“What happened to your face?” Carl’s voice grated over her senses.
“A French rebel sliced me with his blade.” Mr. Cross held out his elbow to Rose who slipped her hand into it. He pulled her in closer to his body and a warmth spread through her. It was both comforting and exciting all in the same touch.
“Take your hands off of her.” Carl took two steps closer and Rose shrank closer to Alex.
“Her father requires her presence and has asked me to deliver her. I am afraid you have no right to demand I not escort her.”
Spluttering, Carl moved directly in front of them. The veins in his temple popped out in his rage. Where was the smiling laughing man she had known just days ago? His face was only inches from Alex’s when he yelled. “How dare you tell me I don’t have the right―“
“Carl, please stop,” Rose cried. She did not know this man at all nor did she like him very much.
“Don’t tell me what to do. Never tell me what do.” His face moved directly in front of hers and Rose trembled. Her father never acted this way in anger and she detested it.
In one motion, keeping her tucked against his body, Alex sent Carl spinning away. He turned them abruptly and began walking her toward the house. She heard Carl get up and rush toward them but Alex was ready. He released her hand, swung back around and grabbed the fist Carl was swinging at the back of Alex’s head.
Clenching Carl’s fist in his much larger hand, Alex stopped the punch dead. Carl grabbed at Alex’s forearm to try and get the stronger man to release him. Alex only squeezed harder. His voice was calm as ever. “I must insist that we not fight in front of Lady Rose. If you wish to continue this confrontation, we can do it when there is not a lady present.”
Rose blinked several times. All of Carl’s bluster and anger had been deftly contained by Alex Cross. In every way he seemed stronger, more powerful and, yet, in control. “My father must be worried. Let us return, Mr. Cross.”
“Of course.” Alex gave Carl another small shove as he released him. The guards now hovered on either side of her. Alex turned to the two men. “I will escort the lady. Please see that Mr. Lundberg is seen off the property.”
Without a word, the men stepped to either side of Carl. Rose’s eyebrows rose toward her hairline. “Normally, they only take direction from my father.” She wanted to add that she was never left alone with a man. Why had the guards permitted it?
“Your father considers me a close personal friend. I am sure he gave them instructions to follow any orders I gave.”
“If you are such good friends, why have I not met you before?”
He chuckled and held out his elbow again. She threaded her arm back through his. He tucked her close to his side as they slowly walked back towards the house. “I think I will leave your father to answer that question, in favor of asking one of my own. Do you still hope to marry that man?”
Rose hesitated. “You have deflected my question. If you want me to answer you must share something else about yourself.”
“Very well. Ask away.”
“Did you really receive the scar from a French spy?”
“Yes. He was spying for France and I was employed for the same endeavor but for England. When we realized each other’s identities, it came down to a confrontation.”
“Is the other man still alive?” Rose held her breath.
“I’m afraid not.” His face spasmed for a moment and she could tell it pained him to admit. She bit her lip. Her war hero fantasy was coming unraveled. So was her affection for Carl. The man in front of her, however, was a real hero. Not only in battle but for her personally. He had acted like a true defender of women today. It had never occurred to her that a hero wouldn’t like killing but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. If he could love deeply, then of course he would feel some remorse for taking life.
Rose gave herself a shake. She couldn’t have feelings for Mr. Cross. She was marrying the duke and Mr. Cross was her father’s associate. Her heart was the most ninny-headed fickle thing on this green earth.
“Are you married, Mr. Cross?” The question popped out before she thought it through and she blushed at how forward it was.
He let out a small chuckle. “I am not. Though, I hope to be soon.”
Rose now forgot about decorum and indulged her curiosity. “Are you engaged? Is there someone special?”
He paused, taking a deep breath. “A marriage is being arranged. I think she is wonderfully special but I can only hope she will find me, and my scars, tolerable.”
“Mr. Cross, I find it unlikely that she will only find you tolerable! You are very handsome and strong and…” The words died on her lips as a blush travelled up her cheeks to her hairline.
“Please Rose, continue. It has been a while since anyone has said those things about me and I can’t ever remember hearing them from a woman as beautiful as you.”
“Th-that can’t be true.” She stuttered then took a deep breath. He had aided her in a rather tenuous situation and she wanted to help him now. It was important she tell the truth. “Your scar does very little to diminish your looks. If I were honest, it may even enhance them. It makes you look like the dashing hero you are.” The blush, that had just started to recede, rose again and she looked at her feet to hide it.
He stopped walking. “Rose, your words are a balm to a wound that has festered for a long time.” She peeked through her lashes to see the pain on his face that marked the truth of his words. “I do not refer to the cut on my face but rather the one to my ego that happens every time a woman looks at me with horror.”
She did what she had wanted to do yesterday. She reached up and gently touched her fingertip to the end of the scar closest to his mouth. He winced and Rose softly asked, “Did I hurt you?”
“No, it is only inside that it hurts.”
Her face mirrored the pain he must feel as she gently ran her finger along its length and then started back again. “If I could erase it for you, I would. But truly, it is a testament to the man you are and anyone who cannot see that is blind.”
