by Dayna Quince
He mentally stumbled. Shit. He forgot the damned cloak. He peeked out the window again. “I saw a spot of sunshine and changed my mind.”
If she doubted him, she gave no indication. Rose returned shortly and stayed in the parlor while his aunt showed him her roses. Connor didn’t mind. He knew in a few hours his ravaging curiosity over Miss Owens would be appeased.
Chapter 3
Rose waited in the Library, her fingers dancing a merry jig on her lap as the clock ticked by. He was late, but only by a scant five minutes. However, each minute that passed her nerves stretched tighter and tighter.
Did he really have concerns about his great aunt? Rose didn’t understand why he couldn’t just ask Lady Belfrost himself, but whatever the case may be, it wasn’t up to her to tell him what to do. He wanted to meet with her, and here she was, alone, just as he’d asked.
She felt… excited about that. She cursed her foolish ego. He didn’t want to see her. She was the drab companion to his aunt, and he wanted to ask her questions. She’d answer them as best she could unless it felt wrong.
There was a scuff outside the door, and then he entered. Her hands involuntarily curled into fists, so she hid them in the folds of her skirts. She simultaneously hated the plain boring black of her dress but also loved the shield it provided. It served to remind her she needn’t try to impress him, even if she secretly wanted to.
He smiled and nodded in greeting and walked straight to the decanter. He wordlessly offered her a drink. She shook her head. Pouring himself a splash, he took the chair across from her in the small seating area beside the fire.
“Thank you for meeting with me.”
“If you are concerned over your aunt, you needn’t be. She is in excellent health, physically and mentally.”
“I am happy to hear it. But I’m not worried about my aunt, Miss Owens… I’m worried about you.”
Rose sucked in a breath. “Me?”
“Yes, you see, I don’t know anything about you, and my uncle is away much of the time. How do I know I can trust you?”
Rose was taken aback. “You needn’t trust me. Your aunt trusts me. She knows me, as does your uncle.”
“How?” He spread his arms and shrugged. “I haven’t heard one whisper of you in her letters, nor my uncle’s letters. How can I be sure that you have their best interests in mind?”
Rose was affronted and, shockingly, grateful for this direction of the conversation. She had nothing to hide, or at least, nothing he could ever discover himself, and her anger made her less nervous about being alone with him. It didn’t make him any less handsome, but it gave her the nerve to face him confidently.
“I assure you I’m not some vagrant off the street. I’ll have you know that I’ve known Lord and Lady Belfrost most of my life. In fact, if I had been younger at the time of my father’s passing, I would have been Lord Belfrost’s ward. I come from a good family, despite not having any of them left,” she finished angrily. Her cheeks felt hot. She took a deep breath and calmed herself.
“Then why don’t I know you? Why haven’t we met before?” he countered.
“I don’t know. Perhaps you’ve been away more than you realize, abandoning the duty you have to your doting family.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “You think I’ve abandoned her?”
“I think she misses you a great deal, and you care very little about seeing her. I’ve been here almost a year, and this is the first time you’ve visited. How dare you accuse me—”
“I haven’t accused you of anything.”
Rose paused in frustration. “Fine. Perhaps accuse is the wrong word. I was warned about you. Forgive me if I have my guard in place. I didn’t know this private meeting was going to be an interrogation.”
“Warned? About me? By whom?”
Rose bit her tongue. She’d said too much. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
Rose shrugged her shoulders. She wasn’t going to reveal his aunt’s warning. It would embarrass them both. “Whatever the case, you have unfounded worries, and I’m sure your aunt does, as well. Neither of those things affects me. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.” Rose hoped she didn’t sound as dour as she felt about that last part.
He cocked his head to the side and stared at her, his eyes holding so steady that it unnerved her. She felt immobilized by his stare, so much so she wiggled her pinky just to be sure. She lifted her chin higher and stared back.
“I may not have traveled the world as you have, but I did have a season, and circulated in the highest circles of society. I won’t be intimidated by you.”
