The Pleasure of the Rose

by Jane Bonander

  “I have very complete records, sir. I can look it up.”

  “Would you say that in the past ten years, we have collected more rent from that land than it’s currently worth?”

  “I’m sure we have.”

  “Then don’t you think it’s about time we stop? Good God, man, I couldn’t live with myself if I took any more money from them.”

  “Sir, this is highly unorthodox.”

  “But I can do it, right?”

  “Yes. You can do it.”

  “Then make the arrangements, Geddes, and no fanfare. Just get word to them somehow that they no longer owe me rent for that paltry land.” Fletcher got up to leave.

  Geddes mouth lifted into a smile. “I will get right on it. And sir?”

  “Yes?”

  Geddes cleared his throat and tugged at his collar. “I’ll be gone for a spell, sir. Business in Edinburgh, I’m afraid. I’ve…ah, notified the station master to keep you posted on your siblings. He will be in touch with you weekly, if you wish.”

  “Thank you, Geddes. That will be fine.” Fletcher left the library, an uncomfortable weight gone from his shoulders and a pleasant sensation in his stomach.

  • • •

  “It’s been almost a bloody month since we wed and he hasn’t so much as touched me on the chin.” Rosalyn morosely took a sip of tea, then placed the cup on the table.

  “What did you say to him?”

  Fen’s voice was accusatory, and Rosalyn bristled. “Are you saying this is my fault?”

  “Yes,” Fenella said without hesitation. “You must have said something, or he wouldn’t have backed away.”

  Rosalyn exhaled sharply, recalling the exchange the night after their wedding. “Well, I did tell him we would not share a bedroom.”

  Fen glared at her. “Why on earth would you tell him that?”

  “Because he came into my bedroom like he belonged there. He didn’t even have the decency to knock first.”

  “God, but you’re a stubborn woman, Roz. You’re your own worst enemy, I swear.”

  Rosalyn broke a honey cake in two, biting into one of the halves. “I just didn’t want him to think he could do whatever he pleased.”

  “Good lord, Roz. He’s toying with you, love. You set the rules, and he’s playing by them, knowing that eventually you’ll give in. I would bet you a bottle of good champagne that he’s doing this intentionally, reveling in the fact that he’s making you squirm.”

  Rosalyn thought about their conversation regarding the mare. “I do believe you might be right, Fen.”

  “Of course I’m right.”

  “But, what shall I do about it?”

  “If it were me, I would crawl into his bed and surprise him. And I wouldn’t have a stitch of clothing on.”

  Rosalyn, desperate during the past week, had even thought of that, but she hadn’t done it. “Oh, Fen, I don’t know.”

  “It’s probably what he’s waiting for you to do. He’s tasted your wares, Roz, and he wants them again. No red-blooded male alive could resist that, and he’s certainly a red-blooded male, your savage.”

  Rosalyn chewed on her thumbnail. “I just don’t know if I could do it.”

  “Take a drink to fortify yourself, then. What harm could it do?”

  “Nay, that’s your medicine, not mine. Remember, when I drink I get sleepy and intimacy is the furthest thing from my mind.”

  “Aye, that might be so, but things can’t go on this way—you know that as well as I.”

  She had to do something; she was actually getting desperate.

  • • •

  Geddes carefully packed a satchel. God, he hated lying! But he wanted the duke and Rosalyn to have some time alone, some time to get to know one another without the anticipation of the children’s arrival. And they would be here soon enough. That was his mission. He was going to collect them himself.

  There was a soft knock on the door.

  “Enter.”

  Rosalyn opened the door and stepped into the room. “Where are you going?”

  He fussed with the clothing in his wardrobe so he wouldn’t have to look at her. She always knew when he was lying. “I have some of the duke’s business in Edinburgh. I’ll be back in a few weeks.”

  “Is he going with you?”

  He turned from the wardrobe at the hint of concern in her voice. Her face was carefully masked, but he knew her, too. She was worried. “It isn’t necessary. I didn’t think it was a good time to tear him away from here.”

