A Scandalous Request

by Micki Miller

  He’d not so much as shared a meal with her this day, or even spoken a greeting. His absence should have pleased her. She’d made her feelings quite clear to him, and he’d accommodated her by keeping his distance. Still, a guest in one’s home had a right to expect a bit of civility. Or perhaps she was being unreasonable. It was this isolation, this loneliness and worry, all augmented by her confinement. If she could only take a walk outdoors she could better collect herself. Circumstances and one hard edict forbade even that.

  With her eyes tired from reading, and the aching in her head becoming a nuisance, Rose retired to her elegant suite of rooms. She remained there until the next morning’s sun arose.

  The day was much like the one before. She ate alone, she read, she gazed out the windows, she paced.

  Cora arrived not long after Rose had finished her dinner. Her husband, Claude, was ever so happy to be installed in his new position. Several times, Cora thanked her for seeing to it her husband found employment in the same household so they could be together.

  She and Cora spoke for a little while, which was wonderful. But the poor woman was exhausted, and she still had to settle herself in, so Rose bid her a good eve with a promise to talk on the morrow after Cora familiarized herself with her new settings. Then Rose once again wandered the house alone.

  As was her routine, she often stopped for longing looks outside the windows. Which is what she was doing, gazing into the early night, when the sound of the front door opening grabbed her attention.

  Perhaps Burke’s Aunt Eloise had finally arrived. She’d been so looking forward to meeting the woman, and having someone to visit with. She might even learn a bit more about Burke. Her curiosity had grown in the days since he’d come with his official papers and had her released into his custody.

  As if she were a wild animal cruelly caged, Rose whisked herself in the direction of the foyer. By the time she bounded onto the empress green, marble floor, she was at a near run.

  “Are you all right?” Burke asked, rushing to her. His expression of concern instant. With a sharp glance behind her, he said, “Is someone in the house?”

  Burke was already shoving her behind him and grabbing the pistol from his pocket when she said, “No, no everything is fine.”

  Apparently not convinced, he still gave the hall a thorough scan before pivoting his gaze back to meet hers. The alarm in his sea green eyes faded in slow increments.

  “It’s quite dark out there,” she said. It was the wrong time to ask. The worry lingering in his countenance told her so. But she’d been inside, for the most part alone, for two days straight and she’d had about all the contained solitude she could take. “I’d like to take a walk outside. Surely I’m safe way out here.”

  “No,” Burke said, the harsh word instant and final.

  “No one will even see me, as the moon is almost nonexistent tonight. Besides, there are guards everywhere. I’ve seen them through the windows.”

  In a softer tone Burke said, “I have plenty of men out there at every hour of the day and night. But until the villain is caught, you’re safer indoors.”

  “Just a few minutes, please,” she said, placing a hand on his sleeve. I’ll stay close to the house.”

  Burke’s eyes shifted toward the door, his expression no less grim. He faced her then, and after a glance at her hand, he took a breath and let it out. He was about to say no again, and disappear to wherever it was he went. She could tell. More time alone with her thoughts and worries. If this solitary isolation went on much longer, she would go mad with it. But Burke surprised her.

  “How about a game of whist?” he said.

  Withdrawing her hand, she said, “Whist?”

  “Do you play?”

  “Well, yes. I used to play with Piers and Eddy when we had a guest. But there are only two of us. The game requires four players.”

  “Whist can be played with two,” he said, his voice and expression softening. “Come on, I’ll show you how.”

  Rose walked with him to a small parlor of blues and golds. She’d been in here several times during her wanderings. The parlor was set up to be a game room, with two tables, a small, Sabre-legged tea table with two chairs, and a larger, Sheraton card table with four.

  Burke took a few steps toward the larger table, placed near the window. Then he paused as if to reconsider, closed the drapes, and seated her at the smaller table at the back of the room.

  “Burke,” Rose said, settling into her cushioned chair and smoothing her skirts. “When do you think your Aunt Eloise will be arriving?”

  Burke withdrew a deck of cards from a drawer beneath the table and shuffled with expertise. “I sent word for her to stay home. This trip is too far for her to make, especially since she’s just getting over a bad cold.”

  Rose nodded, hiding her disappointment. She’d been watching through the windows all day, waiting for the woman’s carriage to roll up the drive, and anxious for the company.

  He set the cards out for Rose to cut before dealing eight cards face down on the table in the shape of a rectangle. He dealt eight cards face up on top of the face down cards, then a hand of ten cards each.

  “Now you go ahead and bid,” Burke said.

  She stared at her cards, shifting quick glances to the ones on the table, and considered before saying, “I bid high.”

  Burke smiled at her for the first time since this nightmare had begun, and Rose thought him the most dashing man she’d ever seen in her entire life.

  “So, you’re out to win tricks this evening,” he said, his tone teasing, his smile devastating to her defenses.

  After a moment, Rose caught hold of her breath and managed to smile back with a confirming nod. “I am.”

  She won the first hand, but he took the next two. When she suggested playing for stakes, he declared with a suppressed grin, he believed she was duping him.

  “How can you say such a thing when you’ve won two of the three hands?”