He blinked. “Do I intimidate you?”
“I just told you that you can’t.”
“I’m trying to understand you, Miss Owens. That is all. If you are indeed the impoverished daughter of a gentleman, why did you become a companion? Why not marry?”
“I’ve been caring for my father, and now I’m in mourning. Husbands don’t fall from trees like apples, in case you haven’t noticed.”
He cocked his head to the other side. His lips twitched. If he laughed at her, she’d have no recourse but to quit the room or throw a pillow at his smug face. What did he think he knew about her life, about what she had endured caring for her father? As if she simply forgot to marry. Oops! Silly Rose, always forgetting to find herself a husband. As if a husband of good family and fortune could be found under a rock in the garden. It was so simple if only she had tried. Wasn’t it?
No. Nothing in life ever was. Her father’s coffers had dried up, her father’s life slipped away just as fast, and then there was nothing. Nothing but her empty stomach and a line of creditors waiting for their due. She had nothing to her name and no dowry to speak of. What husband would want her? God bless Lord Belfrost for having the decency to take her in when he didn’t have to. So here she sat. Did he want to understand her? How could he?
“I don’t know that there is anything I can say to assuage your worries. I’m here at the benevolence of your great uncle and aunt, and I can honestly tell you I have nowhere else to go. I would never do anything to hurt them.”
He sat up and remained silent, those piercing green eyes studying her as if he could see inside her to all her truths and falsehoods. She steeled herself, ready to bolt from the room.
“Poor Miss Owens,” he murmured softly.
She barely heard it, but her brain registered it, and rage filled her. “I don’t need you to pity me, Mr. Connor.” She stood and straightened her skirt with a hard yank. “There isn’t anything I need from you at all.” She marched past him and out of the room.
Gabriel looked after her and said quietly, “You are quite wrong about that, Miss Owens.”
Chapter 4
The Daniel’s had arrived, and as usual, Rose claimed a corner of a sofa and tended to needlework while Lady Belfrost chatted with her guests. She liked this part. She was comfortable on the periphery, but she was still able to hear the latest on-dits without having to participate. She was ignored, and she didn’t mind it at all. Dinner would be announced soon, and still, she would be nothing more than a placeholder.
She could feel the air change when Mr. Connor entered. Rose peeked up from her sewing and watched him greet the guests. He was so carefree. How did he manage that? Didn’t he know there was an unspoken rule that one cannot look so visibly content? It’s off-putting. But Mr. Connor didn’t seem to care. He radiated warmth and charm.
Rose was still annoyed with him, but not enough to ignore the way his trousers clung so tightly to his thighs. Good heavens. He positively strutted when he walked, his energy unrestrained and filled the room as he shook hands with Sir Wallace, their son Mr. Daniel, and bowed over Lady Daniel’s knuckles, wooing her with pretty words to make her twitter with excitement.
He was playing the part of the exciting adventure for them. Rose was sure he was already crafting a daring story to tell.
Dinner was announced, and they
moved into the dining room. Rose took her place beside Mr. Daniel, wishing there were more guests so she could be further from the chatter and less visible to Mr. Connor. She felt his eyes rake over her.
“Good evening, Miss Owens. I did not see you in the drawing room,” he said.
“Good evening, Mr. Connor.” Rose said nothing further and hoped he would take the hint that she was not there to communicate. She thanked her lucky stars he was not directly across from her. The table leaf was removed, allowing them closer seating to converse. Mr. Daniel was immediately on her right, but he had not tried to converse with her. He seemed content to remain quiet unless addressed directly.
Dishes were filled, and the clink of silverware and glass filled the lulls in chatter. Rose paid no mind to their conversation but studiously kept her eyes on her plate. It wasn’t until she heard her name that she looked up. No one was looking at her, so she went back to her food.
Again, she heard her name. She caught Mr. Conner’s glance as he sipped his wine. She leaned forward to observe Lady Belfrost. It had been her voice Rose had heard. She was talking about the rain, which was steadily tapping away on the window. She set her fork down and listened to Lady Belfrost.
