by Micki Miller
It shouldn’t have surprised her, but for an instant, it did. She’d made love with him last night in this very bed, more than once. The wonders of it played in her head. Never could she have guessed such pleasures existed. Yes, she was different now. She had a secret and her secret made her smile.
While she had no regrets, quite the opposite, Rose did not want to feed the rumor mill. Discretion was of particular importance, considering her living situation. His servants would be up soon, readying for the day, moving about the house. She had to be gone before anyone saw her.
She considered waking Burke. No, she’d better not. He might want her to stay. As much as she’d like to, to remain in this house even a minute more was too risky. A glance at the window showed her morning’s first light peeking above the horizon. She needed to go, now.
As quiet as possible, she slipped from the bed and dressed. Once, when she dropped a shoe and it made a light thud on the rug, Burke stirred. She froze in place. She didn’t even breathe. If he woke, even if he didn’t want her to stay, he would insist on seeing her home. All it would take was the two of them being seen by one pair of eyes and her whole world could be destroyed, as well as the carefully crafted world for Ashton and Lewis.
She had to crawl on the floor to find all of her hair pins in the meager light. As best she could without a mirror, she twisted her hair into a knot at the back of her head and stuffed in the pins.
Burke sighed once, adorable in his sleep, before shifting to his side and facing away from her. Seconds later, Rose crept from the room.
Leaving through the front door was far too risky. So, once at the bottom of the broad, winding staircase, Rose wound through the halls making her way toward the back of the still quiet house. As she passed a doorway, the glass panes in the room beyond showed the light of early dawn. It showed something else, too. The room was Burke’s study.
The last thing she should be doing is lingering in this house. Every passing minute inched her closer to scandal. The temptation to know more of this man, however, overruled her good sense. With little more than a quick glance around, Rose slipped into the room.
Fully stocked bookshelves covered an entire wall, save for a narrow set of French doors framing a perfect view of a colorful rose garden. On one side of the room, two wingback chairs covered in sage green fabric sat on opposite sides of a low, round table. The other side of the room hosted an impressive, mahogany pedestal desk. Rose circled the desk, dragging her hand across the top of the sage, tall-back chair behind it.
She caught his scent there, clean, masculine, unique to Burke, she was sure. Rose wondered if anyone else could detect it, or if that was something exclusive to lovers.
A smile touched her lips as her attention went to his desktop. It was busy, but orderly. Three varying sized stacks of papers lay in a neat row across the middle. A crystal pen and ink set sat on the right side. On the left, a small pile of notes.
A noise from above drew her attention. Was Burke awake? A better assumption was the servants going about their morning routines and getting ready for the day. Perhaps Burke’s valet was already in the master’s suite tending to him. Would Burke come looking for her once he saw she had left? Enough of this. It was past time for her to be gone.
Rose walked toward the edge of the desk and was halfway through her next step when she spotted something familiar, very familiar. It was a leaf and stem design done in three shades of green. She’d helped Ashton and Lewis choose those colors, as well as the design. After a quick glance at the door, she tugged the heavy foolscap from the stack.
It was the invitation to their soiree. Rose barely gave it a glance when a thud sounded just above her head, causing her to jump and drop the card to the floor. She scooped it up, intending to tuck it back into the pile where she found it and be gone from this house posthaste. Until the writing on the back caught her eye. Ashton’s handwriting.
Rose read the note. She couldn’t help it. She knew of no personalized messages on any of the invitations they’d sent. And then she read it a second time, forcing aside her denial at the implication. Ashton had a special, very personal matter to discuss with Burke? In an instant, Rose found herself at the edge of a storm-darkened sea, where a colossal wave rolled over her.
No. Oh, no. It couldn’t be. Ashton would not have orchestrated what she and Burke had shared last night. But he had. All she need do is think on recent events, and the truth was as clear as the coming day.
