An Inconvenient Arrangement: Rose Room Rogues ~ Book Three

by Callie Hutton

  She had no intention of being anything but the Lydia she’d always been. The Lydia Dante had known. Strong, intelligent, decisive, and most of all, not one to have her head turned by a handsome man.

  Dante and marriage would not change that. Holding her head up, she left the room and made her way to the floor below to the drawing room. Once there, and realizing she hadn’t yet broken her fast, she rang for tea to be sent up.

  She had nibbled on toast and was on her second cup of tea when the drawing room door was opened by one of the footmen and Dante entered.

  Her heart immediately began to pound. He looked wonderful. His handsome face held a slight smile, and the look in his eyes as he studied her added a swarm of butterflies to her stomach.

  “Miss Sanford.” He bowed, then pushed back the hair that was perpetually falling forward.

  She held her hand out. “Mr. Rose.”

  He took the steps to her slowly and deliberately. Her mouth went dry, and she ordered her heart to slow down, lest she swoon. She now faced a different Dante. Not the rake, not her partner in spying, not the man who turned her insides to mush. This man looked serious and in a small way, determined. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning to you, as well.” She cleared her throat, hoping the words would come out without embarrassing herself. “Have you met with my father?”

  He remained standing. “I have.”

  Before she could say anything else, he dropped to one knee and took her hand in his. “Last night was a debacle, sweetheart. Now I want to do this properly. I had never expected to be in this position, so I might do this all wrong.” He stopped and took a deep breath. “Miss Sanford, will you grant me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. She never expected this. She assumed with him making the announcement to all and sundry the night before and then pretty much ordering her to marry him, that this part was over. One more surprise from Mr. Dante Rose.

  She reached out and cupped his cheek. “Yes, Mr. Rose. I will marry you.”

  With one quick tug, he pulled her down to the floor next to him and whipped out a beautiful diamond and sapphire ring from his pocket. She couldn’t help but laugh at his antics as he placed it on her finger. Then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her in such a way that all she could think about was their upcoming wedding night.

  “I thought a special license was supposed to grant you the right to marry early,” Dante groused as he sat in Hunt’s library sipping on a brandy.

  “Stop complaining. Only one more day.”

  “And one more night,” Dante said and scowled. “What I don’t understand is why your wife is shielding Lydia like she’s some sort of Buckingham Palace guard. Lydia and I haven’t had a minute alone all week.”

  Hunt grinned. “Feeling a bit frustrated, little brother?” He stood and added more brandy to both of the crystal glass snifters they held.

  “More than a little.”

  It had been two weeks since he and Lydia had been plunged into disgrace by the guardians of virtue of the Beau Monde. He’d spoken with her father the next morning, received the special license the day after, and then Diana and Amelia, Driscoll’s wife, had descended upon him, swept Lydia away and began wedding preparations.

  He’d only seen his fiancée in passing since then. Hunt and Diana had insisted on hosting the wedding breakfast and declared Dante was to give up his bachelor flat and move in with them while he looked for a decent place to bring his bride.

  He was certain they were afraid he would sneak Lydia into his place and anticipate the vows as so many young couples did.

  If only.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, brother, but if memory serves, weren’t you and your wife caught in a compromising situation that required a hasty wedding on your part?”

  Looking both lofty and guilty at the same time—no easy feat—Hunt said, “That was a different matter.”

  Dante grinned at the pompous arse’s discomfort. “And how is that?”

  “It doesn’t factor since we are speaking of your wedding.” Hunt took a swallow of his brandy. “Do you love the girl, Dante?”

  That brought him up short.

  Did he love her? He desired her, most definitely. Did he like her? Yes. Did he enjoy her company? Few other people kept him as interested as Lydia did. But love? That meant an entirely different sort of commitment. One could marry and enjoy the pleasures of the marital bed, raise children and grow old, but love to him was something frightening. That would mean he’d have to admit to himself that there was one person in his life he could not get on without.

  Hunt continued to stare at him. “I can see from your expression you’re trying to talk yourself out of it.” He stood and stretched. “Don’t bother, I tried it myself and it doesn’t work.”

  With those formidable words, Hunt downed the rest of his brandy, placed the glass on the table next to his chair and walked to the door. “Time for bed, little brother. You have a big day tomorrow.”

  * * *

  Dante tugged once again on his neckcloth. Hunt’s valet, who had insisted on helping him dress, although Dante had been dressing himself for years, had tied the damn thing too tight.

  His brother, Driscoll stood next to him at the altar as they waited for the bride to arrive. He checked his timepiece for the tenth time. Or maybe eleventh, he’d lost count. “Is it some sort of custom to be late to one’s own wedding?”

  “Not if you’re the groom. Then it’s a scandal,” Driscoll returned.

  “How the devil do you know? You’re no more a member of the Beau Monde than I am.”

  “Then why did you ask me?”

  “Boredom.”

  Just then there was a rustle at the back of the church. The door had opened and Lydia’s cousin, Marion, who was her bridesmaid, stepped through and turned to help Lydia enter.

  All the blood rushed from his face to his feet. Thankfully it hadn’t made a stop at his male member which would have been quite an embarrassment with a church full of people staring at him.

