by Sue London
Freddie stopped his currying. It was bright daylight outside. Certainly this wasn’t an attempt at an assignation. “Did she? What is she doing at the bridge?”
Henry shrugged. “Didn’t say. She was walking from the house. She might be there by now.”
Even Henry, young as he was, knew that a request from a guest was not to be casually disregarded.
“Can you clean my brushes for me then?”
The boy nodded and took them carefully.
If Miss Flowers wanted his company then she would have to accept him as he was. Sweaty from a day’s work and stinking of horse hide as well.
***
Rosalind looked up from her book to see Marshall approaching. He did not look happy. He looked, in fact, like a man irritated to be torn from his work. His hair was mussed and at some point in the day he’d removed his vest and rolled up his sleeves. She watched him march toward her as though he were about to issue some edict and walk away.
Instead he stopped a foot from the edge of the blanket she was sitting on and asked with acid politeness, “You asked to see me, Miss Flowers?”
Rather than answer him immediately she took her time perusing his form. Although still lean from youth he was solidly built, as one might expect from a groom. She could attest to his strength from when he’d lifted her down from her horse. Finally she asked, “Did you get the book I sent down?”
He crossed his arms. “Yes.”
She smiled. They were having some sort of contest of wills, but she wasn’t certain about what yet.
“Do you read Latin?” she asked.
“Yes, do you?”
“It’s much easier than Greek. At least it is for me. But I rarely read Ovid so you may keep it if you like.”
“A book filled with complaints about men’s betrayals and failures? I don’t find myself so moved.”
Yes, they were definitely arguing. “Is that all you read in it?”
His eyes narrowed and he was silent for a moment, clearly mulling his response. “I don’t know what you want from me, Miss Flowers.”
She closed her book and set it aside on the blanket, rising to her feet. “Then perhaps you should ask me,” she said with a shrug and walked off toward the woods her father had them lost in the other day.
It took a few moments but she heard his footsteps behind her. “Fine. What do you want from me, Miss Flowers?”
She looked over her shoulder and gave him a smile but kept walking. They’d made it no more than three steps into the woods when she felt his hand on her shoulder.
“We can’t do this, Miss Flowers. It is unseemly. You will lose your reputation and I will lose my position.”
She finally turned to look at him again. “But we have so much to gain.”
“You are mad.” He searched her gaze and stepped closer. She was glad to know that he found their attraction to be as irresistible, as immutable, as she did.
She tipped her chin up and this time he kissed her.
Chapter Nine
Freddie couldn’t stop himself. She was so beautiful and she wanted him. She was his siren, his temptation. He would never get enough of her. He moved his lips to her throat and the trembling sigh she gave broke something in him. He was no longer a man but a creature of need. A wolf sensing his mate.
He put her back to a nearby tree and kissed her as though he had every right to. As though she belonged to him. She kissed him back just as greedily. Clothes seemed a terrible imposition as their hands wandered. Her fingers scratched along the linen covering his chest and he needed more. Stepping back he dragged the shirt off and tossed it aside. Her eyes flared in appreciation of his form but he couldn’t stop to glory in it. He needed to touch her, kiss her, possess her.
Her hands on his naked skin were a revelation. She was all soft curves under muslin. If only he could toss aside her dress as easily as he had his own shirt. Her body was made to be worshipped and he would gladly be her supplicant.
When he kissed her throat again she moaned, “Marshall.”
He pulled back and looked into her lust hazed eyes. “Freddie. Say it.”
“Freddie.”
He’d known that his real name on her lips would be too intimate, too binding. But he was hers now, to do with as she wished. “Tell me your name,” he demanded.
“Rosalind.”
Her name was music. Inspiration. He took one of her roving hands and pressed it to the hard length where he ached for her. Setting his forehead to hers he said. “I want you. So much. I can’t have you, but I can give you pleasure.”
There was confusion in her eyes, but when he tugged down her bodice and took her nipple in his mouth she gasped and tightened her grip on him.
“Trust me, Rosalind,” he said. She didn’t need to answer in words because he could feel her surrender. When he tunneled his hand under her skirts she merely sighed and opened her legs for him. He felt powerful, he felt free for the first time in his life. When he stroked her intimate curls she jumped but then tilted her hips toward his hand.
“Rosalind.” His voice was a broken plea and her response was to kiss his throat, his chest. He would never tire of her touch.
He set to pleasuring her in earnest and she sank back against the tree, her hips jerking against his hand. “Oh, Freddie.” Her nails dug into his sides as she gave a keening sob. He soothed her with kisses and gentle touches as she came down from her heights.
She was flushed from her bosom to her cheeks, a rosy testament to her pleasure. Nothing had ever been so beautiful.
***
Rosalind looked up at Freddie and her heart was bursting with love and adoration. “Once we’re married I hope you will teach me more.”
He stumbled back. “We can’t marry, Rosalind.”
“Of course we can.”
He picked up his shirt and put it on again. “No, we cannot. Where would we live? In one of the duke’s stalls? Ask Betsy to move over and bed down on her straw?”
They were arguing again so she pulled up her bodice. “If we had to.”
