Book Read Free

Taming a Duke's Wild Rose: Taming the Heart Series Book 2

Page 9

by Tammy Andresen


  “Isla, what a delightful surprise. What brings you here?” The two women embraced and then clasped hands as they sat together.

  “My father heard of your father’s injury so William was sent with our cousin Lord Maddox to see how your father fares and offer our assistance. After much pleading, I convinced them to allow me to join them. The more important question is, how are you? Your father injured and engaged to the def…”

  “Please don’t call him that. He is handsome and wonderful.”

  Isla’s eyebrows rose. “Well, my question in answered. And your father?”

  “Recovering, thank the saints, though with everything happening with Carl, the wedding will be sooner than expected. Father thinks that it is the best way to keep me safe.”

  “So your arranged marriage is a blessing?” Worry creased her friend’s eyes.

  “Yes, very much so, though I am still sifting through my feelings.” Rose bit her lip. “Why do you ask?”

  “I… I just… I’m not sure what to do,” her friend stuttered out. It was unlike Isla to be uncertain. A calm capableness always surrounded her friend.

  “Has your father created a match for you?” Isla’s father was the brother to the Fifth Duke of Manchester. While he held no title other than Lord, he was a powerful land owner and ship builder.

  “Perhaps. He has invited several suitors to possibly match me with. He hopes to gain a lumber contract with the union.”

  Rose tried not to audibly gasp. “Married for lumber.”

  Isla’s grimace said it all. “Honestly, is there a worse reason?”

  Rose bit her lip. It was somehow less romantic than marrying for titles or lands, though she couldn’t say that to her friend. “I know it will all work out, Isla.”

  “At least most of the suitors are Scottish. I know they will be more tolerant of my less than traditional upbringing. But honestly, wood? What could my father be thinking?”

  Rose reached out and patted her hand, unsure of how to comfort her friend. Isla thought that Rose was lucky, and she was, for having genuine feelings for the man she was engaged to. But they faced their own issues that Rose was worried they wouldn’t be able to get past. Hopelessness for both her and Isla filled her chest. “Oh, my friend.”

  “Enough about me. I am so happy for you. When do I get to meet this fiancé of yours? Is he really handsome and wonderful?”

  Rose opened her mouth to ask but another voice chimed in.

  “Who are we discussing?” Alex chuckled, flanked by Isla’s brother, William.

  Rose caught her breath. He was relaxed around the Maddox family and it made him even more breathtaking. Isla stood, her glistening raven colored hair catching the sun. Alex quirked his eyebrows and Rose felt a trickle of jealousy. Isla was one of the few women who outshined her. “Your Grace.” She stood as well, her voice held a slight tremble. As a duke, it was well within his rights to reject her in favor of her friend. No one would stop him and Rose would be ruined.

  His eyes left Isla and travelled to her, softening as he gave her a gentle smile. Stepping towards her, he reached for her hand. “Who is this handsome and wonderful man you ladies speak of?”

  “Oh, I, um… what were we talking about, Isla? I’ve forgotten, um…” Her voice trailed off as he gave a small chuckle. She had eavesdropped more than once, she made a mental note not to do it again. It was not fun to be called out.

  “It is wonderful to meet you, Miss Maddox.”

  “You as well, Your Grace.” She gave a small courtesy.

  “Please, call me Alex.” He bowed his head.

  Unease trickled through her again.

  “Alex.” Isla smiled with her blush pink lips and Rose gritted her teeth.

  “Rose and I have obtained the special license and, as long as she is amenable, we will wed in three days.” He glanced at her and she gave a nod. Nothing would make her happier at this moment. “I know it would mean so much to her if you could stay.”

  William nodded. “We would be honored.”

  Isla beamed. “A wedding! We have so much to do. Let’s go pick a gown.”

  Rose nearly laughed out loud. It was most out of character for Isla to want to engage in such ladylike pursuits.

  Rose squeezed Alex’s arm. It had been so generous of him to plan the wedding for this weekend so that her friends could attend. A glowing happiness filled her, jealousy forgotten. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He leaned down so that his lips were whispering over her ear. “You are most welcome, my love.”