  He took a deep breath. This was it. He was actually getting married. A day that in his mind had always brought on itchy skin. Instead, today it only brought him peace at finally seeing Lydia heading toward him, smiling brightly through her veil as she started down the aisle on her father’s arm.

  His bride wore a white satin gown, snug in the bodice and pulled tight around her stomach. The veil on her head covered her face and reached to the end of her gown. He had to smile because based on the Lydia he knew, he didn’t think she chose the ensemble. She was far too practical for that. Most likely his brothers’ wives pushed her into it.

  Sterling handed his daughter over to him with a smile almost as bright as Lydia’s. The man had been almost giddy during the marriage contract negotiations. He had apparently given up on ever seeing his daughter married and settled.

  Instead of linking her arm to his, Dante took her hand and fingers clasped together, they faced the vicar.

  The ceremony was long and boring. Dante wanted to get on with the service so they could have a quick breakfast and head for the hotel where he’d booked a room for three nights. He’d arranged with the hotel to have all their meals delivered to their door since he had no intention of letting Lydia out of the bed and warned his brother not to expect to see him at the club during that time. He’d even kept the hotel a secret.

  Finally, they faced each other and spoke their vows. Dante took the ring from Driscoll and placed it on Lydia’s finger. “With this ring I thee wed, with my body, I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods, I thee endow. In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

  They grinned at each other like a couple of urchins. Then, despite not knowing if it was allowed or not, Dante pulled up the veil covering his wife’s face and tugged her into his arms and kissed her. Long and hard, until the vicar coughed, and several titters came from the those gathered in the church.

  They turned and f
aced their guests and after a short visit to the office to sign the marriage book, made their way down the aisle to greet the attendees.

  Dante smiled and shook hands all the time wondering how fast Lydia could eat her breakfast without becoming ill.

  19

  Lydia climbed into the carriage with Dante right behind her. He slammed the door and tapped on the ceiling to alert the driver. He slumped in his seat and sighed. “Thank God that’s over with.”

  She raised her brows. “Dante, that was our wedding ceremony. I hope you weren’t too bored. I supposed we could have made arrangements to make it more entertaining for you, so you wouldn’t fall asleep.” She hadn’t intended for her words to come out quite so terse, but honestly, ‘twas not promising that the first words one’s new husband spoke when they were alone was to profess his relief that the wedding was over. Did he feel the same way about the marriage?

  He immediately straightened. “Not at all.” He paused. “I mean, yes, if I were to be honest, the wedding ceremony was a tad long. Didn’t you think so?” He smiled his little boy, rakish smile. “Be honest.”

  Gad, she hated how he read her so easily. Of course it was long, boring, and truth be told she was glad it was over. But she would not start off their marriage by agreeing with everything he said. She sniffed and looked out the window. “It was longer than I expected.”

  Dante burst out laughing, reached over and pulled her onto his lap. At least she thought it was his lap. With so many layers of clothing on, it was genuinely hard to tell. He pushed the veil over her shoulder. “Are you even in there? With all this—” he waved his hand around “—clothing, I can barely feel you.”

  Drat, she had to agree with him again. This was not a good precedent to set. “Your sisters-in-law were a bit enthusiastic about having a proper wedding.”

  He smirked. “As opposed to having an improper one? That sounds like a great idea, why didn’t we have one of those?”

  “Dante, stop it.” She couldn’t help but laugh at his shenanigans.

  “At least I can see your face. And lips.” He stared hungrily at the spot he mentioned. Then, wrapping his arms around her he pulled her in for a kiss.

  Good heavens, she thought the one in the church was scandalous, this one had her wanting to remove all the layers of their clothing and feel him skin-to-skin. Whatever was wrong with her?

  She desired her husband, ‘twas that simple.

  He pulled back and nudging the veil away from her ear with his chin, he whispered. “Let’s tell the driver to pass Hunt’s house and go directly to the hotel.”

  She closed her eyes and sighed, tilting her head for better access. “What hotel?”

  He kissed his way across her skin to her face, offering tiny kisses to her jaw, cheeks, and eyes. His lips brushed against hers as he spoke. “The hotel room I rented for three days for our honeymoon.”

  “All we get is three days?” she murmured.

  “And nights.” His lasts words were smothered on her lips and the hunger there sent shock waves through her entire body. “And if things go as planned, Mrs. Rose, we won’t be able to walk after three days anyway.”

  Just as she thought she would melt into a puddle on the floor of the carriage, he pulled back and studied her as he moved his finger over her swollen lips. “Let’s skip the breakfast. The only thing I’m hungry for is you.”

  “We can’t do that.” She placed her hands on his chest and moved him back. His strength, warmth and scent made it impossible to think straight. “Diana, and Driscoll’s wife, Amelia, have gone to a great deal of work.” She attempted to re-arrange herself, since it appeared they drew close to Hunt’s townhouse.

  Dante pushed her veil aside and kissed the back of her neck, nuzzling the space between her head and shoulder. She swatted at him. “Stop that. I need to look presentable.”

  “Presentable to me is naked and lying in bed.”