He ran his hands through his hair. “I just- How can I convince you? You would have to take work in the house, if they would have you. You would have no more fine dresses or books. And that telescope of your father’s that you carry around like a newborn babe? You would never have access to something like that again.”
“Well, I refuse to live half a life! I don’t care about dresses and, well, we will figure something out when it comes to books. We will have my dowry. And through my father I will always have access to telescopes, should I want it.”
He gave a sarcastic laugh and put his hands on his hips. “Your dowry? You truly think it likely that your father will hand over your dowry to a groom? That he won’t disown you?”
Rosalind frowned. “No, he won’t disown me.”
“You give a fair impression of an intelligent woman, but God’s blood. You’re an idiot.”
She crossed her arms. “There’s no reason to be insulting. You don’t know my family. I believe they wish for my every happiness.”
“I don’t know anything about family, Rosalind, because I don’t have one. Is that what you want? A poor, orphaned groom? Or is that the point? Do you want someone that you can lord over because you feel so superior?”
“How dare you!”
But her harangue was cut off by the sound of a man’s throat clearing. She didn’t recognize him, but Freddie clearly did. He straightened and nodded.
“Mr. Ableman.”
The older man scrubbed his chin and looked at each of them. “I couldn’t help but overhear your argument while I was out walking. As could perhaps half the county.”
Rosalind felt herself blush furiously.
“Something I’ve been thinking about lately is that I need more help in setting up my stables.”
Freddie’s stance loosened a bit. “You know Nash and I would gladly come over and help when we can.”
Mr. Ableman continued as though he
hadn’t been interrupted. “And as a man who has to economize it’s clear to me that I can’t just hire anyone willy nilly. It would be convenient, indeed, if it were someone who could help provide an education to my children, as I hope for them to be accepted as gentlemen and ladies when the time comes.”
Freddie’s brow furrowed but Rosalind stepped forward. “Are you offering us a job?”
“Are you the Miss Flowers I’ve been hearing about who assists her father with his astronomy?”
She nodded with a smile. “I’m a regular Caroline Herschel.” The reference went over Ableman’s head as it did most men’s.
“Well, it would certainly be a wise investment for me to hire a couple where the gentleman was good with horses and a man of letters, and his wife was brilliant at the sciences.”
Freddie finally spoke. “Mr. Ableman, I couldn’t-”
“Ah.” Ableman held his hand up, staying Freddie’s comment. “I was going to offer you the position anyway after some time. I’ll just say that Miss Flowers has sweetened the pot.”
Rosalind grinned. “Mr. Ableman, you have made me the happiest of women. But right now I think Mr. Marshall needs to go talk to my father.”
Epilogue
Talking to Mr. Flowers about marrying Rosalind had turned out to be easier than Freddie had expected. Rather than rail about his daughter’s position the man had instead debated him about the true meaning of sophrosyne. And rather than feel like an orphan at his own wedding he’d felt like every servant in the duke’s household was his family. While he’d been debating whether to ask Nash or Thomas to stand in as his best man Reeves had nominated himself. Reeves. The solemn butler had stood with a tear glimmering in his eye during the ceremony and later blamed allergies.
Now Freddie was the happiest of men with the happiest, and most satisfied, of brides.
Books by Sue London
The Flowers Sisters
The Wallflower Way
The Wildflower’s Rogue
Tempted by the Windflower
Haberdashers Novels
Trials of Artemis
Athena’s Ordeal
Fates for Apate
Saving Persephone
Taming Chiron
Pheme’s Regret
Coming Soon:
Justice for Sisyphus
Haberdashers Tales novellas
A Common Christmas
Fortune Said
Sweet Tannenbaum
Haberdashers Nights novellas
Lord Lucifer’s Disciple
Jack Valentine
The Mad Clan
The Enchanted Cave
The Fairy Palace
Chasing Love
Her Reluctant Lord
The Goners
(contemporary)
Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas
Coming Soon:
Written in the Stars
Throw Me Something Mister
Tempting Miss Daisy
By Tammy Andresen
He’s larger than life...
Miss Daisy Frank would never even dare to dream of a match with the Baron of Hartwell. In fact, she’s worried she’ll never marry at all. But deep in her wildest imaginings, if she were to picture the sort of man she wished to hold her in his arms, he might just look and sound a great deal like the baron...which is likely why she can barely look the man in the eye.
She’s too tempting by half...
Lord Cole Hartwell has got the perfect woman chosen for his bride. No, he doesn’t love her, he’s not even sure he likes her, but his family’s reputation requires him to make the match. So why can’t he stop staring at Daisy? She’s the Duke of Devon’s tutor and not at all what he needs in a bride. But she calls to the man behind the title.
Should he follow his head or his heart?
Prologue
Early spring....
Daisy watched her sister’s wedding, tears pricking at the back of her eyes. She was extremely happy for Abigail, who’d leave her position as a housekeeper in the Duke of Devon’s country estate to begin a new life with the handsome horse breeder, Mr. Ableman.
Next to Daisy, her little charge, Lily, tugged on her hand. “It’s so pretty,” the girl sighed.
