The Viscount's Rose (The Farthingale Series Book 5)

by Meara Platt

  A Midsummer’s Kiss (Regency Romance) Sometimes love happens at the most unexpected times and in the most unexpected places. Sometimes it quietly sneaks up on you, and sometimes it knocks you over on a London street, just as it happens to Lord Graelem Dayne when Laurel Farthingale’s horse runs him over and breaks his leg. Graelem has until Midsummer’s Day, a mere thirty days away to find a wife or lose a large inheritance, so when a remorseful Laurel begs his forgiveness and promises to do anything for him, he takes her up on that promise and insists that she marry him. Laurel Farthingale has no intention of becoming Graelem Dayne’s biddable bride and is furious that he’s tricked her into a betrothal. She plans to marry another, her long-time friend and childhood infatuation who is now in London to propose to her, for she’s a Farthingale and everyone knows that Farthingales only marry for love. But as she comes to know Graelem, she realizes that he may very well be the man she’s destined to love. Can he ever love her above his desire to secure his baronial fortune?

  The Viscount’s Rose (Regency Romance) When Rose Farthingale is saved from the rubble of her pottery workshop, she knows that she must repay this debt to her handsome rescuer by abducting him (at his family’s desperate urging) in order to save him from the clutches of the scheming woman he is presently courting and intending to marry. But Rose never expects to be abducted with him, or to fall in love with him over the course of their captivity. Viscount Julian Emory is a secret agent of the Crown on an important mission to destroy the spy ring Napoleon has established in London. The woman he’s pretending to court is one of Napoleon’s most important spies, for only she knows the identity of the traitor within the royal inner circle. He’s purposely encouraged the courtship and marriage rumors in the hope she will make a slip and disclose the traitor’s identity, but his meddlesome family has just ruined his plans. By forcing him into close quarters with Rose Farthingale, they’ve put both his mission and this delectable innocent in danger. Can he keep himself from falling in love with Rose long enough to bring down Napoleon’s spy organization?

  If You Loved Me (Regency Romance)

  KINDLE WORLDS: REGENCY NOVELLAS

  Nobody’s Angel

  Kiss An Angel

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  To Neal, Brigitte (my fair Gigi), and Adam, the best husband and kids ever. I’m so lucky to have you as my family. To my own boisterous and meddlesome family, who enrich my life beyond measure with your love and general brilliance. To all my readers for your generosity and support of these stories. I wish you all the beauty in your lives that you’ve given to me. As always, to my intrepid first readers, Barbara Hassid, Lauren Cox, Megan Westfall, Rebecca Heller, and Maria Barlea, and to my longtime friends and terrific authors in their own right, Pamela Burford, Patricia Ryan, and Stevi Mittman. To my talented photographer, Jeff Loeser. To my wonderful web designer, Willa Cline. Heartfelt gratitude to the best support team that any author can have: Laurel Busch, Samantha Williams, Melody Barber, Jennifer Gracen, and Greg Simanson.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Meara Platt is happily married to her Russell Crowe look-alike husband, and they have two terrific children. She lives in one of the many great towns on Long Island, New York, and loves it, except for the traffic. She has traveled the world, occasionally lectures, and always finds time to write. Her favorite place in all the world is England’s Lake District, which may not come as a surprise since many of her stories are set in that idyllic landscape, including her Romance Writers of America Golden Heart award winning story to be released as Book 3 in her paranormal romance Garden Series, which is set to debut in 2016. Learn more about Meara Platt by visiting her website at mearaplatt.com.

  CHAPTER 9

  “WHAT WILL YOU do to your siblings?” Rose asked, taking a seat at the kitchen table while Julian tossed some more logs into the hearth to stoke the fire, for a chill had set in with the arrival of the storm. It was nearing supper time she supposed, but couldn’t be sure because they had no clock and the midsummer sun that might have guided her was nowhere to be seen. The rain was still coming down in buckets, and the flashes of lightning and thunder rumbling in the distance would be upon them soon. “They meant you no harm.”