It all made sense now. Her husband had left her at the table the night of their soiree, alone with a man she didn’t know, something he normally would not have done. Then there was Burke’s invitation to have them join him at his home after the theatre. Everyone knew Burke Darington never entertained. Ashton and Lewis had drawn Lady Hortence away from them, again leaving her and Burke to converse in private. The men had arranged it all.
Her humiliation and fury joined forces and raged an uncontainable tempest. The invitation crumpled within her constricting fist before she hurled the ball of foolscap across the room. Rose found the back door and strode home, her anger mounting with every stomp of her foot.
Chapter 9
“How could you, Ashton?” Rose all but shouted after storming into the breakfast room.
She stood across the table where Ashton and Lewis sat in the early morning light, both attired in varying shades of plum with dark neckcloths and crisp, white shirts. A sling supported Lewis’s arm. His color was good and his nearly empty plate attested the return of his appetite.
Rose noticed, and was thankful for, these things only at the very furthest edge of her turbulent emotions. The vibrancy of her wrath diminished everything outside the awareness of what her husband had done.
“Tell me,” Rose raged on. “Did the two of you make a bet on the day and time I would lose my virginity?”
Ashton set his fork down beside his half-eaten meal and stood. When Lewis scooted his chair back to do the same, Ashton placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him in his seat. Her husband then returned his attention to her. He had the gall to look not the least bit sorry. His lack of contrition only made Rose angrier.
“First of all,” Ashton said. “No, Lewis and I did not make any bets in regards to your relationship with Burke. You should know we’d never do anything so vulgar. Second, I spoke with Burke because I could not allow you to live your life a virtual spinster. Third—”
Rose’s hand slapped over her heart. “My life. It’s my life, Ashton, for me to decide. We had a bargain. You had no right!”
Lewis folded his hands and lowered them to his lap. “Rose, dear, Ashton only made the request to Lord Darington out of concern for your happiness. His intentions were all for the good, I assure you.”
“How can you defend this, Lewis? I am utterly humiliated!”
“Rose,” said Ashton. “You’re viewing this from a skewed perspective. Besides, it’s all irrelevant anyway. The fact of the matter is, Lord Darington—”
“Irrelevant?” Rose said, too angry to listen to his excuses. Nothing he said would justify what they’d done to her. She paced the length of the table in short, crisp steps. “Tell me, Ashton. Am I truly so hideous you must beg for lovers as a vagrant begs for alms?”
“Now Rose, that’s not at all the way of things. Do not even think it. I apologize from my depths if my efforts caused you distress. My intentions were only to see to your happiness.”
Stefon strode into the fray before Ashton could say anything more. The normally unruffled servant had a vexed appearance about him, forehead wrinkled, jaw stiff. He stopped just inside the doorway and addressed Ashton.
“Lord Darington is in the front parlor,” Stefon said. He shot a brief but sharp glance toward Rose. “He’s come to see her ladyship.”
“Good,” Rose said with a curt nod. She spun toward the door. “I can settle things with all you arrogant, high-handed men in one morning.”
Rose marched into the parlor, and wilted a tad when she faced Bu
rke. Well, maybe a bit more than a tad.
He swung around as soon as her footsteps sounded on the parquet floor. The anger flashing in his eyes, the harsh set of his focus, and the taut refrain of his stance, stole from her mind the words she’d composed on her walk from the breakfast room.
“Well I see you made it home safely,” he said.
From his surly tone, she wasn’t at all sure if he meant that as something good. The fury radiating from him had her rethinking her stealth exit this morning. Perhaps she should have awakened him, or at least left a note. Thoughts of a note, however, reminded her of the invitation. It reminded her this man had seduced her by way of her husband’s request. Suddenly, Rose’s anger equaled his.
“Yes,” she said, clipping her voice. “It wasn’t too far and I didn’t want to wake you.”
In two long strides, he stood before her. Burke’s powerful hands gripped her upper arms. His expression managed to become even more furious than a moment before.