“What is pretty?” she whispered. Lily was the daughter of the Duke of Devon, who had graciously allowed the girl to attend the wedding with Daisy.
“The wedding,” Lily replied softly.
Daisy smiled, stroking the girl’s blonde hair. “It certainly is.”
“Do you think I’ll marry someday?” Lily sat straighter, looking about the small family chapel.
“I’m sure you will. In fact, I imagine you’ll wed in this very church.”
“Oh,” Lily breathed, clapping her hands once. “That shall be fun.”
“Indeed.” But Daisy’s smile slipped from her lips. She’d been dreaming of her own wedding since she was likely Lily’s age. Now, as a servant in a duke’s home, becoming a wife probably would never happen.
Marriage was possible, of course. Her sister had managed it. As the housekeeper, she’d met the temporary stable master and had quickly accepted his proposal. Soon she’d be moving to a home of her own.
“Will you marry?” Lily asked.
For the first time, Lily’s brother, Michael, who was six and considered himself much older and wiser, frowned at his sister. “Of course, Miss Daisy will marry.”
That made her grin again as she tussled the boy’s hair. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re very pretty,” Michael announced. “Everyone says so.”
“Everyone?” She raised her brows. “Who?”
“The men in the village, John the coachman, Mr. Hamstead the butcher.”
“I know who Mr. Hamstead is,” she answered, patting Michael’s hand. Heat had surely flushed her cheeks. She’d had no idea any of those men found her comely. “They’re about to say, I do. Let’s be quiet now. It’s not polite to talk during a ceremony.”
But she could barely listen as she considered Michael’s words. Granted he was six, but had he really overheard men discussing her attractiveness? And if they found her attractive, would they be open to courting her?
She shook her head. Nonsense.
Whether they would, or they wouldn’t, was irrelevant. Daisy was happy with her life. She loved the children, her job, the family she worked for.
Wasn’t she? She caught herself questioning her own happiness as she sat in this pew.
A quick glance up to the front of the church made her catch her lower lip between her teeth. Her sister held hands with her soon-to-be husband, Rex Ableman. Tall and broad, he held her sister’s gloved fingers in his like they were rare jewels. A treasure to be guarded and protected.
She sighed. In her heart of hearts, she knew she wanted love too.
But in all honesty, she wasn’t certain it mattered. Servants rarely wed, no matter how attractive they were.
The ceremony concluded, and everyone exited the church. His Grace had arranged a small wedding breakfast for her sister and Rex. Though Rex was a temporary stableman in the House of Devon, he’d started his own breeding program for prize horseflesh and the duke was about to be Rex’s partner.
Abigail would soon step down as the housekeeper. Daisy’s heart twisted. Her sister would still be close, of course. But things would change when they no longer lived under the same roof.
Abigail and Rex stood just outside the doors and she kissed her sister as they passed through the line. “I am so happy for you.”
Abigail gave her sister a wide smile. “Be happy for us. This means changes for you too.”
Changes? What sort of changes?
But she didn’t have a chance to ask before the next guest stepped up to Abigail.
Still, Daisy’s thoughts were full as she and the children walked back to the main house. They could have taken the carriage, but in her time working with them, she’d learned that exercise made for well-behaved children
and so they followed a path along the river that would wind its way back to the Devon estate.
They’d arrive in plenty of time for the breakfast and merriment.
Daisy stopped as the children ran ahead, looking at the blue sky above. It had rained two nights prior, the sort of torrential downpour that had the river running quickly, bubbling and gurgling as it traveled through the countryside.
But her eyes were cast up to the sky as she said a silent prayer. “Help me find my future, please.”
In answer, she heard a splash as though something heavy had landed in the water. It was followed almost instantly by a scream.
Her gaze snapped back to the river, her breath seizing in her chest as her heart raced. Lily still stood on the bank, but Michael was nowhere to be seen.
“Michael?” she screamed, lifting her skirts and racing toward the bank.
Lily pointed a silent finger toward the water where Michael’s head popped out of the surface. But he was fifteen feet or more from where Lily now stood, and the river carried him faster than Daisy ever imagined possible.
“Michael,” she yelled again, racing past Lily. “Don’t move,” she cried to the girl as she pushed herself to accelerate her pace along the bank.
She could barely keep up as her lungs and legs burned with the effort. The boy’s head bobbed in and out of the water, his eyes wild with fear.
She was gasping for breath but if she could just get ahead of him, she might be able to jump into the water. Surely, she could touch and be able to pull them both out. Normally the water only came to her knees.
But just before she jumped, the sound of pounding horse hooves drowned out even the river and a giant stallion whooshed by her. Her hair blew in the breeze the huge beast created and she froze again, staring in disbelief at the powerful animal and the man holding the reins.
The rider looked larger than life seated atop the great beast with his broad shoulders and dark hair whipping in the wind. The horse jumped headlong into the water and when both rider and animal emerged, the man held Michael by the scruff of the collar, the boy dangling from one massive fist.
She let out a scream of her own, relief and lingering fear stilling her feet as the animal turned in the water and all three made their way back onto the bank.