  Rose moved her stool closer to the hearth, eager for the warmth of the flames to chase away the damp ache still in her bones. The jostling she’d received during the carriage ride had left bruises on her arms and legs, and her attempts to free herself from her bindings had left chafe marks on her wrists. All in all, the damage was not serious, but Julian had noticed these marks immediately and been angered by them.

  Perhaps they wouldn’t have been so obvious if her skin wasn’t such a delicate shade of pink. She’d had to assure him they were nothing of consequence, because with each passing moment, he appeared to grow more tense.

  “No harm? Other than almost killing me with that overdose and setting you up for ruin?” Julian set aside the andiron and returned to her side, a furious expression on his face. He groaned and ran a hand along the nape of his neck. “Hell, Rose. This is a mess. The younger ones aren’t so much the problem, for I know they didn’t think up this idiotic plan.” He absently rubbed the nape of his neck again, a sign of his consternation. “Nicola must have concocted it, and I don’t know if I can ever forgive her for that.”

  Rose’s stomach began to churn, for she had been the original instigator and had helped Nicola come up with their first plan as well as propose other options. But this wasn’t the time to confess her involvement to Julian. He was clearly enraged, but not at her. Thank goodness. She couldn’t blame him for being on edge and angry with his entire family, including his aunt and uncle. However, since an earl outranked a viscount, there wasn’t much Julian could do by way of punishing the elders in his family. For this reason, he was focusing his anger on Nicola. “You must forgive her,” Rose insisted, although there might have been a little pleading in her tone as well. “Losing your love would devastate her.”

  “Still loyal to Nicola despite all she’s done to you?” He set the last of the currant scones on a plate and settled his large frame on a stool beside hers. He offered to cut it in half to share but she declined. She’d had one a few moments earlier and couldn’t handle any more to eat. Her stomach was still unsettled because of the effect of the drug still in her veins. As well, she was fretting over being part of this misguided plot they’d hatched. What would Julian do to her when he found out the true extent of her involvement?

  She declined the tea he offered her. “Yes. She’s my best friend and always will be. She wishes we were sisters, she’s told me so quite often.”

  “I know how much she cares for you, but there is no excuse for what she’s done. Her affection for you doesn’t make it right.”

  “I know.” Rose stifled a yawn, not yet able to shake off the effects of the drug, but there was more to do than think of sleep. In truth, attempting to sleep while her body was so lethargic held no appeal for her. Besides, there were things to occupy her time in the lodge. The place was well stocked with food, blankets, and other useful supplies to peruse.

  Thinking of sleep would force her to think about sleeping arrangements, and since Julian had broken the cot in the room where he’d been bound, there was only one other cot left in the small chamber beside it. Only one narrow, rickety bed for the two of them to share. Of course, not at the same time. They’d either have to take turns sleeping in it or Julian would have to make a pallet for himself beside the kitchen hearth and sleep on the floor along with the mice and other vermin that had taken up occupancy while the hunting lodge sat unused.

  The thought of those creatures creeping up Julian’s boots as he slept on the floor caused a shiver of disgust to run up her spine. She couldn’t allow him to spend the night in such discomfort.

  They’d have to share the cot.

  Not at the same time, of course, she reminded herself, refusing to consider the possibility of sleeping in his arms, their bodies entangled as she lay atop him, her hea
d nestled against his golden chest. Should she suggest it? Never! She simply couldn’t. But would he?

  “You’re tired,” he said, staring at her when she yawned again. “Come along, I’ll set up the cot for you. We haven’t discussed sleeping arrangements.”

  “Is there a need?” She blushed, never considering that he had the power to read her mind. But he must have known what she was thinking or he wouldn’t have raised the matter now. Were her thoughts so clearly written on her face? “Separate arrangements, of course.”

