At Emsleigh House Rose and her mother alighted and followed the Finches into the hall, which was already crowded with laughing, chattering guests. They made their way up the wide curving stairs to the first landing, where the partition doors between the two reception rooms had been folded back to make one huge ballroom heated by roaring fires in the two hearths and hundreds of candles burning in the glittering chandeliers. Althea came up to greet them.
‘So glad you are come,’ she said, laying her hand on Rose’s arm. ‘You are amongst the very few people here that I can bear to talk to!’ She leaned closer. ‘I really do not know why Magnus insists upon inviting so many common people—even his tenants!’
‘But it has always been the custom for the foremost landowner in the area to hold the Winter Ball,’ explained Mrs Molland. ‘And who should do it, if not Mr Emsleigh?’
‘Well, there is that,’ agreed Althea, somewhat mollified, ‘but why should we have them all in the house—could he not hold a dance in the barn?’
‘That would avoid having clodhopping farmers in your house,’ murmured Rose, sharing a mischievous look with her mother.
‘Yes, it would,’ agreed Althea. ‘But there it is; Magnus wishes to be thought generous.’ She added, brightening. ‘At least we have more gentlemen here this year, including Captain Morris, who has just arrived.’ She dropped her voice. ‘He was captain of the Sealark on her last journey, you know, but such good manners, no one would think him a sailor!’
Althea tripped away as more guests arrived, leaving Mrs Molland to shake her head after her. Rose soon spotted Lawrence talking with a group of gentlemen in one far corner. She wanted to go immediately to speak to him, but the music started and Magnus came to claim her hand for the first dance.
No matter, she told herself. Before the night is out I will thank him for rescuing Sam.
And I will tell him I misjudged him.
Rose blinked. That had not been her original intention at all, but suddenly it was important to set things right with Lawrence.
The ball was noisy but good-natured. Magnus strutted around the room full of cheerful goodwill, reminding Rose of a genial monarch with his subjects. Althea was more regal, but less genial, except when she stood up to dance with Lawrence. Then she was all smiles. Rose tried not to allow her eyes to follow them around the room. Her body was still singing from the morning ride. During the day she had relived every look, every word they had shared. She felt so alive, her skin tingling with the anticipation of being close to Lawrence again. However, as the evening wore on it became clear that Lawrence was not going to ask her to dance with him.
It is your own fault, she chided herself. You asked him to leave you alone and that is what he is doing.
Her spirits were dampened, but she was not wholly downcast. She herself did not lack partners and was content to bide her time until she could find the opportunity to speak to Lawrence. She was reluctant to approach with so many people around him, especially Althea, who was constantly at his side. Rose watched them dancing together and when the music ended he relinquished her hand to Captain Morris, one of the few gentlemen present that Althea thought sufficiently elevated to partner her. The two men exchanged a few words, then Lawrence bowed and moved towards the door.
Rose saw her chance. She casually walked into the card room and out again by another door that led onto the landing. As she had hoped, Lawrence was outside the supper room, talking to Mr Ansell. They broke off their conversation as Rose approached. She greeted them with a shy smile and turned to Lawrence. She was a little nervous now the moment had come—what if he should reject her?
‘Sir Lawrence, I wonder if I might have a word with you?’
‘Aye, take him, ma’am,’ exclaimed Mr Ansell with a jovial laugh. ‘I’ve just offered to buy his hunter and been refused, so I want nothing more to do with him. He is all yours, Mrs Westerhill!’
Lawrence smiled, but she detected a wary reserve in his eyes. She ran her tongue over her dry lips.
‘Sir Lawrence, I wanted to say—’
A group of laughing young people came hurtling out of the supper room and Rose broke off. Sir Lawrence caught her arm and pulled her back out of the way.
‘Perhaps we should find somewhere we may talk undisturbed.’
Rose nodded and led him away from the ballroom to an unlit corridor.
