James sighed heavily and pulled back. “I suppose I’ll join Strathmore and Hawkhurst at the club.”
Rose turned and kissed him softly. “I’ll see you for dinner tonight, then,” she said.
He deepened the kiss, drawing it out until she was breathless and wanting. Slowly he pulled back, lingering, before stepping away.
“Until tonight,” he said and disappeared.
Rose watched him leave, guilt gnawing her insides. She hated lying to him, hated she felt the need to. But it was only once, only to help her father’s business. James never need know.
She gathered several of the gowns from before her marriage and agreed to take the carriage. Rose did plan to visit Vivian and Martha, if only to assuage her own guilt. She’d do that first and pay off the driver to keep quiet—and hope the man was more interested in money than his loyalty to James—and then see her father.
Rose’s visit with her friends was lovely, but too short. They were more interested in who she’d met than anything. Rose almost didn’t tell them James was related to the Duke of Strathmore, but figured it’d keep them talking for hours after she’d left.
Instructing her driver to her father’s townhouse, Rose hesitated. Guilt still gnawed at her, but dread as well. She hated lying but truly saw no choice. One time, just this once, she’d lie to James.
The house felt different—smaller than she was now used to, but larger as well and not in an open way, as if an air of desolation settled over the structure. It hadn’t been long, but the place she called home for years now felt foreboding, empty. Her home was now the townhouse she shared with James.
Robert’s angry voice echoed down the hall from his study. Frowning, Rose swallowed hard and started down the hallway.
Her father stood over a man kneeling on the floor, with pages of plans scattered around him. The man scrambled for the pages while Robert scowled, his burly arms crossed over his chest, and glared.
“Father,” she said sharply. Both men looked up at her, Robert with that same anger and the man, no doubt the new clerk, with fear. “No one can understand what you want if you yell and make them nervous.”
His anger did not abate when he saw her. Rose stepped back, scared of Robert as she never had been before. He looked murderous. As if with one wrong word, he’d attack. Her.
“You should’ve been here sooner,” he spat. “Just because you married this man doesn’t mean you abandon me! Or your responsibilities here.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Actually, it does, Father.”
His hand slammed heavily on the desk, making it rattle. “Rose! You know how I am, and I won’t accept that.”
He stormed out, purposely brushing by her so she stumbled out of his way. “Deal with this man,” he snapped over his shoulder. “I need to get to the building site.”
Seconds later she heard the front door slam closed. Rose sighed and bent to help the clerk, who may not wish to stay after today, gather the papers. Not that she blamed him, as she’d seen her father angry, so furious he barely made sense. Never, until today, had she feared him.
It left a sour taste in her mouth, and she hurried to straighten the plans. The sooner she helped, the sooner she could leave, return to James, and put this entire day behind her.
“What’s your name?” she asked quietly.
“Francis, ma’am,” he said, his voice shaking.
“Francis, in the bottom right cupboard of the butler’s pantry, there are books. You’ll need one of them for the scheduling.” Rose stood and spread the papers on the desk. “Go fetch one, and I’ll teach you how my father prefers it.”
Alone in the study, Rose looked at the mess the men left. This was going to take a while. The only thing she could do was teach Francis as quickly as possible and return home.
If James knew she was there, he’d be upset. Furious, more like. And if he had seen Robert just now, he’d never let her visit him alone again. But James didn’t understand her father; most people didn’t. Unless they dealt with dock workers or laborers, they didn’t recognize the harshness of a foreman.
Rose frowned. James had never witnessed this harshness in her father. If he had, it’d make things even worse. Unclasping her cloak and letting it fall to the desk chair, she moved faster. No, she’d ensure James never saw this side of her father.
The sooner this day finished, the better.
Chapter Fourteen
“I FEEL COMPLETELY scandalous,” Rose admitted with a coy grin over her shoulder. “And I’m certain my husband is quite used to this feeling.”