“The river Derwent swells beyond capacity, flooding fields and turning smaller creeks into voracious torrents of water. We have a creek that cuts across the southern corner of the property. It’s quite exciting, from a distance, of course. Miss Owens has never seen it. I look forward to showing her. We can make an outing of it, shouldn’t we, Rose?”
Rose didn’t like being addressed so informally in front of others. She liked the polite barrier that separated her from these people. It was a protection of sorts.
“If the weather isn’t too terrible,” Rose said.
She now had everyone’s attention. She could feel Mr. Connors gaze like the heat thrown from a fire, but it was Mr. Daniel who had caught her attention. He looked like he had only just noticed her presence and was pleasantly surprised to find a young woman sitting at his side. Rose wondered if perhaps he was a little dull. She couldn’t remember being properly introduced to him, so she gave him a polite smile and turned back to her plate.
It was only a moment before she heard Lady Belfrost utter her name again. This time, Rose looked up to find Lady Belfrost leaning toward Lady Daniel in deep discussion about Rose. She talked as if Rose wasn’t sitting well within earshot. Rose looked down to hide her blush as Lady Belfrost told everyone at the table about how she came to be here.
“She is very accomplished. It is a shame only I will get to benefit from her many talents. What an excellent wife she would have made for a clever gentleman had tragedy not befallen her.”
Rose ground her teeth together. She wanted to melt into the floor. What was she to do? She couldn’t reprimand her employer in front of guests. She took a sip of her watered wine and tried to remain calm. Should she say something? She must say something if only to appear unaffected. She took a second sip of wine. “I’m so very grateful that you took me in, ma’am.” There. Her voice was calm, and even as she said it, she felt better. She still wanted to crawl into a hole and hide, but she would at least leave the room with dignity first.
Lady Daniel gave her a kind smile, and the conversation moved to a different subject. Dinner was completed, and they moved back to the drawing room.
Lady Belfrost asked Rose to play the pianoforte, and Rose was glad to. She wouldn’t have to talk while she played unless someone chose to approach her. The music filled the room as the guests settled into their seats with drinks. The gentlemen sipped brandy while a fresh steaming pot of tea was poured for the ladies. There was a chill in the room, despite the popping fire in the hearth.
She was surprised when Mr. Connor stood and brought her a cup of tea.
“Thank you,” Rose said. She looked over to where Lady Belfrost sat.
“Would you mind ringing for Glennis to fetch a shawl for Lady Belfrost?” she asked. He nodded and did as she asked, surprising her once again when he returned to the pianoforte.
She decided to ignore him and focus on the keys, but just before she reached up to turn the page of the music, he did it for her. She glanced up at him, trying not to look annoyed but not pleased either.
“Thank you,” she said tightly, “but you needn’t do so. I’m sure you have some exciting story to tell to the guests.
“Of course I do, but my aunt only wishes to speak of you.”
“I beg your pardon?” Rose almost missed a key. Why was Lady Belfrost still talking about her?
“I don’t see how she has anything more to say about me,” Rose continued quietly. “She said quite enough at dinner.”
“Can’t you guess her motives?” He sat beside her on the bench and turned the page again. He must know the piece well because he wasn’t even looking at the book, but he knew to turn the page.
“Do you play, Mr. Connor?”
“Don’t change the subject,” he admonished, and then he set his fingers to the keys and began to play along with her. The music exploded with new life at his touch.
“You are very skilled,” Rose commented. Her breath hitched higher in her chest as his fingers danced over the keys and his arm brushed against hers.
“Don’t tell me you can’t see through her ploy.”
Rose couldn’t even keep her eyes on the music. She wanted to watch his hands while he played.
“I suppose I can’t. Why don’t you just tell me?”
“She’s playing matchmaker.”