‘The library is at the end of this passage, we will go there,’ she murmured, blushing at her own temerity. She was glad he did not tease her. Instead he placed a hand beneath her elbow to guide her through the darkness. When they reached the library door she paused for a moment, listening. Reassured by the silence, she turned the handle.
The library was still and silent, illuminated only by the pale light of a rising moon that shone in through the long, unshuttered windows. Rose slipped inside and Lawrence followed, softly closing the door behind him. She heard the click as he turned the key in the lock.
‘There. Now we can be sure we will not be disturbed.’
What now? As they had progressed along the dark corridor, moving further from the noisy ballroom, Rose had been aware of a nervous excitement growing within her. Lawrence’s hand on her arm had been warm, possessive. The heated blood pulsed around her body, heightening her senses. Alone with him in the darkness, all her wayward mind could think of was making love to him. That had not been her intention in bringing him here, but she acknowledged that she wanted him, with every fibre of her being. She remembered being here with him once before. Then he had pulled her into his arms. Now she wanted him to do the same, but instead he remained out of arms’ reach, a still and silent shadow. With an effort she dragged her mind back to the original purpose of the meeting.
‘I—I wanted to thank you.’ Rose swallowed, trying to clear the nervous constriction in her throat. ‘For rescuing Sam.’
Her voice sounded abnormally loud in the heavy silence. She moved away, hoping that by putting some distance between herself and Lawrence she could control her unruly desire. She heard Lawrence’s voice be hind her, deep and resonant in the darkness.
‘It is Abel Wooler who deserves your thanks. He knew where to find the boys and had the experience to row out to Sealham Point.’
She nodded. She had reached the desk and she stood before it, staring out of the window at the moonlit gardens.
‘I realise that and spoke to him this afternoon. He knows how grateful I am. You l-left last night before I could thank you and this morning…’ she faltered ‘…this morning I was very remiss in not telling you how much I am in your debt.’ She clasped her hands together, determined to finish her confession. ‘I—I wanted to say I may have been wrong. A-about you…’
Her heart was thudding so hard it was difficult to talk and her nerves were stretched to breaking. She heard no sound, but something made her turn around. Lawrence had come up behind her. He was standing so close she had to look up to see his face, but the shadows were too deep for her to read his expression. They were only inches apart and the sheer force of his presence enveloped her. Silence lay heavy around them; they were cocooned in their own little world.
Rose remained perfectly still. She knew she had reached some momentous point in her life: one false move, one wrong word, could mean disaster.
‘You do not know how long I have wanted to hear you say that.’
The words were so soft that at first she thought she had imagined them. Lawrence reached out and ran the backs of his fingers over her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against his hand.
‘You do not know how much I want it to be true.’
His fingers stroked across her chin and slipped around her neck. Obedient to the gentle pressure of his hand, she took the little step necessary to cover the distance between them, lifting her head for his kiss. The first touch of his lips was as gentle as a whisper, but it fanned the flames of the desire she had kept buried for so long. With a little cry Rose threw her arms around his neck, kissing him with a burni
ng passion that was beyond all rational thought. He responded immediately. His arms tightened about her, lifting her off the floor as her mouth yielded to the demands of his kiss, their tongues tangling and exploring. She felt the hard edge of the desk behind her knees and Lawrence pushed her gently back onto its smooth surface. Aching desire pounded through her body, heating her blood, heightening all her senses. She arched against him as he trailed kisses down her neck and across the soft swell of her breasts, her skin burning wherever his lips touched it. Lawrence was leaning over her, pressing her down on the desk, his mouth seeking hers again for another bruising kiss. He gathered up her skirts and she felt his fingers on her thighs. Obedient to the pressure of his hands, she twined her legs about him, gasping as those wickedly long fingers played havoc with her senses, touching and caressing her until she was aching from the sweet torture he was inflicting. He continued to play her while his free hand opened the flap of his breeches. Excited anticipation ripped through her when she felt his flesh hard upon her own. She pushed against him, exultant, as he entered her. They moved together, harder, faster, until Rose lost control of her body while he worshipped her with his. She bucked and trembled as they shared a shattering climax, clinging tightly to Lawrence until the last, ecstatic spasm had finished and they were left gasping and exhausted.