  The evening passed slowly as Rose awaited bedtime. It was wonderful to see her friend but anticipation filled her with each passing minute. Finally, everyone began to retire.

  Her lady’s maid looked at Rose as though she had gone daft as she rushed to get ready for bed. As she jumped between the sheets, her maid raised her eyebrows. “Will that be all, Lady Rose?”

  “Yes, thank you.” She burrowed under the duvet.

  Once the woman had left, she threw back the covers and crept to the door. Hearing nothing, she grabbed the latch, pushing it down in tiny increments until it finally clicked open. It sounded ridiculously loud, and wincing, she slowly pulled open the door.

  Alex’s grinning face greeted her on the other side. “I do believe you would make an efficient spy.”

  “You goose.” She stepped into his arms and she playfully swatted at him. “Why did you let me carry on if you had already removed my guard?”

  “You’ve snuck up on me more than once. I wanted to see if I am losing my touch or you are exceptionally good at sneaking around. It turns out, it is the latter.”

  She bit her lip. “Can I tell you a secret?” At his nod, she continued. “When I dreamed of my soldier, I would pretend that I was trapped by a dastardly villain. I practiced picking locks to aid in my own rescue, of course. I became quite good.”

  Both his eyebrows rose near to his hairline. “You’re serious? You pick locks?”

  She nodded again. “I had a lot of time for fantasy. It was fun.”

  “I simply must see this.”

  Holding up her finger to tell him to wait, she scurried back into her room to retrieve a hair pin. With her hair braided, she had no need for them. Then she slipped on a pair of slippers and headed back out of her room. “I can open most any lock but the best is one in the basement. It is what I imagine a jail cell lock would look like and that is the one I would practice on.”

  A rustling noise up ahead had Rose diving into a doorway, pulling Alex with her.

  “Were we seen?” he whispered conspiratorially, playing along with her game.

  “Nay,” she replied. Somehow, nay worked better than no in the game of spies. “Let us hurry so that we might rescue the damsel.”

  He gave a low laugh and Rose turned to him to glare her disapproval. “Shhhh.” She held her fingers to her lips.

  Clearing his throat, he put a serious look on his face. “Lead onward.”

  Making their way down the back stairwell, they moved away from the kitchen, deeper into the basement. On their left was a large, wooden door with a black metal lock. Rose pulled the pin out and stuck it into the lock. Giving it a wiggle, she felt the moment it clicked into place, and giving the pin a twist, the door let go and swung open. She turned toward Alex with a smile of triumph.

  He looked mildly awed. “Impossible,” he said. “There must be something wrong with the lock.”

  Her eyebrows drew together. Pulling the door closed, she handed him the pin. “Perhaps you would like to try?”

  Plucking the pin from her fingers, he stuck it in the lock and then twisted, nothing happened. Trying again, he twisted harder. Still nothing. Looking more irritated, he braced the latch with his other hand. “Why isn’t this working?“ He clenched his teeth twisting harder.

  “Careful, or you’ll break the―“ With a snap, the pin broke off on the lock. Rose sighed. “Allow me.” Brushing his hands out of the way, her small fingers worked the
two pieces of pin, until the door clicked open.

  “Rose, how did you do that?” His hands came to her waist.

  “I drove the staff wild with all my sneaky spy games. But it helped pass the time.” She shrugged.

  He was behind her and stepping close to her body, he laid a kiss on the back of her neck. “I think you might not need a soldier to save you, you’ll be able to save yourself.”

  “I won’t, but thank you. I already needed you to save me from the soldier, remember? You were my brave hero.”

  He gave her a squeeze. “Pray you always feel that way.”

  She turned to look at him. The pensive look had returned to his face. “What I feel for you is far different than any other.”

  While his expression didn’t change, his did quietly answer. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

  She hesitated for a moment and then turned in his arms. “I offer last night as proof. I’ve never let a man so much as kiss me but you…”

  “Well, that is encouraging.” His lips swooped down to capture hers in a fierce kiss. In moments, she was breathless.