Rose’s heart skipped, and thus, she misplayed a key. She ground her teeth and continued to play. He chuckled softly beside her. He had to be fooling with her. Rose tried to marshal her thoughts.
“Why would she do such a thing?”
“Why wouldn’t she? She sees the same thing I do.”
Rose kept her eyes on the keys, ignoring the pages altogether. She didn’t need them. It was just habit to always follow the book. She knew this music by heart, but it was her heart giving her the most trouble at present. It was beating erratically inside her chest. Her cheeks felt scorched by her blush.
“And what is that, Mr. Connor?”
He was silent for a moment, his fingers gliding over the keys effortlessly.
“That you are unhappy, and you deserve more than the life of a companion.”
A laugh bubbled inside her throat, and she swallowed it back down. “I have accepted my fate graciously.” She didn’t like how breathless she sounded or how she felt like she couldn’t catch her breath.
He finished the music with a flourish and stood. “Liar.”
Rose folded her hands in her lap, then thought better of it and began a new song. She ignored him. He wasn’t fazed in the least. He came to the other side of the piano and stood right next to her. He bent over her and turned the music even though it wasn’t the song she was playing. He was pretending for her sake. Why?
“I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Connor,” Rose finally said.
“You’ve given up on living. You wear your black dresses because you’ve ceased trying to be anything else. You are sad, and you don’t want to be anything else but sad. You won’t let anyone convince you to be anything else but sad. You’ve decided to freeze yourself in mourning. What are you afraid of? What would happen if you took off the black dress, Rose? What would happen if you started to live again?”
A wave of emotion rushed her. Rose stopped playing abruptly as tears gathered against her lashes.
“Nothing,” she said. Her throat was thick, but her voice steady. “Nothing would happen. I would still be poor and tragic. I have nothing to gain from changing anything. This is my life now.”
He stood straight. “You’re wrong.”
Rose looked up at him. She held his gaze, glaring at him. She was angry that he would do this to her, here in front of strangers, reducing her to an emotional spectacle. And for what? What did he care what she did with her life? It was on the tip of her tongue to ask.<
br />
A massive boom shook the room as the window burst open. Heart-stopping rumbling followed, like a great angry beast. Rain and leaves flew in on icy breath, and all the candles sputtered to death. There were screams from the women, and everyone cowered on the floor, all except Rose. She stared in wonder at the window. It was like a portal to another realm. She stood and walked toward it, to the chaos and the violence. The wind chased all warmth from her, but she didn’t stop until she stood in front of the window and saw into this new world.
Lightning cracked the sky, flashes of light dancing in the clouds, and thunder roiled angrily. The rain came down in sheets, the wind making it wave and undulate like curtains. It was magnificent.
Rose didn’t know if the dampness on her face was rainwater or her own tears. It was so beautiful, this unharnessed nature. Nothing could stop it. Nothing could change this moment. This storm was its own being, with its own life force, and Rose wished more than anything she could become it.
For now, she could only stand in awe and watch it—because she was the opposite of the storm, trapped, restrained, destined never to change. She wiped her cheeks and looked back into the room.
She met their stunned gazes. “It’s all right. The wind blew it open.”
Chapter 5
Gabriel was breathless. He could admit he’d been scared at first when the window had blown open, but he’d recovered quickly. It was when she moved, so fearless and mesmerized, like she was in a trance, that he lost his wits again. She stood in front of the window, pelted by rain and leaves. Her hair had come undone, long tangles of black flowing behind her. Her dress plastered to her body. She would have been terrifying if she hadn’t looked so achingly beautiful, like a vengeful goddess wreaking havoc on the earth. He moved to the side of the room, closer, so he could see her face.
It was as startling as he thought it would be. Her skin was as pale as snow, her eyes alive with excitement. Gone was poor, sad Rose, and here stood the woman inside her, peeking at the wonder of nature, enraptured by the sheer ferocity of it. She was living, and if only for a brief moment, she was breathing. Gabriel stepped closer. He wanted to know this woman. He wanted to touch her.