Lawrence relaxed against her, but Rose held him close, savouring the wondrous, other-worldliness of their union. She was unwilling for it to end, reluctant to make the transition from carefree paradise to the reality of their situation. At length he eased himself away and Rose sat up. She reached for him, pulling him back so she could lean against his chest, feeling the thud of his heart against her cheek. After a few minutes she raised her head and turned to look out of the window.
‘Rose? What is it, love?’ He caught her face in his hands and she heard the concern in his voice.
‘I would like to slip away from here now, just you and me.’
A gentle laugh rumbled in his chest.
‘If we were not on the first floor we could climb out of the window and run off, but there is no help for it, we must go back to the ballroom. And I fear we must do so very soon.’ He stepped away from her and straightened his clothing while Rose did the same, silently marvelling at the strength of passion that had overwhelmed them. This total loss of control had shaken her to her core. Never before had she felt so vulnerable: she had bared her soul and put herself completely at the mercy of one man. She needed to be alone, to examine her feelings and make sense of them. Her thoughts were still in turmoil and it was an effort to think rationally.
‘I am not sure I can go back,’ she whispered. ‘Everyone will know…’
‘I promise you they will not.’ He pulled her to her feet and held her hand as they crossed to the door. Cautiously he looked out into the darkness beyond. ‘Come, there is no one in sight.’
They slipped out of the library and made their way back towards the public rooms. Rose held Lawrence’s hand, drawing comfort from those warm fingers wrapped around hers. She needed to think over what had happened to her in the library, to discuss it with Lawrence, but it was not possible, not yet. She must keep her new-found happiness hidden until she had found a way to explain everything to Magnus. Thoughts and emotions continued to crowd in upon her as she walked beside Lawrence. They had almost reached the lighted corridor leading to the ballroom when Rose spoke again.
‘Do I look very dishevelled?’
‘Not in the least. You look adorable.’
The glow in his eyes made her blush all over again, but she tried to ignore it and shook out her skirts before taking his arm to walk out into the light. They passed several couples making their way to the supper room and Rose was amazed that they did not stop to stare at her. She felt that she was somehow transformed into a completely different person. She stole a peep up at Lawrence. He looked perfectly at ease, although she thought his smile looked a little brighter and there was a definite glow in his eyes when he caught her glance.
‘You must tell Emsleigh you cannot marry him,’ he murmured as they reached the ballroom.
‘Yes, but not tonight.’
‘Of course not. We have much to talk about. I will call tomorrow.’
He squeezed her arm and Rose’s heart gave a little flip of nervous excitement. Explaining to Magnus that she could not marry him would be painful, but once it was done she would be free…
‘So there you are, Sir Lawrence!’ Althea’s high voice intruded. ‘I have been looking everywhere for you, sir. I was hoping you would partner me for the next dance.’
‘Alas, Miss Emsleigh, I cannot do that.’
She looked from Lawrence to Rose, whose new-found happiness was shining in her eyes.
‘Have you been flirting with Mrs Westerhill?’
‘I would never flirt with her.’
The warm smile he bestowed upon Rose was not lost on Althea, whose eyes now positively flashed.
‘You have paid her far too much attention tonight.’
Lawrence shook his head.
‘No, Miss Emsleigh, I—’ He broke off as Magnus came up.
‘Daunton, unhand my fiancée, if you please.’ His curt, cold tone brought a guilty flush to Rose’s cheeks. Had he guessed where they had been, what had occurred? She felt so changed, so altered, it seemed impossible that Magnus should not notice it. He ignored her and continued to stare at Lawrence, unsmiling.
‘Captain Morris tells me you have been making enquiries about the Sealark.’
