all the layers she's wearing right now. Maya decided that she'll give Rosalie another minute then she'll knock on the door instead of waiting to get introduced. Maybe the brother will know how to get her back home.

Maya was about to knock on the door when she heard the footsteps and turned. She felt the blood drain from her face as she stared at the man in front of her. "Uncle Boing?"

Joshua gazed in utter astonishment at the attractive woman outside the library. "Uncle Boing?"

Maya breathed again. Of course this wasn't Uncle Boing. Josh is in Philadelphia with his parents.

As Maya fought to regain her composure, Joshua's gaze meandered over her simple silk gown, lingering for the briefest of moments on the embroidery around the neckline — or her breasts — before returning to her blushing cheeks.

"I am relieved to see that you are now well, Miss."

"Sorry?" Maya inquired as she regarded Joshua.

"My apologies," Joshua bowed his head slightly, "I'm Joshua Matthews. I was with Rosalie when she found you at the train station. Are you looking for my sister?" Joshua calmly inquired in his deep, husky voice.

Maya slowly wheeled around to face the library door. "Riley, I mean Rosalie is inside. She is talking to her brother."

She watched as her words brought, for the briefest of moments, a look of what might have been mischief to those bright brown eyes.
He shook his head and stepped closer. "I see. Maybe we should join in then?"

Summoning her courage, Maya squared her shoulders. "Sure."

But before they can open the heavy door, Rosalie opened it and blindingly walked pass her and Joshua.

"Lady Rosalie."

Maya gasped. The man that just came out looked exactly like Lucas only older. Actually Riley and Joshua looked a bit older too. Oh God. Is she losing her mind?
While Maya stared, she saw Joshua glowered at Lucas.

"Lucien, what in the blazes happened?" He spoke the English words softly, his accent smooth as silk, though there could be no mistaking the menace in his tone. But it was his words that made Maya bristle. "You better explain yourself Lucien. Friend or not I will not allow anyone hurt my sister."

"I only spoke to Rosalie as you've instructed. But as you said she is direct, I am afraid that I have insulted her."

"You did not call her bluestocking did you?" Joshua asked, obviously attempting to control his temper.

"Matthews!" Lucas' or Lucien's jowls quivered with an indignation. "I am a gentleman. I will not deliberately insult a woman let alone a Lady like that."