  Raising his lips to end the kiss, she rose on her tiptoes to keep the contact from breaking. Gently, he held her shoulders. “Rose, I have to go.”

  “Where?” she cried.

  “I need to fight your battles.” He rubbed his thumb along her cheek.

  “Fight my battles? What do you mean? You’re not going after Carl are you? You could be hurt. Please don’t do this. Once we are married―“

  “Rose. He may try to hurt your father again or he may try to hurt you. What’s more, this may not be the first crime he has committed and I doubt it will be his last. Someone has to stop him.”

  “Was that your attitude in war? What did you do for the Prince Regent? Why would a duke be doing it?”

  “This is a conversation for another time. Try not to worry. All I will do tonight is watch and listen.”

  “But he knows you.” She tried once again to change his mind.

  His face was set, he wouldn’t change his mind. “He won’t see my face. Now go to bed, Rose. I will speak to you in the morning. There will be a guard the rest of the night who will not fall asleep.” He turned her towards her room.

  Huffing a breath, she put her hands on her hips. He was acting like her father and she found it terribly irritating. “Just because I was showing you a game I played as a child doesn’t mean that you need to treat me like one. Send me to bed and you’ll speak to me in the morning.”

  His mouth fell open, surprise lighting his eyes. “Rose, I didn’t mean it like that. But I do need to keep you safe. Let me walk you upstairs―“

  “I can find my own way in my own house, thank you.” Turning on her heel she stomped off. When would they stop treating her like a child?

  Fists clenched, she moved down the hall, stewing in her anger. It was ridiculous. At eighteen years old, she didn’t need to be sent to bed. Her father had not allowed her to participate in a season, they had remained in Norfolk, but women her age stayed out at balls late into the evening.

  So angry as she moved through the main hall, Rose nearly missed the movement from the corner.

  TAMING A DUKE’S WILD ROSE

  CHAPTER 11

  Alex watched her go, sighing to himself. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed again. He wasn’t trying to treat her like a child. But the woman was driving him near mad with wanting. He needed to focus on catching Lundberg and her eagerness only made it harder to resist her. With his lips on her delicate skin, he wanted nothing more than to take her to his bed and not leave for a week or perhaps a month.

  Was she right? If they married would the other man simply give up? Alex doubted it. Carl was bold and brash. Most likely, he would seek retribution for being spurned. It was important that if the man was a criminal, Alex see him to jail for Rose’s sake and the sake of his country.

  But he had best explain to Rose. Her father was overly protective and he risked driving her away by doing the same. He set off after her, moving quickly so that he could catch her before she reached her room. Moving swiftly up the back stairs, he headed toward the entry to move up the main stairwell.

  Rose stood stock still with her head titled to the side, looking at a curtain. He glided next to her and, without uttering a word, she pointed towards a curtain. Alex looked at it, realizing immediately that it was falling at an odd angle. Swearing softly under his breath he looked at her. How had she seen that? He grimaced, putting his hand on her back, he gave her the slightest nudge into the library. She did as he commanded. Stepping in behind her, he crossed the room and opened the left middle drawer where a pistol was stored. Pulling it out, he motioned Rose to hide behind a couch.

  The calm that always filled him when he was about to do battle rose now and he moved deliberately out of the library. He tried to cross the foyer silently, though he couldn’t help but note that Rose would have done it better. Had she had a normal step, this night could have been very different.

  It wasn’t till he was a foot from the curtain that all hell broke loose. A uniformed man threw back the curtain and lunged at him with a knife. He stepped out of the way just in time but the blade raked down his right arm.

  His left hand balled into a fist. He had spent a great deal of time practicing pugilism in his youth and with deadly accuracy he landed a punch square between the man’s eyes. The man screamed, staggered back, and then the assailant fell to the ground unconscious.

  The house exploded with noise as the servants who were still awake came rushing out at the commotion.