Lawrence made no move, his expression did not change, but he grew very still. Rose’s initial relief was replaced by consternation. She did not understand the sudden tension that surrounded them. The air was thick with danger.
‘Yes,’ Lawrence said coolly, ‘I spoke to him about it.’
‘You are an agent for the insurers.’
Rose laughed.
‘That is absurd, Magnus—’
‘Yes, I am.’
Lawrence’s answer cut across hers and at the same time he gently removed her hand from his arm. He was distancing himself from her and Rose did not know why.
Magnus drew himself up, eyes narrowing.
‘You have inveigled your way into my house to spy on me!’
‘By no means,’ replied Lawrence evenly. ‘You will recall that you invited me. Although I admit I am guilty of not telling you why I had come to Knightscote.’
Magnus glared at him. ‘And have you discovered anything amiss, sir?’
There was a pause no longer than a heartbeat before Lawrence answered.
‘No, I have not. As yet.’
‘And nor will you. So you may go back to your masters and tell them to pay me what is owed! And you will leave my house. This instant.’
‘No!’ cried Althea. ‘Magnus, no harm has been done; he has found nothing to incriminate you. You cannot throw him out.’
Lawrence inclined his head.
‘Perhaps it is best that I leave now.’ He held out his hand to Rose, but Althea grabbed his sleeve.
‘I will not let you go. You must stay!’
‘Miss Emsleigh, please,’ said Lawrence gently, ‘this is not wise.’
He tried to remove her fingers from his coat, but she only clung tighter.
‘No, you shall not walk out on me.’
‘I’m afraid I must.’
‘No! You cannot!’ Her voice rose hysterically. ‘I am carrying your child!’
Until that moment Rose had not been aware of the chatter around them, but she noticed immediately when it stopped, replaced by a shocked silence. Lawrence looked stunned.
‘That is impossible,’ he said quietly.
‘What is this, Althea?’ Magnus turned to his sister. ‘What are you saying?’
‘The first night we met, at the Pullens’ ball. I w-was flattered by his attentions, s-swept away…’ She was crying now, her hands twisting together. ‘I allowed him to take me outside for a little air and…’
Lawren
ce shook his head. He disengaged himself and stepped away from her.
‘You are mistaken, madam.’
Althea put up her chin.
‘I will force you to marry me,’ she said triumphantly. ‘I will not let you abandon me!’
Magnus put his arm about her shoulders.
‘Impossible. That such a man should be my brother—! No, no, my dear; were he as rich as Croesus I could not allow that.’ He lifted a hand and summoned his footmen. ‘You, sir, will leave my house immediately. And you will have nothing more to do with my sister.’
‘I cannot leave with such a slur hanging over me!’
‘A slur? Dear God, as if anyone would doubt it is true. You are well known for your rakish ways, sir, get out of my house.’
‘No, Magnus!’ Althea grabbed his coat. ‘That is not what I want!’
Magnus patted her arm.
‘You have nothing to fear, my dear, but whatever the shame, I will not allow you to marry this villain.’
Tight jawed, Lawrence shook his head.
‘Rose, do not believe this. I swear I have not laid a hand on her or any woman since I met you.’
She tried to make herself think, but the high, joyous singing that had been resonating through her since they had come back into the ballroom was changed to an anguished scream inside her head. Hot tears burned her eyes, but she was too proud to let them fall. When Lawrence reached out for her, she backed away.
‘Rose—it’s a lie, I tell you!’
‘Do not listen to him,’ Magnus urged her. ‘He is a libertine, a rogue, not to be trusted.’ He raised his voice to address his servants. ‘Escort Sir Lawrence from the premises.’
Lawrence gave a snarl of warning and the lackeys stopped, hovering uncertainly at his shoulder.
‘Should you not be calling me out, Emsleigh? We could settle this at dawn with swords or pistols, whatever you chose.’
Snowbound With the Notorious Rake Page 16
