“My brother wasn’t a very nice person,” Peter said quietly. He sat forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “I looked up to him when I was a child, although if I’m honest he frightened me a little; but after father’s death, I really developed a dislike for him.”
Rosalind moved her arm and slipped it through Peter’s, resting her hand on his. She knew without a doubt he was telling her the truth, and she felt a little guilty at not believing in him enough. “Annie wasn’t keen on him either,” she said diplomatically.
“She is a good judge of character,” Peter said with a small smile. “I am truly sorry for what happened at the ball; you should not have been put in such a position. I had wanted the evening to end in a completely different way than it did.”
“Lady Joan was offering herself to you,” Rosalind said quietly, ignoring the reference to the conversation they had shared while dancing. She tried to move her hand away, embarrassed that she was so close to Peter and feeling jealousy at the thought of Lady Joan and her husband together, but Peter held onto it and turned to face her.
“I would never have agreed to it,” Peter said seriously, turning to face Rosalind. “I don’t want her; I never have. I have only ever propositioned one woman in a ballroom, and I’m married to her.”
Rosalind suddenly felt a little lightheaded. Peter was inches away from her and staring at her as if he had been starved for months. She needed to speak, but her mouth felt terribly dry. “I’m glad,” she managed to say, but she was sure the words were croaked out.
“Are you?” Peter asked with a smile. He moved his hand to the curls at the side of her face and twisted them gently through his fingers. “I’m pleased to hear that. But I have to ask: why would you be glad? Could it be because you still like me a little bit?” he asked teasingly. He wanted to wrap her in his arms, but the moment needed to be handled carefully. He had upset Rosalind; he was aware of that. He wanted nothing else to upset her.
He watched her closely, all the time gently twisting his finger through her curls. Her hair felt soft and bounced whenever he let go of the curl. Rosalind was looking in his eyes, seeming unsure of what to do, but he was reassured that she was not pulling away from him.
She had not replied, so he leaned a little closer; her eyes opened wider in surprise: her pupils dilated slightly; it gave him courage. “Do you like me Rosalind? Do you want me to kiss you as I promised I was going to? I still want to kiss you; I’ve never stopped wanting to kiss you.” he whispered.
Rosalind flushed a little; this was the time that she should be coy, should not be honest about her feelings, but she could not deceive him. It was probably to do with the relief she felt when Peter explained that he did not have a mistress. Whatever it was, she wanted more from him. “I do like you,” she said quietly. She could not admit she wanted him to kiss her.
Peter’s smile broadened, and he moved slightly closer. “Good because I like you; I like you a lot,” he said quietly before brushing Rosalind’s lips with his own.
Rosalind moaned and leaned into Peter; his lips had set every nerve ending tingling. She wanted, no needed to be kissed. She would blush with embarrassment at her forwardness later, but for the moment, she was desperate for his touch.
A laugh escaped from Peter’s lips before he wrapped Rosalind in his arms and finally pulled her towards him. He pressed his lips on hers firmly, expressing fully through his actions that he had wanted to kiss her for days, maybe even weeks. He should have been gentle, but he was not, kissing her fully, like a man starved.
Rosalind wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck and responded to him by pulling hard on his hair. She had wondered at his slightly longer hair when they had first met, but now she felt how useful it was as she twisted and turned it between her fingers. She did not fight when Peter pushed her back onto the chaise lounge. He knelt on the floor at her side and continued his kisses while his hands wandered along her body.
Peter’s mind was spinning, but he struggled for control; this was not fair to Rosalind. He slowly brought the kisses to a stop and reluctantly pulled away. “Rosalind,” he whispered, kissing along her jawline until he reached her ear, nibbling her flushed skin. “We need to stop.”
Rosalind stilled under Peter’s touch. “Why?” she asked, dreading the response.
“Because I want to go further with you; I want to carry you over to your bed and not leave it for hours, but I made you a promise,” Peter said, trying to be the decent man he was.