  Her gaze dropped to the floor. “Because of me.”

  “Rosalyn, you need some time alone with him. I haven’t seen the two of you together other than at meals, and frankly, I’m beginning to worry.”

  She picked at her apron. “He hasn’t come to me, brother.”

  Geddes knew this was a hard thing for her to admit. “Then perhaps it’s time you go to him.”

  “That’s what Fen said, too.”

  “Good God, Rosalyn, is there nothing you don’t discuss with that woman?”

  Rosalyn met his gaze, hers resolute. “No. She’s my friend and I trust her with my life.”

  He crossed to where she stood and lifted her chin. “Whatever you think the duke is, he’s a fine man. Aye, he has a lot to learn, but he is intelligent and, above all, he is fair. You will not believe what he has asked me to do.”

  Her eyes were wide, eager. “What?”

  “He learned that the poor crofters pay him rent for their pitiful plots of land and has told me to stop collecting them.”

  Rosalyn’s face expressed shock and surprise. “Can he do that?”

  “Of course, he can do whatever he wishes. It’s a most generous idea, but the more I think about it, the more I feel we should come to a compromise. Simply giving them the land seems irresponsible. I believe they should pay something, perhaps just a pittance.”

  “Aye,” she said. “They are poor, but they are also proud. Will you explain this to him?”

  “Perhaps you can.” He lifted an eyebrow. “It will give you an excuse to go to him.”

  She opened her mouth as if to argue, but instead said, “I wonder what brought him to that decision.”

  “It undoubtedly goes back to his roots. He’s quite aware of how it is to live in poverty. I assume the thought of him having so much and the crofters having so little appalled him.”

  She moved toward the door. “It will be quiet around here without you.”

  “All the better. When I return, I will expect things to have changed between you, Rosalyn. Don’t disappoint me.”

  She bristled slightly. “Remember, what you expect takes two—I cannot do it alone.”

  “Then do something about it.” He picked up his satchel and followed her out into the hall. He left her, went outside, and called for his gig. He needed to let someone know his mission, and since he didn’t want to tell either Rosalyn or the duke, he took the worn path to Fenella Begley’s cottage. Oddly, his heart beat fast in anticipation of seeing her again. Her remark about someone else’s blood on her uniform the day she was married gave him pause, and he’d thought of her frequently.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Fenella had just finished tending a youngster with a deep gash. She had sent him on his way when she spotted Geddes’s gig coming up the path. Never one to particularly care about her appearance, she astonished herself by rushing to the mirror and running her fingers through her hair. His surprise appearance rattled her, but by the time she heard him at the door she was calm. Or she appeared to be, at any rate. She could not imagine what he wanted.

  She opened the door and nodded a greeting. He still looked very good to her. No, she hadn’t imagined it. It pleased her that she had to look up at him. She adored tall men. He wore traveling clothes, a smart thigh-length, single-breasted, gray-and-white wool coat, and gray wool trousers. He held his black top hat in his hand. He looked very fine, indeed.

  “Might I have a word with you?” he asked.
>
  He could have more than that if he wanted to, she decided. She swung the door wide, allowing him to enter. “We can talk in here.” She extended an arm toward the salon. As she followed him, she smelled a hint of soap. My, she thought, not only is he finely made, he’s clean as well.

  “I’ll come directly to the point,” Geddes said, accepting a cup of coffee from her and taking a biscuit. “Are you aware of the duke’s siblings?”

  Fenella frowned. “No. He has siblings?”

  “He has two younger brothers and a sister whom he has been waiting for since his arrival.” Geddes put his cup on the table beside him and tugged at his collar. “We had no word, not until the day before the wedding, and then I was informed that they were aboard the Sea Mistress and, should the weather prevail, would arrive at the end of May.”

  Fenella thought a moment. “That would be in less than two weeks.”