James chuckled, his breath ghosting over her bare skin. She shivered and debated ignoring the rest of their day and spending it in bed instead. His hands, large and warm, smoothed up her back, cupped her shoulders, and pulled her close against him. His mouth pressed along the nape of her neck, down her spine.
“From now on, the only one I shall scandalize is my wife,” he promised, a whisper against the shell of her ear.
“James,” she said and leaned her head against his shoulder. “What will the servants think?”
But Rose didn’t really care. Especially when his hands slipped inside her still-opened gown and cupped her breasts through the chemise. James’s mouth kissed along her neck, and she sighed into his touch.
He walked them to the bed and sat down, his hands on her hips. “They’ll be too dazzled by the dancing rhinoceros I’ll send out to distract them.”
Rose choked out a laugh, her hands on his shoulders, and he grinned up at her. “See?” he said seriously. “I do nothing but protect your reputation.”
James tugged her onto his lap. She raised her hand, fingers grazing his lips, just a touch, the lightest of brushes. “I am amazed,” she whispered.
He kissed her fingers and smiled around her touch. The feel sent warm tingles along her nerves and spread through her.
“It’s a proud thing a man can amaze his wife,” he whispered against her fingers.
Rose raised an eyebrow. Knowing her husband as she did, she knew he meant in the bedroom. “Not simply that,” she said primly, removing her hand.
James grabbed her hand, twining their fingers together as he offered her a disbelieving look. “There is nothing simple about that,” he assured her, his hands tightening on her hips.
“I’m amazed a man who entered my life in such a jarring manner could ever win my affections.” Rose paused, and her voice dropped. “Much less my heart.”
Her heart flipped in her chest at his look. The surprise and happiness he showed. His other hand tangled in her hair and he pulled her down, his lips hard and insistent on hers. Rose sighed into the kiss, her fingers tightening on his.
She cupped the back of his head and deepened the kiss. She hadn’t planned to tell him her feelings, not so soon. They surprised even her, but sitting here, the soft intimacy of the morning, the little touches and light kisses, it felt right to do so.
Rose pulled back and looked at him. His eyes darkened further, but the look on his face remained surprised.
“It seems I’ve done the impossible and stunned my husband into silence,” she whispered, unwilling to break the quiet.
James smiled, a slow lift of his lips that tugged at her heart. Rose brushed her fingertips across his lips and let the silence settle. She was in no rush to break it, perfectly content to let it wrap over them.
“I wasn’t certain this day would come,” he admitted in an equally quiet voice. “I knew affection grew between us, but I wasn’t sure you’d truly allow me into your heart.”
His hand moved to the back of her neck, his fingers warm on her skin. He still held her other hand, seemingly as unwilling as she to break that connection.
“Our start was not the most auspicious,” Rose agreed. She offered a soft, small smile at her words. “But you have shown me more than the man who demanded a marriage. You’ve shown me more than the soldier from your dreams and his lass.” She took a deep breath but didn’t move away. “I tho
ught you mad at first when you explained your reasons.”
James tilted his head slightly now. “You do not think I’m mad now?” he asked, more curious than annoyed.
“Well,” Rose said with a smile, “slightly mad.”
She stopped again and tried to put into words the jumble of emotions she felt. The confusion about his dreams and his actions on their wedding day; the love that had grown between them; the trust that now bonded them.
“One moment,” James said, frowning now. “You said dreams…with a soldier.” His fingers tightened around hers. “I’ve never told you there was a soldier. I’ve never told anyone.”
Rose watched him, at a loss. She bit her lips and struggled to find words.
“I kept that detail private,” he said. “So I’d know if anyone else—”
With her heart pounding, stunned by his words and the realization behind them, Rose struggled off his lap. James released her, and she stood before him. Her gown was only half done up, her hair still a wild mess from his fingers and their earlier activities. She didn’t care as she stared at him.
Cold shock numbed her hands, but that didn’t stop her mind from racing.