“You will never sneak away from me again.”
“Let go of me,” Rose said. She fought to jerk away from him, but he only tightened his grip. “Stop this, you’re hurting me.”
The second the words passed her lips, he released her. Burke stepped back and ran his hands through his hair. He did not look any calmer. In fact, the man had the fervid appearance of a boxer ready to leap into the ropes and pummel his opponent to mush.
He swung a fierce glare on her. Rose refused to cower beneath his intimidation. Instead, she raised her chin.
“I only meant to be gone before your servants were about.” She’d grant him an explanation, but not an apology, not after what she’d learned this morning. “I’m accustomed to guarding against gossip.”
“I can handle my servants,” he shot back. “You need not worry about them.” After but a moment’s pause, he said, “And why are you so angry?”
Rose did her best to keep the wrath prominent in her voice, but feared some of the hurt streamed through. At this point, however, it almost didn’t matter. What they’d had was over. Yet, Rose could not stop herself from asking, “Was any of it true, Lord Darington?”
“Lord Darington?”
“Or was it all a script Ashton helped you compose to charm me into your bed, perhaps with some help from Lewis.”
Her humiliation pried into her heart, splitting it in two. She shouldn’t care this much. It wasn’t as though he’d been courting her, as if the future held anything more for them than a secret liaison. Still, the pain was real. More so than his attraction to her had been. All she meant to him was a favor done for a friend. He blurred in the tears filling her eyes before she managed to blink them away. She would not let him see her mortification.
In a gentled tone, Burke said, “Rose, what are you talking about?”
“While I was trying to find my way out a back door this morning, I wandered into your study.” She jammed her hands on her hips and shot him a scathing glare. “I saw the note.”
“What note?”
“You are far too smart to play the fool, Lord Darington. I saw the note Ashton wrote to you on the back of the invitation.”
Understanding smoothed his face and he nodded before saying, “You searched through my desk?”
“I wasn’t searching.” Rose huffed out a breath. “I know very little about you. I was curious. The invitation was sitting right there on top. Well, almost on top. Oh, don’t change the subject.”
“Rose, I declined Ashton’s request.”
“You…How can you say that? Have you forgotten last night?”
His grin was immediate. “If I live to be a thousand, I will never forget last night.” He became serious then. “Rose, what happened between the two of us was because of us, not because of some ridiculous request.”
She longed to believe him. It stunned her how much she wanted to feel confident he was telling her the truth. Now that they’d both expelled some of their anger, Rose had an almost desperate need to trust the sincerity projected in his steady gaze.
“You might have told me about the note last night,” she said.
“You might have given me the chance this morning.”
His point was valid. They both could have better handled the situation. She believed the worst without giving him a chance to explain. From the moment she read Ashton’s blasted note on the back of the invitation, she’d assumed their affair contrived.
If he was telling the truth, such was not at all the way of things. What happened between them was all of their own doing. And if Burke would believe she’d truly left this morning to avoid gossip, and not him, they could leave behind the day’s awful beginning.
At the softening of their expressions, an unspoken truce passed between them. Then, Burke’s countenance changed to concern and he eyed her with critical scrutiny.
“How do you…” He paused and blinked before finishing his sentence in a lowered voice, speaking to her in an intimate fashion. “Are you all right, today?”
She dipped her head a bit and nodded. “I’m fine.”
“When I awoke and found you’d sneaked off—”
“I did not sneak off.” At his stern look, she had to concede. After all, he was correct in his assessment of her exit this morning. In his place, she would have felt the same. Maybe he was right about the other, too. Perhaps what happened between them was indeed genuine. Her heart lightened at the possibility.
“All right,” she said. “Maybe I did sneak off. I assure you, it was not my intention to upset you.”
“I would say the same. Next time—”
“Next time?”
His gaze intensified, became seductive to the point of heating her. “Oh yes, Rose, there will be a next time. And I might just tie you to the bed to guarantee you’ll be there when I awake.”