“Did you?” Rosalind asked, barely able to concentrate on the existing conversation, but unable to recall previous ones. She touched Peter’s lips with her fingers, gently tracing their outline.
“I promised that I would not force you into relations with a stranger,” Peter said, almost exploding with Rosalind’s touch.
“You aren’t a stranger to me anymore,” Rosalind said quietly, her face flushing, but she allowed herself to voice her feelings.
“Do you know what you are saying Rosalind?” Peter asked, hoarsely.
Rosalind looked at the man kneeling before her. She had been married only a few months, but for most of that time, she had been longing to touch him. She was not sure when her annoyance at the situation had changed to something else; she only knew that it had happened. She suspected that her feelings had changed gradually over the weeks, but it was only today that she had realised just how much she wanted him. She nodded slightly, “I know what I’m saying,” she answered.
Peter kissed Rosalind fully before carrying her over to the large four-poster bed. He lay her down gently but then stood. “Wait there,” he said as he moved away. He locked both doors into the room. “There are going to be no distractions for you, Duchess,” he said, climbing onto the bed next to her.
*
Rosalind awoke and for a moment wondered where she was. Arms wrapped around her, pulling her tightly against a long, firm body. Flashbacks of the last few hours heightened the colour of her cheeks, but she snuggled into the body behind her.
Peter pulled Rosalind closer, “Are you finally awake?” he whispered. “I thought I’d lost you for the night.”
“It’s your fault I’m exhausted,” Rosalind said, thankful that she was facing away from her husband. She was not yet comfortable teasing and being teased, but she was willing to learn if she would continue to feel as she had over the last hours.
Peter chuckled and kissed her neck, “I hope to keep you that way for a long time to come,” he muttered, nibbling her skin and making goose bumps appear across her shoulders.
“Everyone will be wondering where we are,” Rosalind said, reluctantly facing the fact that they would have to leave her bedchamber sometime soon.
“Just a few more minutes,” Peter said persuasively. “Turn and look at me,” he asked.
“Why?” Rosalind asked feeling a little nervous. The situation was all so new to her; she was not sure what the rules were.
“I want to speak to you before we move, and I want to see your face,” Peter said gently. Things had to be said, but he could not let any misunderstanding develop. This time he was not going to risk upsetting her because of careless words.
Rosalind turned. “I’m not so sure I like the sound of that,” she said, trying to deflect Peter from seeing any embarrassment.
“I want to make sure you believe me when I say I will never take a mistress,” Peter started. “I had already decided that when I promised I would not force myself on you, but the statement is even more valid now.”
“Oh,” Rosalind said, surprised, but she felt a warm glow in the pit of her stomach at his words. “But that would have been a very lonely life for you.”
“And you,” Peter acknowledged, wanting to close the world out for a lot longer. He had never had anyone worried about him. He touched her hair, tucking it behind her ear. The urge to be in physical contact with her was a stronger desire than he had ever felt about anything previously. “I didn’t think it was right to expect you to sha
re a bed with me, but I cannot tell you how pleased I am that today has ended the way it has.”
Rosalind smiled shyly, “As am I.”
“There is something I need to ask you though,” Peter said, dreading raising the subject whilst they were sharing a bed, but he hoped that if things went wrong, he could perhaps rescue the situation. “You are a Duchess in every sense of the word, and that means you have a lot of power in the locality,” he started, but paused when he saw Rosalind’s face change.
“I think I know where this is going,” Rosalind groaned, not happy at such a topic being raised after what they had shared.
“You are a beautiful, intelligent Duchess,” Peter teased, nibbling her neck until she laughed. “Lady Joan may want to see you as little as you do her; but if you snub her, there will be others who do the same. Can you find it in your heart to give her the opportunity of apologising?”
Rosalind placed a hand on Peter’s chest. “Was all this part of a scheme to weaken my defences?” she asked, her smile replaced with a frown.
“Good God, no!” Peter exclaimed. “This has happened because you are the most gorgeous creature that I have had the good fortune to marry.”