  Geddes nodded. “I have not yet informed the duke that they are coming.” He scrubbed his face with his hand and then looked at her. “I do not tell lies, nor am I in the habit of keeping good news from anyone, especially the duke. But…I wanted Rosalyn and him to have some time alone together, some time to adjust to one another without the anticipation of the children.”

  “And Rosalyn doesn’t even know these children exist?”

  Geddes shook his head. “But I don’t think it’s because the duke doesn’t want her to know, I think it’s merely because they haven’t been intimately involved in any sort of meaningful conversation since the day he promised to tell her the whole truth about his past.”

  Fenella understood. There was a strain between the newlyweds brought on by Rosalyn’s stubbornness and her miserable history with Leod. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because I had to tell someone where I was going, and I thought perhaps you might keep my secret. And should I not return in a timely fashion, at least there would be someone who would know what I was up to.”

  “So you’re going to simply surprise everyone when you return, is that it?”

  He frowned. “I shall have His Grace notified, of course. I couldn’t very well simply spring them on Rosalyn.”

  “No, not if Rosalyn is unaware of their existence before they arrive on her doorstep. I can’t imagine that she would be upset having the duke’s siblings there, but she might be puzzled that she wasn’t told they exist.”

  He shook his head and gazed toward the window. “I truly feel they need this time together without any disruptions, but perhaps I’ve erred in not telling the duke.”

  “I should think he would overlook your negligence once he saw his family,” she said.

  “That’s precisely my hope.” He stood. “Then I can count on your discretion?”

  “I won’t tell Rosalyn of your secret errand, but I just may intercede on her behalf if I learn that, in another week, she still doesn’t know.”

  “I hadn’t thought to mention that to him, and now the ferry to Edinburgh is due and I have no time to return to the castle to explain.”

  She walked him to the door. “I think perhaps you’re doing the wrong thing for the right reasons.”

  He turned and gave her a warm smile, one that reached his pale blue eyes. “I thank you for understanding, Mrs. Begley. Oh, and I believe they are sending a chaperone with the youngsters. A woman from some agency that protects children.”

  She enjoyed watching him walk away. He was so tall, so fine. So unattached. She would have to work on that. Although she had been a widow for more years than she was married, she realized that she no longer prized her solitude. It was time to share it. And she planned to share it with Geddes Gordon.

  • • •

  Rosalyn searched out the duke, finding him in the stable. He glanced at her briefly and then went back to his chore. He had shed his shirt and was bare to the waist as he curried his steed. Lord, but he was finely made.

  “To what do I owe this honor, madam?” The stallion’s muscles shivered with delight as the grooming continued.

  Rosalyn swallowed. “Geddes tells me you wish to eliminate all the rents from the crofters.”

  He paused in his chore. “You don’t agree?”

  “I think it’s a fine thing to think of, but these are proud people. Poverty stricken, yet proud, nevertheless.”

  “Yes, but haven’t they been paying for this land forever? I merely feel it should come to an end. It should be theirs to do with as they wish. I don’t need any of it; I’m disgusted about the fact that all of the decent land is apparently mine. I can’t let this continue. For God’s sake, they’ve probably overpaid for the land. It may not be a wise decision, but it’s the one I want to make. It’s the very least I can do.”

  Rosalyn was constantly surprised by the duke. She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a sugar cube, placing it on her palm beneath the stallion’s nostrils. He took it, his soft mouth brushing her skin.

  “You’ll spoil him.”

  She chuckled. “I think you’ve already done a fine job of that, Your Grace.”

  “When are you and Geddes going to quit Your Gracing me?”

  She blinked, her nerves beginning to thrum. “What would you have us call you?”

  “How about My Savage Duke? Or is it My Lord Savage?”

  She gasped as he turned to study her, one eyebrow and one corner of his mouth lifted in wry amusement.

  “I…I mean…it didn’t…I didn’t…” She felt the flush stain her cheeks and neck.

  “You what? You didn’t mean to call me that?” he interrupted, stepping closer.