Her shock tugged his lips into a smile. Rose could but stare at the man. Was he joking? In all truth, she couldn’t tell.
“Don’t look so appalled,” Burke said, before leaning down to whisper in her ear. “You might like it.”
Rose gasped before muttering, “Insufferable men.”
Burke chuckled and the last of the tension dissipated.
“Do you have plans for later today?” he asked.
Ashton entered the room just then and said, “We’re meeting the builder at the property about the new foundling home.” His eyes shifted between Burke and Rose. “Is it safe?”
“I don’t know,” Burke said with a slight grin. “Where’s that pig of hers?”
The two men chuckled.
Rose’s eyes widened. Her mouth opened a moment before she found her words. “That isn’t the least bit funny.”
Their mirth exploded into full-blown laughter. Crossing her arms, Rose rolled her eyes. The men simmered down to chuckles when Stefon strode into the room.
“Your carriage is ready, milord.”
“Thank you, Stefon,” Ashton said.
Rose gave a regal nod to the men. “I will bid you both a good day, gentlemen.”
“My Warrior Lady,” Ashton said, giving her a full bow.
“And let’s not forget Soldier of Indignation,” Burke said, doing the same.
On her way out, Rose shook her head and muttered, “I should shoot the both of you.”
Stefon gasped, and from the corner of her eye, Rose caught his appalled expression. Burke and her husband, however, belted out laughter loud enough to shake the very floor on which they stood.
Chapter 10
Burke stepped from his solicitor’s office and into the yellow slant of late afternoon sun. He tugged on the gold chain fob looping out of his waistcoat pocket, flipped the lid of his gilt and shell watch, and scowled at the time.
He’d hoped to conclude his business much sooner so he, too, might meet Ashton and Rose at the site of the new foundling home. He had some idea’s he thought to contribute. It was half past four. Chances are, they were already back home. He ordered his driver to take him to the Sennett house
. There he would find out what they’d learned from the builder.
And he would see Rose.
His feelings for her both invigorated and disconcerted him. During his meetings of the past few hours, he regularly had to brush back images of her so he could concentrate on the matters at hand. Frederick Ames, his solicitor, had to repeat himself at least twice. The man must have thought him half-drunk, so unusual was his state of distraction.
After settling back against the squabs, Burke huffed and shook his head, as if he could dislodge the prepossession disrupting his life. It should have upset him more than it did. Truth told, having Rose occupy his thoughts pleased him more than it troubled him. He couldn’t help but chuckle at his peculiar state of disarray.
Pride in his stalwart deportment had always been a given. From an early age, his emotions functioned under his guarded control. He was comfortable in his solitude. Life, his life, tolerated nothing that might trifle with his peace and order. He’d been happy, hadn’t he?
At the very least, he’d been content. He had everything a man could want, wealth, title, a solid knowledge of his life’s path. When his baser needs required attention, those too were sated. So why, since meeting Rose, did the notion of ‘more’ keep tugging at his concentration?
He couldn’t say. For the moment, he cared not a whit for the why of it. He only cared to spend time with her. Perhaps, well, more like as not, what they had would run its course and in time they would both go back to their settled lives. To his consternation, the thought saddened him. So, he banished it. Until their feelings dwindled back to their rightful place, he would enjoy every moment of his time with her. And see to her pleasures, as well.
The coachman made a righthand turn and Burke stared out the window at the fine homes rolling by, not quite fast enough to please him. In another minute or so he would arrive at their house, and he would see Rose.
As his carriage rolled up to the Sennett home, a bolt of fear shot through him. A Bow Street Runner dashed from the house, hand holding the brim of his tall hat to keep it from flying off. A glimpse of the man’s red waistcoat flashed beneath his jacket. He was no sooner out the door, when another Runner scurried across the lawn and into the house. Both men bore grave expressions.