  “Precisely. You’re luring me in, letting me think I’m a better player.”

  She sighed in dramatic fashion. “Ah, well, perhaps you’re right. Perhaps your whist skills are not at all superior and betting with me would clean you out of house and home. If you continue to challenge me, the next sunrise might well find you a pauper.”

  Burke chuckled. “Fine then. What sort of wager did you have in mind?”

  Rose lifted her view from the table, thinking to look him in the eye while she decided what they would bet. But her eyes stopped at his lips, and memories flooded her head of those lips against her own, then raining passionate kisses over her body.

  The memory of that night set a momentary quiver to her insides, and the room grew overly warm. She had to force herself to look away, lest he see her wonton thoughts displayed across her face. When she shifted her gaze to meet his, however, the simmering heat in his eyes told her he knew.

  They stared at each other across the table and Rose did not doubt he was at that moment sharing her memory of the one heavenly night they’d spent together. She half-melted at the detailed recollection. And then, it was on the tip of her hungry lips to wager a kiss. Could she be so bold?

  Images of Burke, unclothed, heated, strong, trembling with desire for her, made her entire body weep with longing. And then in an instant, it all cracked and crumbled to bits under the memory of his icy anger in the prison that terrible day.

  After everything they’d shared, Burke had no trouble whatsoever believing she’d committed such a heinous act. He’d believed it without question. He’d condemned her without doubt. She shouldn’t have such desirous feelings for this man. She wouldn’t.

  He must have seen her heat cool, for his drained from his gaze. Burke glanced away. Did she see regret? Did Burke have deeper emotions for her plaited within his lust? Were there more to have? What they’d shared in his bed had to be unique, unequalled. Surely not all beddings left one’s heart so entangled.

  But no, that was but a
covetous wish.

  What she’d glimpsed was merely his mind’s effort to maintain civility, not inklings of tenderness, certainly not love. It was clear. For when Burke brought his attention back to her, his blank expression spoke neither tale.

  “My temporary cook baked some apple tarts for dessert,” Burke said, his voice rough. He cleared his throat. “When I passed through the kitchen earlier, they were cooling. They looked quite tasty. I’ve not had mine yet. Have you?”

  “No,” she said, placing her attention where it should be, on the game.

  She would make the best of this situation until she could go back to her own home. Polite, friendly, though not friends. A true friend would not have turned on her so.

  Lewis did.

  Lewis was heartbroken, distraught over Ashton’s death. His mind was not in the right place. Perhaps in time, he might come to the truth. Burke could make no such excuse.

  “I must warn you, though,” Rose said, forcing a light tone. “I do love apple tarts and if we are betting your dessert against mine, I will be at my most competitive.”

  He gave her another smile, this one lacking the enthusiasm of the last.

  And so they played the game, forgetting for a time death’s emissary lurked out there somewhere. Forgetting he’d once believed the worst of her. Forgetting they’d shared something more extraordinary than anything she ever imagined this world had to offer.

  Rose won Burke’s dessert, but when he had them delivered, she was benevolent enough to share. And he was gracious enough to thank her.

  They both yawned at the same time, and then laughed at themselves.

  “Have you had enough gambling for one night,” Burke asked.

  “Quite. I believe I’m ready to sleep now.”

  They climbed the stairs together. Burke joked he would suggest sweets as currency the next time he played at White’s. She replied how he would always know which players tended to win large, as they would be, well, large. They chuckled, more out of tiredness than good humor. He opened her door for her. The fire in the hearth burned hearty and candles lit any potential dark corners.

  “Shall I send for your maid?” Burke offered. He stood before her, both of them just outside her bedchamber door.

  “No. I’m sure she’s asleep by now. Poor Cora was worn out from the trip.”

  “Miranda?”

  “No, thank you. I’m fine.”

  “Very well. Then I’ll bid you a good night.”

  “Burke,” she said when his back was already to her. He cast a glance back over his shoulder. “Thank you for helping me.”

  He faced her then, stepping closer, his expression serious. “It’s the very least I could do after…”

  Anguish tore across his face and it gashed her heart. Was he truly so repentant? It would be easy to believe, looking at him now. She could imagine he regretted the harsh words and accusations he spewed at her that bleak day in the prison. His actions since proved it. She wanted to believe…in more.

  “Burke?” she started, not knowing what to say next. “I…I…”

  Burke almost kissed her then. He wanted her bad enough to hurl his honorable vow into the flames burning high within the hearth. Rose was lovely, and sweet and strong. And if he lived to be a thousand, he would never forget her rousing passion, the feel of her gift in his arms.

  His lust and his integrity erupted into a ferocious battle. His honor grew murky in the dust. Burke bent to her, ever so slightly, a drought-stricken man to rhapsody’s water.

  Rose leaned toward him as his keen eyes darkened with desire. His silent entreaty lured her longings back to the surface. Her eyelids fluttered closed and she tipped her head upward, awaiting his kiss.

  Burke lowered his head, just a little bit more.

  He was closer now. His heat embraced her, even if his arms did not. His breath touched her lips when she stretched up to meet him. And for an eternity, that’s how they stayed.

  It was killing him.