Rosalind laughed; it was obvious that he was telling her the truth. She had not thought him capable of such action, but she needed to hear it from his lips. “I’ll see her, but it is for our sake not hers,” she said firmly.
“I like the sound of that,” Peter said, his hands starting to explore Rosalind’s body once more.
“What?” Rosalind asked, trying to focus on Peter’s words rather than his actions.
“Ours. I like that a lot.”
The attempt to rejoin the household was delayed further while Peter showed her just how well he liked her words.
*
Rosalind blushed as Peter stood behind her fastening the buttons of her dress, the intimacy was all so new to her. As each button was fastened, another kiss was placed on the skin that was still visible as if Peter was determined to delay their return to the wider household for as long as possible. As he secured the top one, he turned his wife around so that she was facing him.
“I have something to ask,” he said gently, kissing her lips, “But you have to be honest.”
“Oh?” Rosalind said, returning his kisses. She had no idea what had happened to her today; she was sure a feeling like the warmth that flooded through her every time Peter looked at her with that glint in his eyes was good for her health.
“I want to spend my nights with you,” Peter said, looking at her and refraining from kissing her. He needed Rosalind to answer with what she wanted, but he did not want the afternoon they had shared to just be an irregular occurrence. Now he had experienced her, he wanted to spend every moment with her. “I don’t want to have to return to my bedchamber of an evening without you, but I realise that I am rushing things. I half expected you to throw me out of your room when I entered not welcome me into your arms.”
Rosalind flushed, “Not the behaviour of a lady.”
“No, but the behaviour of a Duchess, my Duchess,” Peter said, kissing her gently, reinforcing his words.
Rosalind smiled, her cheeks burning, “I will never become accustomed to that title,” she said. She could not admit that she loved the title being used by Peter; it seemed to mean more.
“You haven’t answered my question,” Peter persisted. “If you want to go on as before, I will respect your decision.” He knew that things had moved very quickly, and he did not want to push things too far, although if she said no, he was determined that he would.
“I can’t imagine going back to being the polite strangers that we’ve been up until now,” Rosalind said honestly.
“We may not know each other fully as yet, but I want that to change,” Peter replied.
“So do I,” came the whispered answer.
“I’m glad,” Peter said, wrapping his wife in an embrace. She fitted snuggly against him, her height meaning that she could rest her head on his shoulder comfortably. For the first time in his life, Peter understood that people could fit like they belonged together. He sighed, content, a feeling that he was unused to experiencing. “I don’t want us to spend a single night apart. Although I can’t promise that you will ever experience a full night’s sleep after today.”
Rosalind laughed, glad that she was tucked against Peter’s body, so that he could not see the immediate response that his words had caused. The thought of being with Peter every night pleased and frightened her a little at the same time. It was as if today had been their wedding day, but this time she was happy at the thought of spending the rest of her life with him.
Chapter 12
The following day Rosalind welcomed Mrs Adams with a wide smile when she visited for morning calls. Mrs Adams looked shrewdly at Rosalind while making herself comfortable on a sofa.
“You have obviously cleared the air with Peter,” the old woman said; it was not a question.
“Yes, we have,” Rosalind replied, turning pink. “It was all a foolish mistake on both our parts.” Rosalind spoke the truth, but she was glad that it had happened, if the last two days were anything to go by. Going to sleep and waking up next to Peter was something that filled every inch of her with warmth and contentment. Peter had been attentive and loving and, although he had not said that he loved Rosalind, his actions had been that of a man in love.
Mrs Adams smiled, a rare sight. “I’m glad; he was foolish, but underneath he is always trying to do the right thing. He has been the same since he was a boy: always polite and considerate, not like Robert.”
“I’ve said before that I don’t think I would have liked Robert if I’d met him,” Rosalind admitted.