  “Of course.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Did you think I’d suggest otherwise?”

  This was a moment when she ought to keep her mouth shut and allow the question to quietly disappear into the night unanswered, but most Farthingales were not discreet—in truth, the word did not appear in the Farthingale vocabulary—so she attempted to respond with full knowledge that it was a terribly wrong thing to do. “Um, considering your past behavior toward me… and your lack of… because you kissed me in places…”

  “On your body?” He was still smiling and his eyes were now dark and gleaming, or was it merely a trick of the firelight?

  “I meant places… such as the library… and again here in this lodge.”

  The man was now shamelessly grinning at her. “Ah, I thought you were referring to the parts of your body. All quite glorious, by the way. My mistake.”

  “Yes, indeed. You are quite mistaken.” She swallowed hard, because the memory of his lips against her skin was making her hot and decidedly uncomfortable. The mere thought of what he’d done to her in the earl’s library was sending her into improper spasms of elation. “My body parts, specifically my breasts, are not your property. Neither the right one nor the left one. You may not touch either of them.”

  “That’s quite specific. Any other instructions about what not to do with your breasts? Do they have a vote in the matter or is your edict irreversible and final?” He stood quite close now, close enough for her to feel the heat radiating off his big body. Or was all the heat coming from her own body, which was now a liquid pool of fire?

  Hot, buttered crumpets!

  She was in deep, deep trouble. Not from Julian, of course. Despite his jest, he was a gentleman to the core and would keep his hands off her if she requested that he do so. But she didn’t wish him to do so, and therein lay the problem, for all she wanted to do was grab him by the lapels and sprinkle hot kisses down his body and… and… then set him loose to do whatever he wished to do upon her body.

  She didn’t know what he would do, only that she was certain to like it. “I’m not in the habit of giving any of my body parts a say, other than my brain, of course.” Which isn’t functioning at the moment. “Or my heart.” She emitted a soft, shattered sigh. “Too often, my heart.”

  “Rose,” he said with a tender ache to his voice, “I’m a beast for teasing you when you’ve been nothing but sweet and generous to me and my family.”

  “No, I’m silly and frivolous and quite at fault. In truth, I’m uncomfortable trapped here alone with you. Or rather, I ought to be uncomfortable, but I’m not.” She glanced at him in desperation. “What I mean to say is… I ought not be feeling safe and protected with you. It’s going to get me into trouble.” She stared down at her hands, which were clasped together and resting on the table top.

  He set his large hands atop hers, fully enveloping them in the warmth of his rough palms. Despite being raised in elegance and refinement, he had a wonderful ruggedness about him that distinguished him from the London dandies. “Look at me, Rose.”

  She shook her head furiously. “I can’t.”

  His thumb began to move in gentle, stroking swirls across the top of her hand. “Why can’t you look at me?”

  She closed her eyes and stifled a sigh. “Because I’m not that strong. I can’t resist you, Julian.” She licked her lips. “Obviously this is the reason why unmarried young ladies are warned never to be alone with handsome gentlemen such as you. You’re irresistible.”

  He choked lightly and then chuckled. “Thank you.”

  She kept her eyes closed, still afraid to open them and fall prey to his allure. “I didn’t intend it as a compliment.”

  “It doesn’t sound like an insult.”

  She nodded. “I didn’t mean it as an insult either. It is simply a statement of fact. You’re every young woman’s dream and you’re here alone with me. Were you to set your mind to a nefarious purpose—”

  “Such as seducing you?”

  She nodded again. “I’m afraid you’d succeed.”

  He tipped her chin up and urged her to open her eyes, which she did reluctantly. “Rose, I find you irresistible as well, but I will sleep right here on the kitchen floor and not make any untoward advances. It won’t be easy for me. In truth, it will take a monumental effort because I think you’re beautiful in every way.”

  She eeped.