Her finger reached the corner of his mouth again. He turned slightly and place a soft kiss on the pad of the finger that had soothed the wound. A tingling sensation shot from her finger straight to her core and she caught her breath, inhaling sharply. She leaned closer to him, wanting more but unsure what that was.
He cleared his throat and turned back towards the house. “We must return you to your father before he worries.”
Disappointment coursed through her but she nodded her head and began walking in step with him. She tried to make conversation but words failed her. She turned to look at him several times but his face was an unreadable mask.
They walked through the front doors and her father stood waiting for her. He smiled when he saw them together but then a small frown touched his lips. Rose bit hers. She knew she looked troubled and Mr. Cross’s face looked like it had been carved out of granite, it was so rigid.
Her father cleared his throat. “I was hoping to speak with you about this evening.”
“What is this evening?” she asked completely perplexed.
“Honestly Rose, are you feeling well? It is the local dance that the ladies’ club is putting on. You talked about it all last week.”
Her lips formed an O. She could not believe she had forgotten. After the scene she had just had with Carl, it was the last place she wanted to go. “Perhaps I am not feeling well. Mayhap we should stay home.”
Her father’s eyes narrowed. Suspicion marked his brow. He no doubt thought she had concocted some scheme to meet Carl and that was why she said she didn’t want to go. “You are fine. Go rest now and then get ready. I expect you to be on your best behavior this evening.”
“Yes, Papa.” She itched to tell him that he was treating her like a child. In front of Mr. Cross, no less. But perhaps her antics lately had earned her his distrust. Instead of stamping like a child, she
slowly unlaced her hand from Mr. Cross’s arm. “Thank you for walking me back to the house. Our conversation was both enlightening and enjoyable.”
She didn’t wait for his response as she turned and headed up the stairs.
Alex watched her go and swallowed the lump in is throat. Her hips swayed gently with each step she took. Blond hair cascaded down her back, pulled into a loose coif. It didn’t hide her slender shoulders or tiny waist. Though he couldn’t see it now, he pictured her face in his mind. Every detail was perfection. From her luminous blue eyes to her pert little nose right down to her soft, full, pale pink lips. So delicate. He could feel her burrowing into him as Lundberg had yelled today. It called to something deep inside of him. Her leaning on him for protection.
He gritted his teeth. His feelings were not part of the plan. He needed to remain objective about Rose. He had been tricked by a woman before into thinking he didn’t care about his scar. He couldn’t make that mistake again. It would destroy him.
“What happened?” The Earl’s voice jarred him out of his thoughts.
“Lundberg tried to steal her away again.”
“Confound that man and Rose for letting him into our lives.”
“She has this notion about soldiers being heroes. I think she thought Lundberg would save her.” Alex kept his voice quiet and tried to leave judgement out. While Rose shouldn’t have tried to run from her responsibilities, he thought the Earl was partially to blame. He treated her like a child still instead of giving her the freedom to make choices or take part in the decisions of her life.
“Save her from her father? I love her. I would never choose unwisely for her.”
“Save her from a situation she had no control over. She wants some small measure of choice.” Alex crossed his arms over his chest. The Earl didn’t have to like his words but he wouldn’t back down from them.
“You seem to know a great deal about my daughter for having known her a day.” A note of resentment filled the last statement.
“I simply speak of human nature. At twenty years old, she is not a child. She will resent being treated like one.”
“Your stature does not entitle you―“
“Please, I mean no offense. Today, she let Lundberg go. I would guess for good. I think that is the reason she doesn’t want to go the dance tonight. She doesn’t want to see him. Instead of asking her, you told her what to do, and then sent her for a nap.”
Lord Wentworth crossed his own arms over his chest. “Rose looks like a lamb to you now but she can be incredibly defiant. Tread carefully. You are entering into dangerous waters.”
“For many reasons, I believe you are absolutely right.”
TAMING A DUKE’S WILD ROSE
CHAPTER FOUR
Rose checked her reflection in the mirror. The soft blue of her dress brought out the color of her eyes. Her corset was tightly laced, and her waist looked no bigger than her hand. Her bosom plumped nicely and her hips flared out. Her hair was elaborately done up with ribbons wound through the coif.
A flutter of anticipation danced in her stomach. She looked at the fingertip where Mr. Cross has placed a kiss. Alex. She tried the name out on her tongue. It sounded sweet. He had called her Rose and he had kissed her finger. Why? Did he feel the same pull towards her that she felt for him?
Closing her eyes, she pressed her fingers to her cheeks. She had to stop thinking this way. She was supposed to be marrying another man. Her fingers slipped back off of her cheeks. Her father hadn’t mentioned meeting her intended in days.
It was all they had talked about for weeks. Suddenly nothing. Was he afraid to meet her because of his scars? Her hands fluttered back to her cheeks. Did His Grace feel same about his deformities as Mr. Cross? While she had heard that the duke’s scarring was very extensive, she had told Alex today that his scars didn’t matter to her and the people who judged him were fools. Perhaps she had been foolish as well. She had judged the duke before even having met him.