“If anyone else…?” She started, stopped, and licked her lips again. “If anyone else experienced your same dream?”
James stood at those last words, but didn’t move to touch her.
“I didn’t,” Rose hastened to say. She swallowed hard and shook her head. “Not in a dream. James, this house is full of things from Scotland, things from the past. Is it so strange I might have a vision or daydream or—” She stumbled to a halt and waved a hand to indicate a feeling she had no words to describe. “I do not know, an imagining?”
“Of a soldier?” he demanded, but his voice sounded hoarse in the heavy silence of her bedroom. “What exactly was your imagining?”
Rose only debated with herself for a beat. She could not tell him; she would skirt the conversation and pretend it didn’t happen. Or she could trust him.
There really was no choice.
“I saw you in a redcoat,” she admitted. “A soldier’s redcoat. I was walking into the ballroom to retrieve a set of candlesticks and when I turned, there you were.”
Rose stopped but James said nothing. Taking a deep breath, she continued. “It wasn’t you. And when I blinked, the vision disappeared. James,” she said and stepped closer.
He didn’t move but continued to watch her in stunned silence.
“You’ve told me so many stories about this,” she continued, but did not touch him. “I’ve talked to the duchess, Lady Octavia, and Miss Annabelle about you; they’ve heard much of your dreams. Is it not logical I simply imagined it?”
“If that’s how you want to see it,” James said in a strangled tone that tore at something in her. He sounded so…disappointed. “Is it not possible there are ghosts from another time? I don’t know.”
Rose didn’t know how to respond, but didn’t disagree.
“Allow me to finish lacing up your gown,” he offered.
Rose blinked up at him. The distance between them seemed much larger now, almost incalculable despite their physical closeness. She didn’t know what to do or say to recapture the quiet of moments ago, the intimacy they shared.
Slowly she nodded and closed the distance. She didn’t nod in agreement to him helping her dress, but in his previous words.
“What if there are?” she asked and reached up, cupping his cheek. “What if somehow…there are?”
She saw the light spark in his gaze and the relief that she if didn’t completely believe that ghost was him, at least she believed him.
“I don’t know if it’s true,” he admitted. “I never did. I don’t know if it’s true that there may be ghosts haunting us.”
“They do not matter,” Rose said with conviction in every word. “All that matters is I believe you.” She paused and admitted, “I’ve fallen in love with you.”
His breath rushed out of him all at once and before she did more than blink, James kissed her. It was slow and soft and made her fingers curl into his shirt. Rose pulled him closer, stood on her toes, and pressed her body against his.
He lifted her just enough to turn them for the bed, to walk her backward those few steps, his lips still tasting hers in that slow, gentle way. James pushed her gown, still not fastened, over her hips, and lifted her from the pool of material. He quickly tugged her chemise over her head and let it fall to the floor as well.
Rose felt no shame or embarrassment standing before him, naked in every sense of the word. She trusted him. Loved him. Wanted him.
His fingers tweaked her nipples, a sharp tug that had her gasping against his mouth. Arousal burned through her like fire and pooled low in her belly.
She tugged his shirt up, pulling back to yank it over his head. Then she leaned forward and kissed his chest. She loved exploring his body, and though now was not the rushed frantic need to touch each other, Rose also sensed it was not the time for leisurely exploring her husband’s body.
Kissing up his chest, her nails digging into his sides, she nipped along his collarbone and felt him shudder beneath her. Rose smiled against his skin then shrieked out a laugh when he picked her up and tossed her into the center of the bed.
He unbuttoned his trousers with quick movements and stretched out atop her. She welcomed his weight, wrapped her legs around his hips, and pressed her wetness to his hardness. Rolling her hips against him, she felt his groan straight through her, a shuddering sound of need and love.
With her mouth on his, Rose pushed his shoulders and rolled them. Settling atop him, her heart beating heavily in her chest, her body aching for his, she guided him into her.