  “I want to take you in my arms and hold you through the night. I want to do much more than simply hold you through the night. All sorts of things. Naughty things to your delightful body.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. She meant to chastise him for his presumption, but she was curious to find out about these forbidden intimacies. She’d had a brief introduction in the earl’s library and quite liked it. “Such as?”

  He laughed. “Oh, no. Not telling you. Perhaps in time I’ll have the pleasure of showing you. But not tonight. No. And stop looking at me that way or I’ll never be able to keep my hands off you. Let’s speak of safer topics.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “The weather?”

  “Yes, that’s suitably dull.”

  This time she laughed. “Very well. Um, it’s frightfully wet outside. Now your turn. Give me a dull comment in return.”

  “Your gown is still damp from our earlier frolic in the pond. You ought to change into the dry clothes our ‘abductors’ conveniently provided for you.”

  That didn’t sound very dull. In truth, it sounded quite dangerous for it involved taking off her clothes, and even though it involved putting fresh, dry clothes back on, she wasn’t certain that she’d ever get that far while Julian stood on the other side of the door. A door that had no lock. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?” His expression was one of innocent concern, which made her wonder whether she was the only one having these indecent thoughts. He had teased her and complimented her, and made an occasional suggestive comment, but not actually behaved improperly in any way.

  In fact, his proper manner was beginning to grate.

  If she was so irresistible, why was he able to resist her?

  More to the point, why was she irritated by his desire to be noble and protective? “I can’t reach the buttons down the back. These gowns are designed for ladies who have maids at their beck and call.”

  He cleared his throat. “I’ll act as your maid. Just the buttons you can’t reach. And I’ll close my eyes the entire time.”

  “It won’t work. How will you see the buttons to unfasten them if your eyes are closed?”

  “I’ll feel around for… ah, I see. You’re right. That obviously won’t work.” He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. He was doing that a lot lately.

  “You see? That’s why I’m in so much trouble. I refuse to consider what might happen if you touched me. I’m afraid it would be something wonderful that would lead to something else wonderful and—”

  “Rose, you’re getting off our dull conversation. Kindly steer yourself back to it. No more talk of taking off your clothes. I’m sorry I mentioned it, but I don’t like that you’re still wearing a wet gown.”

  “It’s merely damp now. I’ll sit close to the fire until it dries. It’s early yet. I won’t go to sleep before then.”

  He nodded. “That’s a workable solution. Keep my jacket tucked over your shoulders. You’ll need the warmth.”

  She smiled. “It carries your scent. It’s a nice scent. Clean and manly. I like
being surrounded by it.”

  His hand went to his neck again and began to rub. “Do you enjoy needlepoint? Tell me what you’re working on that can be described to me in yawn-inspiring, lengthy detail.”

  She laughed heartily. “You are a glutton for punishment, but I’m afraid I must disappoint you. I’m dismal with needle and thread, and not working on any needlepoint designs at the moment. Or ever. But I will happily list all the designs my aunt Hortensia has completed and describe in very dull detail where each one is on proud display throughout our townhouse.”

  She raised her hands and grinned as she prepared to count them off. “She’s a tigress with petit-point and spends much of her day in that endeavor when she isn’t otherwise occupied in meddling. My family happens to have a talent for meddling that rivals yours.”

  “Which explains why you accepted my family’s outrageous actions with equanimity.” He took hold of her hands once more and again began to absently trace circles on her skin with his thumbs.

  They were supposed to be engaging in dull conversation to keep their minds on safe topics, but Rose knew their attempt was doomed to failure. There was a spark between them, a natural affinity that drew them closer no matter how determined they were to resist. In truth, she wasn’t determined at all. “It is a sign that they care.”

  “Is that supposed to be a gentle reminder? That I should go easy on Nicola?”

  “Yes, since you ask. I’m not condoning her actions, mind you.” Since I was the instigator. “But people make mistakes. There’s a difference between actions taken out of love and those taken out of malice.”