In her defense, to hear it told, the duke was hideous. Hunchbacked with a mangled face. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought but then she pushed it aside. Alex had faced that same judgement. Perhaps his scarring was far less severe but she saw the pain other people had caused him.
She would try to meet His Grace without judgement but she doubted he would inspire in her the same feelings that Alex had. Deep down it wasn’t the scars that bothered her as much as the fact that she had no control over the situation.
She checked her reflection one last time and then made her way to the stairs. She paused at the top of the curved stairwell. Both men stood waiting for her in almost the same spot she had left them in that afternoon.
Her father was still a tall and handsome man. She sighed a little to see him. Why hadn’t he remarried? It might do them both good if he had someone else to focus on besides her. What would he do when she married?
Her gaze turned to Alex. He looked terribly handsome in his formal attire. It was perfectly cut to suit him, with not a stitch out of place. He looked like aristocracy. He was perfection and the butterflies in her stomach fluttered to see him so.
Her eyes focused on her father again. She would have to ask him when Alex was leaving. She would not fall in love again and he was clearly distracting her. “Good evening,” she murmured as she reached the bottom step.
Both men nodded, but neither spoke. They did not look at each other and they stood a fair distance apart. Rose raised her eyebrows. The two men had seemed very fond of each other only this afternoon. What had happened? Rose, of course, knew better than to ask. So instead, she turned and headed for the waiting carriage.
The somber mood continued on the ride to the hall. Her father sat next to her and said very little.
Growing tired of the silence, she attempted conversation, “It was a beautiful day today.”
“Yes,” Alex replied without elaborating.
“It will be getting cold and rainy before we know it. We must enjoy these days while we still can,” she added, hoping to spark some exchange.
“Yes,” her father agreed.
“How has the harvest been?” Rose tried a third time.
“Good,” he said with no feeling.
She looked up to see Alex studying her intently. His warm brown eyes were sharp with intensity. She flushed a little at his gaze and sat back further in her seat. She had only wanted to fill the silence. She didn’t want to get into an intimate conversation with Mr. Cross. She would have sighed, if it wouldn’t have been so obvious in the carriage. Now, she had to avoid two men at this dance. She could not afford to let her feelings run away with her again and Alex Cross could certainly cause trouble for her.
The carriage rolled up to the front doors. It was a simple building within the village but it was meant for such functions. Her father was the most titled man in the area, though Baron Fairfield lived nearby with his sons. There would be a few town officials, soldiers, and village residents in attendance. She had been excited because it was one of the few times she would be allowed to see Carl.
But Carl did not hold the same appeal after today. His temper frightened her and he had hinted that he cared less about her than he initially let on. He seemed irritated with her rather than excited to begin a future together.
She realized she hadn’t properly thanked Alex for his help today. Carl had physically confronted them and Alex had kept her safe. Her eyes drifted to him again. He was still looking at her. She couldn’t thank him now. Her father would hear. She knew that Alex hadn’t told her father what had happened. If Alex had, she would not have heard the end of it from her father.
The door snapped open and Mr. Cross stepped out, followed by her father. Rose paused. Her father should have gone first. He was the most titled man. Neither man seemed to notice the gaff which was even stranger. Mr. Cross dressed and acted like a man well versed in aristocracy.
Rose stepped into the doorway and her father handed her out
of the carriage. Alex stepped to her other side. At one time, it might have felt stifling to have them on either side of her but today it was comforting.
As they made their way into the doors, a crush of people moved with them. Rose searched for Carl but didn’t see him, which was a relief but then she winced to herself. She would have to face him at some point this evening. This was the part of falling in love that was terribly painful. In addition to being one of the reasons she had to stop allowing herself to act like a wayward child. No more falling in love with every handsome man that passed. It was time she became a person of substance.
Just ahead of her a mother and daughter walked together. Rose caught a snippet of their conversation, “What should I do mother? I don’t know if love him or not.”
“Dear, if you don’t know then wait. The answer will come to you.”
Rose shuddered at the words. How different would her life be if she had her mother still? She was ten when her mother passed.
“Are you cold?” Alex’s warm voice whispered over her ear.
“No, I’m fine. Thank you.” She straightened her shoulders, trying to shake off her melancholy.
His fingers brushed the small of her back. Rose sucked in her breath and turned to look at him. Sympathy filled his gaze but under that was a heat that Rose’s body responded to.
They found an open spot on the edge of the dance floor. Baron Fairfield and his youngest son, Nickolas, quickly joined them.
Rose tilted her head as she looked at Nick. He was handsome enough and his brother Graham, just a few years older was devastating. Why had she never been infatuated with any of them? They were men of her station.
She shook off her thoughts as Nickolas asked her to dance. She eagerly accepted and headed to the dance floor. Nick was an easy and gracious dancer. While he glided her effortlessly over the floor, he didn’t make her heart skip a beat.
She glanced back at the man who did. He was surrounded by a ring of men, all who seemed to be listening to him speak. Even other men seemed to find him irresistible. There was something Rose was missing but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.
Taming a Duke's Wild Rose: Taming the Heart Series Book 2 Page 3