“He was a person who thought that the world owed him everything,” Mrs Adams said. “He’s not too different from the rest of the aristocracy, but his overindulgence was impacting too many lives. It is wrong to talk ill of the dead, but I’m glad he’s gone. I always thought Peter would have stayed here and not moved to the farm if not for Robert; he was Peter’s tormentor, and I think the farm was an escape.”
“I have wondered about their relationship,” Rosalind confessed. “I have a thousand and one tales of what my sisters and I did as youngsters, but Peter has never offered similar stories. It can’t have been a happy household.”
“Not since Marianne died,” Mrs Adams confided. “Hers was a sad loss. Speaking of which, where is Annie? I haven’t seen her for days.”
“I shall send for her immediately; she will have missed you,” Rosalind said, rising to pull the bell-pull.
Rosalind invited Annie to join them. Mrs Adams usually called at the end of morning visits: that way she could see Annie when the other visits had stopped. Annabelle joined the threesome, encouraging Annie to tell Mrs Adams what they had been doing while Rosalind was indisposed.
After a half hour, Rosalind ordered fresh refreshments for the group, settling in to enjoy an extended visit with Mrs Adams when Peter walked in. He looked surprised to see the visitor but walked to her and gave her his customary kiss on the cheek.
“Good to see you,” Mrs Adams said, noticing the sparkle in his eyes and the looks that were aimed in Rosalind’s direction. She was comforted to know that her favourite people had come through their first dispute.
“And you,” Peter responded. “Rosalind, I have Lady Kettering and Lady Joan wishing to see you. Miss Latimer is also with the group.” Peter was a little nervous about the meeting even though he knew his wife far more than when he had been last in Lady Joan’s company.
“Oh,” Rosalind said flatly. She had known this meeting had to take place, but was not looking forward to it. “I would prefer to meet them in here, if that is acceptable?” She wanted the support of Mrs Adams.
“I think it best that Annie and Annabelle leave; the room will be quite crowded if they stay,” Peter said. He was aware that Annie upset easily, and he was not sure if the visit would be fraught.
“Of course,” Annabelle said, standing. “Shall we go and visit cook, Annie?” she asked, now an expert in distraction techniques. “I heard that she was baking some lemon cakes.”
“Yes, but Lady Joan gave Rosalind a headache,” Annie said, uncertainly.
“She won’t today,” Rosalind reassured Annie. “But would you save me a cake? I know Annabelle will eat them all given half the chance.”
Annie laughed and was led out of the room by Annabelle. Peter smiled encouragement before indicating to Bryant that he should bring the visitors in. Rosalind sat down, not sure what she was going to face.
The three ladies filed in, and the scowl on Lady Joan’s face increased when she saw Mrs Adams. “Why does she have to be here?” she muttered, but everyone in the room heard the comment.
“She heard the argument; why not?” Lady Kettering snapped at her daughter.
The three sat alongside each other, Lady Joan seated in the middle. Rosalind wondered whether it was to offer support or to make sure she stayed in the room. She offered refreshments, but they were refused.
“Your Grace, my daughter has something she wishes to say to you,” Lady Kettering started.
Rosalind nodded in encouragement, which increased the frown that Lady Joan was wearing. “I’m sorry,” she said, quietly.
“Joan…” Lady Kettering threatened.
“What?” Lady Joan snapped back. “She knows she has won by my being here.”
“It wasn’t a competition as far as I was concerned,” Rosalind said, her voice quiet but strong. “But your conversation was inappropriate and wrong.” She had not relished the need for the meeting occurring, but she was not going to let Lady Joan come into her home and start misbehaving; she had stood enough.
Lady Joan’s eyes snapped in anger. “I still say that it was my title!” she said with a snarl.
“Joan!” Lady Kettering growled at her daughter.
“The title was never going to be yours,” Peter interjected, his tone firm. He felt some sympathy with Joan, but he was not going to stand by anymore while his wife was insulted. “Robert was aiming to return married to someone who had the funds to support him in the life that he enjoyed. He never mentioned any agreement he had with you or your family.”
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