  “Well, I…” She drew in a breath and decided she couldn’t lie, for apparently he’d heard from someone, God knows who, about how she’d talked of him that first day. She expelled the breath and straightened her shoulders. “Yes. I admit I called you that. Do you know why?” She didn’t give him time to answer. “Because when you arrived, you were wild and savage looking. You had braids down your back nearly to your bum and you wielded a knife big enough to flense a whale. You swore like a sailor and your clothes were unspeakably filthy. You flaunted your big, naked body in front of me like someone who had no sense of decorum. How else would you have me address you?”

  “You have seen a whale flensed, madam?” He was calm, unperturbed.

  “I don’t have to. All I have to know is that it takes a bloody huge weapon, and yours was bloody huge.”

  He gave her a salacious grin. “Why, thank you, ma’am. I’m happy you noticed.”

  She blushed further. “I meant your knife, you oaf.”

  He drew the stallion to his stall, making sure he had feed and water before closing the door. “Did you really? I mean, there we were, just the two of us, and you had stripped me of all my worldly possessions, leaving me naked. Are you really telling me you didn’t notice my bag of tricks?”

  Oh, God. That damned trick bag again. She caught her gaze before it wandered down the length of him. “Are you always this crass?”

  He shelved the curry comb, briefly turning away from her. “Not always.”

  “Then why with me?”

  He turned and gave her a smile, his teeth white against his skin. “Because I enjoy seeing you flustered. It makes your cheeks pink and your eyes glitter, putting so much life into your face that I can hardly keep myself from kissing you until you faint.”

  She stood there, mouth open, unable to respond to his words. But her body responded, sending her blood soaring through her veins.

  He looked around them, his gaze casual. “You know, the stable is one of my favorite places.”

  Was she supposed to answer? God, she didn’t know. “Wh…why is that?”

  He moved a bit closer. “Because I love horses. I love the smell of the stable, the earthy, damp scent of a horse after he’s been ridden. It reminds me of sex. Stallions are very sexual, did you know that?”

  She couldn’t answer. It didn’t matter.

  “Stallions get one whiff of a mare in heat and they’
re ready to mate. To lunge and bite and thrust, every male animal instinct is magnified in a stallion.”

  She was able to gather her frazzled nerves about her, although she wasn’t sure how she did it. “And you’re comparing yourself to a stallion?”

  “I’ve been compared to worse,” he answered.

  “I’ll just bet you have,” she almost whispered, trying to imagine him in his rough days as a youth in the West, where, she imagined, everything was wild and untamed.

  Either he didn’t hear her, or he was simply ignoring her comment.

  “Do you know how a stallion woos his mare?”

  “With flowers and song?” she answered dryly.

  He chuckled and shook his head. “He tempts her with loud, insistent whinnying. Then, with neck curved high and nostrils flaring, he comes near her, his trot jaunty. He struts.” The duke paraded around her, almost preening. “He dances around her, bites her, nibbles at her,” he added, coming dangerously close to touching her cheek with his lips, “and finally, when he’s sure she’s ready, or perhaps even if she’s not,” he said, standing so close their bodies nearly touched, “he mounts her.”

  Her mouth was dry and she took a step backward. “I have seen horses mate.”

  “And it didn’t affect you at all? It didn’t make you quiver in places you’d though were long dead? It didn’t send your heart bounding into your mouth so swift and hard you could almost taste the heat of the occasion?”

  She briefly glanced away, recalling the thrilling bite of raw pleasure she’d had the one time she had, by accident, watched a mating. Truth? Nay. “How did we get off on this subject?”

  “You were reminded that you called me a savage.”

  “And at times I believe you still are,” she countered.

  He laughed softly. “Perhaps I am. But actually, we were talking about the crofters.”

  “Oh. Oh, yes.” She had meant to tell him that they should pay him something, a pittance, for their pride, but after hearing his opinion of the situation, she kept quiet. “Well, I do see your point.”

  “So, we can tell them to stop paying me?”