  The lips that had whispered his name in longing dreams were so close to his he could almost garner her sweet taste on his tongue. Burke felt her desire with the same certainty as he felt his own. Shallow breaths gave a provocative rhythm to the rise and fall of her perfect breasts. Her head tipped back, eyes closed, her tempting, peach-colored lips parted the slightest bit. Yes, desire was there.

  Burke teetered on the rim of his honor. His own yearnings had power enough to shove him over the edge.

  In an attempt to block the entrancing vision before him, Burke squeezed his eyes closed. He couldn’t do this to her. He’d given his word. Whatever trust she afforded him was already a fragile affair. If he broke his pledge to Rose to not touch her unless she said different, he might lose her forever.

  And he wanted her forever.

  She occupied his every thought, his every plan. The future to which he’d given very little thought, other than ending the bloodline, had opened like a burst dam. Holidays with children, laughter, shared meals, shared experiences, growing old with her, it all flowed over the desert of his existence.

  Before any of it, though, if he were to have it all, if it was even possible, he had to make things right with Rose. He had to earn back her trust. He had to keep his word. And if he didn’t back away this instant, he’d have her sprawled on her bed within the next hard beat of his heart.

  He jerked back.

  “Good night,” Burke said in a harsh whisper. He spun away from her enticement before what little restraint he’d held on to snapped, and he ruined everything.

  Rose opened confused eyes to see Burke striding down the corridor, as if she was a poisonous snake about to strike. She stayed in place until he rounded a corner and was out of sight. Even then, it was still another minute or so before she could gather enough wits to carry herself into her chambers and close the door.

  In the quietude of her room, Rose reminded herself of the pledge he’d made. He would not touch her unless she said so. Perhaps he had not fully comprehended her desire for him. She certainly had not. A minute ago, she would have given herself to him in every way. She wanted to. Was that not clear? Or, perhaps his promise not to touch her was a convenient excuse to keep himself from the snare of a disastrous involvement.

  That made more sense than she cared to credit, but it was a reason she could not ignore.

  Her reputation was shattered beyond repair. She stood accused of murdering her husband. Even after the capture of the real killer, little would change in regards to her standing. Her name would always be that of the woman who, days after the murder of her husband, ran off to the country to take up residence with another man.

  Sooner or later, someone would find out she had never been friends with his aunt, and that the woman had never arrived at either of Burke’s homes. Society would never accept her in full, if at all. No matter his claims of autonomy, Burke could not be associated in the long term with such an outcast.

  When this was all over, she would go back to the house she’d once shared with Ashton and Lewis. Rose accepted she would spend the rest of her life alone, isolated. The memories of her life with Ashton, and of whatever pleasures she should find here with Burke, would have to sustain her through the rest of her days.

  And so, Rose determined, as she slipped into her lonely bed, she would have as many memories as she could gather.

  Chapter 20

  Burke rode his property yet again, passing and speaking with several of the guards he’d hired. So far, no one had seen anything suspicious. He repeated his warning to the men to stay vigilant. He reminded himself the same, in regards to his unruly lust.

  Last night, he’d come very close to breaking his word to Rose. He should never have spent so much time with her. She aroused him beyond his good senses. But she’d been so anxious to get outside, he was afraid she might do so no matter his order. A wry smile touched his lips. The woman did have a habit of doing what she wanted.

  So, he’d spent time alone with her last night,
something he’d succeeded in avoiding since they’d left London. He could not allow such an instance to happen again. Rose was too damned tempting.

  Burke had no sooner made his pledge, when he rode around the corner of the house to find Rose leaning in an open doorway.

  Her golden hair was tied in a simple knot at the back of her head. She wore a rather ordinary lavender gown, with long sleeves and a neckline topping her collarbone. Her appearance was modest by even the most stringent of standards. On Rose, the blasted gown was nothing short of pure enticement. Of course, the woman could make a grain sack look enticing. More so, since he well knew what luscious wonders lie beneath.

  Then, the dangerous reality struck him with a protective blow. Burke pulled up on the reins and scowled at her. “I told you to stay inside.”

  “I am inside,” Rose said, nodding down at her matching lavender slippers, planted just within the doorway. “Would you deny me even a breath of fresh air?”

  Burke had his mouth open, ready to give his command, when he changed his mind. If he ordered her locked indoors much longer, Rose would undoubtedly decide to sneak outside for a walk without his permission, and without one of the guards at her side. It was best if he took her himself. At least, that’s what he told himself.

  Burke held his hand out. “Come on, I’ll give you an abbreviated tour of the grounds.”

  She brightened like the sun fresh from a week of cloud cover. It made him wish he’d offered to take her out sooner. Rose wasn’t one to linger too long indoors. She needed to be out in the sunshine and fresh air, like all of nature’s other wonders.

  Without hesitation, she dashed to his horse with small, speedy steps. He helped her mount and seated her before him, both cursing and relishing the feel of her woman’s body against his. Burke forced from his mind all thoughts of the placement of her soft curves by reminding himself someone who wanted to harm her still roamed free, possibly even nearby. The reminder crushed his mind’s errant wanderings under heel.