  “Your Grace.” The butler’s voice shook slightly as he spoke, his eyes wide as he looked at Alex’s arm. Alex grimaced at him, not because of the pain but because the man was always first to the scene. But his thoughts quickly shifted as he glanced down to see blood dripping from his arm and pooling on the floor. A dull ache started by his wrist but it was a minor nuisance. “Get me some rope, we’ll tie him up and alert the local constable.” Rose came up next to him, her eyes wide. “Are you all right?” he asked her softly.

  “Of course I am.” Her voice shook slightly but her jaw was set in determination. “How are you?” Her fingers gently touched her injured arm.

  “It needs to be stitched.”

  “Get me some hot water, boiled rags, needle and thread.” She turned towards the housekeeper.

  “Yes, Lady Rose.” The older woman bustled off to get the supplies.

  Gently pulling his sleeve back, she assessed the gash, her hands steady. He winced with pain as she pressed the two edges together. “Let’s go in the library.” Her voice cajoled and the corners of his mouth turned up. The wound was not serious but he was rather enjoying her mothering. Considering Rose had just been angry with him, he thought for his sake and hers that he would do as she asked.

  “If you think that is best, love.” He grasped her waist with his other hand and pulled her against his side, her curves fitting perfectly against him. Leaning just a small amount of weight on her, Rose shifted even closer to support him. All the pain was forgotten as the blood rushed from his arm to his member. Sliding his hand down from her waist, he followed the swell of her hip. His teeth clenched and he grimaced. The butler’s eyes widened further and his skin paled but Alex wasn’t in pain, at least not that kind. He longed to press Rose’s hips against his own and his self-control was growing thinner with every passing second.

  Rose began moving him slowly down the hall, while she cradled his injured arm. He squeezed her hip as they moved and she stopped, gasping. “Am I hurting you?”

  “No, love,” he rasped in her ear. It flitted through his mind that he really ought to get hurt more often.

  Moving into the library, Rose slowly helped him onto the settee and memories of the night before rushed through his already lusty thoughts. Her moans, the feel of her skin, the look on her face. He grunted with the effort it took to not pull her body against his. As he lie back, he gave her hand a
slight jerk to seat her next to him, their hips pressed together.

  The housekeeper rushed in with the supplies and Rose gently bathed his wound, then stitched it and wrapped it in fresh cloth. Her hands were the gentlest he had ever known and it only heightened his awareness of her. By the end he was nearly panting from wanting.

  “Are you still going to go tonight?” Her blue eyes, filled with concern, met his and he watched her nibble her lip. He was, but he wasn’t telling her yet. He needed to keep her close for a few more moments.

  “Fetch me a paper and quill,” he rasped. Grinning, she got up and rushed to the desk. She was still only in a night dress and as the fire light danced about the room, he could see her silhouette perfectly under the white fabric. He hadn’t thought he could grow any harder but somehow he did.

  She rushed back towards him, as he admired the front view in the firelight. He penned a quick note saying he would be late and a perpetrator had been caught. Folding it up, he called for one of the stable lads to deliver the message.

  “I’m so glad you’re not going,” she gushed.

  Alex frowned. He would die a slow death if her skin ceased touching his but to lie to her could ruin any trust they had built. “Don’t mistake my note, love. This attack only proves Lundberg is far from giving up.”

  “But your arm!” she cried.

  “Leave us,” Alex commanded softly to the room at large. Quickly, the room emptied and they were alone. “My arm is fine. It’s you that I am concerned about.”

  “You’re hurt, I can see it―“ He cut her off by pulling her body on top of his. As their bodies pressed together from top to bottom, he emitted a low guttural growl and his lips claimed hers. Need like he had never experienced in his life was building inside him and it begged for release. His hand came to her bottom and pressed it against his pelvis causing her to gasp and then moan as she pressed even closer.

  “I’m dying of want, nothing more,” he said between kisses as his other hand came to her hip. Her legs were on either side of his and her nightgown was slowly riding up her legs to her thighs. He dipped his hand down and pulled the hem up, raking his hand along her butter-soft skin. As he pressed a finger to her core, he was met with a lush wetness that nearly made him senseless. It had been too long, he thought desperately. He was losing control.

 

‹ Prev