  She giggled and elbowed him. “If you don’t behave yourself. . .”

  “I never behave myself.” He growled. “You love it, and it’s too much fun not to.”

  The carriage came to a rolling stop and Dante sighed. “Can you at least eat fast?”

  She turned and glared at him. “I expect you to be gracious and your usual charming self.”

  “I shall be so charming the ladies will be falling at my feet.” He climbed out of the carriage and extended his hand.

  Her eyes narrowed. “I have a hat pin in my reticule. I will use it if you are too charming to the female guests.”

  He grinned. “I was jesting.” He touched her chin, his smile fading. “Those days are over, Lydia. I promised you. You are my wife and all I want. And need.”

  Her insides turned to mush, and she felt like telling the driver herself to head for the hotel. He looked sincere, but based on his life thus far, only time would tell if she could genuinely trust a rogue. Although she’d heard for years that reformed rakes made the best husbands.

  But that was usually the case because they fell head over heels in love with their wives. As did Hunt and Driscoll, two other rogues. But Dante?

  “Stop thinking so much, love. Let’s get this breakfast over with, then off to the hotel.”

  It had seemed numerous hours had passed before Dante had finally convinced Lydia that it was certainly proper for them to leave the breakfast and be on their way. They’d greeted the guests, mingled and chatted with glasses of champagne in hand, and eaten the lovely food Hunt’s cook had prepared. Although he’d noticed Lydia barely ate, mostly pushing her food around on her plate.

  Was she as anxious as he was to have this part of the day over? If so, most likely for different reasons than his. Despite her forward thinking, she was still a virgin and had to be a tad uneasy with what came after the little bit of intimacy they’d already shared. Although he hoped Diana had at least given her some idea of what to expect.

  Toasts had been offered, as well as slaps on his back from Hunt, Driscoll and numerous friends. He’d listened to remarks about the parson’s noose, leg-shackling, the end of life as he knew it. Thrown in were some comments not proper for ladies’ ears.

  He’d made his way over to his wife who had long ago shed her veil and her shoes. She waved her hand around as she spoke with her cousin, Marion. At his approach she looked up at him in a way that made him want to throw her over his shoulder and make his way out of the blasted house.

  Now they were finally settled in the carriage on the way to the hotel. Attempting to keep himself under control until they reached their destination, he took her hand in his. “Did you enjoy the breakfast?”

  She leaned back on the squab and sighed. “Yes, it was lovely.”

  “But long.”

  She attempted to look cross, but a smile broke out. “Yes. Long. Just like our wedding ceremony.”

  Lydia smoothed out the wrinkles in her gown. “We spent so little time together the past two weeks, I’m not even sure where we will live when we return from the hotel.”

  He was listening to his wife he assured himself, but he wanted nothing more than to kiss her. It was probably a better idea to keep his hands off her until they reached their destination. Stripping his new bride bare and relieving her of her maidenhead in a moving carriage would not be the most gentlemanly thing he’d ever done. Unfortunately, it would not be the worst thing he’d ever done with a woman, either.

  However, this was not just a woman, but his wife who deserved his respect and not to be treated like one if his lightskirts. He shook his head, still trying to adjust to the wife moniker.

  In answer to her question, he said, “I have looked at a few townhouses to lease. Until we find something, we will be residing with Hunt and Diana. My pompous, arrogant brother referred to my bachelor flat as a dump.”

  “Is it?”

  He thought for a minute. “Yes. I suppose it is.”

  She laughed and he joined her. “Do I get to be part of the decision on where we live?”

  St
aring in her eyes, Dante raised her hand, tugged her glove off one finger at a time, and kissed the soft skin on her wrist. “Of course. That is why I have only looked at a few possibilities.”

  Lydia shivered and he thanked God the carriage stopped. He looked up. “We’re here.”

  He loved watching his wife’s flushed face, and before the hotel footman could make it to the carriage, Dante opened the door and hopped out.

  She took his hand and stepped down. “I should have changed before we left Hunt’s house. I look silly walking into the hotel in a wedding gown.”

  He took her arm and moved her forward. “You would look silly if you were coming from a garden party, but you are arriving from your wedding. Besides, the hotel knows we’re recently married.”

  “How would they know?”

  He whisked her through the front door, held open by an impressive looking footman. “Because I rented the bridal suite and asked for all our meals to be brought to our room.”

  She gasped and drew back. “You didn’t!”

  “I did.” He loved her outrage. Perhaps he could keep her annoyed with him until they made it to bed. Then he would enjoy turning all that anger into passion.

  They checked in, and one of the footmen directed them to their suite on the upper floor. It was a spacious room, well appointed in pale rose and green wallpaper. A very large, very tempting bed took up a good part of the room, covered in a deeper rose and green counterpane.

  The carpet under their feet was plush enough to sleep on. Dante did a quick survey of the room, noting all the places where they could make love. Yes, this would be a wonderful honeymoon.

  Lydia looked nervous. He had to remember he was used to experienced women, but it was his job as her husband to make sure she was relaxed enough to enjoy her first time and look forward to more of his attentions. “Once our bags arrive, you will want to change into something more comfortable.”