Once fully seated within her, Rose shuddered. Her nails dug into his chest, and her head fell back at the exquisite feel of him. Slowly, slowly, she moved. Opening her eyes, she looked down at James.
His own were dark, half-lidded with arousal. His fingers pressed hard into her hips and he watched her for long, long minutes as she moved.
Somehow his look and the tenderness in his gaze, coupled with the all-consuming need, sparked the fire in her veins. She moved faster, her body just beginning to coil in arousal. His hands cupped her breasts, fingers tugging her nipples until she moaned his name.
One hand slipped between them and he teased her nub. Light strokes that had her gasping for breath and moving faster. Shaking her hair back, Rose forced her eyes open and watched him as she moved.
His fingers tightened on her hip, the fingers circling her nub pressed harder, and she shattered. Rose ground against his touch, riding her orgasm. Still shuddering in his arms, she opened her eyes and met James’s.
His fingers tangled in her hair as he rolled them. Rose tightened her legs around his hips and lifted her hips to his. He slid deeper and she sighed at the feel of him buried within her. Dragging her nails up his back, she pulled his mouth to hers.
James moved then, his thrusts long and hard. Rose felt her orgasm build again and met his every thrust. Nails digging into his back, she bit hard on his shoulder as her climax rushed through her, a fast wave of pleasure. It didn’t take long before he stilled over her, his head thrown back, muscles straining.
He was beautiful like this, when he came inside her.
Breathing hard, she held him close as he calmed, unwilling to let him go no matter how uncomfortable she grew. He eventually withdrew and rolled them, tugging the duvet over them. Rose kissed his chest and closed her eyes; she felt so perfectly content, she never wanted to move.
“Rose, I love you.” His hand tightened around her. “Remember that. Not a dream, not a story from the past.” He kissed her forehead with a long press of his lips. “You.”
Chapter Fifteen
“PERHAPS WE SHOULD start a new habit of having breakfast sent up,” James said.
Instead of the lighthearted comment she expected, he frowned at her across the table. “Why is that?” Rose asked and took a bite
of egg and waited for him to elaborate.
“You’re sitting entirely too far from me,” he grumbled.
She hid a smile and tried to swallow a laugh. “I shall get no rest with you, will I?”
Offering an unrepentant grin, he shook his head and sipped his tea. “Likely not,” he agreed.
Standing, he took his plate and teacup and rounded the table. Sitting next to her, he took her hand and lifted it, kissing the palm affectionately. And likely scandalizing the footman. Rose daren’t look at the man standing by the buffet; then again, she also didn’t mind.
“I must meet for only a moment with Hawkhurst at the club,” he said. James stopped and looked at her. “But I thought, if you don’t mind waiting in the carriage, we can stroll in the park when I’m finished.”
Rose forced her lips to keep their smile. But she looked down at her plate with great interest and forked another bite of egg into her mouth. She didn’t taste it, tasted nothing as her mind raced for an excuse.
She’d promised to visit her father again today and help poor Francis, the newly hired clerk, with more of the paperwork. And if she backed out now, Robert would take it out on Francis.
Her stomach churned, but Rose swallowed the food and carefully sipped her tea. Nauseated, guilt closing her throat and burning her lungs, she forced her eyes to meet James’s.
“I would love that,” she said, and the words sounded hollow. “But I’m sorry, I cannot.” She took in a breath and forced the lies past numb lips. “I have three separate fittings today; it will devour most of my day.”
The egg and tea threatened to revisit her, and Rose hastily swallowed. Her hands fisted in her lap and her heart thudded too fast, too heavy in her chest. But she forced her gaze to meet his and remain steady.
She hated herself for these lies. But James hated when she saw her father, and Rose had promised Robert she’d help. It was not her fault Robert hired the least qualified man for the job solely because he was also the cheapest.
Improper Wedding: Scandalous Encounters Page 11
