Rose

by Conrad, Angela

  “That was foolish,” Mark said, trying to control his temper.

  “I know, I should have checked the ground better before trying it. I’d never risk injury to my horse.”

  “Your horse? You could have killed yourself,” Mark fumed.

  Rose and Simon looked at Mark wondering why he cared. What was his interest? Both sensed it was important, one pleased, the other resenting it.

  “I’m alright. Please both of you, calm down. Sometimes I miss the country where I could ride and jump without a care in the world, no one watching or trying to stop me.”

  “Or care if you fell,” Simon filled in.

  Rose surprisingly laughed and gave Simon a bow.

  “Yes, that too. Mother wishing me gone and father never present.”

  “What do you mean, your father never came to Suffolk?” Mark asked.

  “Only once, a few weeks ago when he thought I might prove a valuable commodity. I’d never seen him before,” Rose replied.

  “Never?” Mark asked, even in the worst of families he had never heard of such an occurrence. Rose was not his enemy, but another victim of Lord Sandhurst’s carelessness. This news made him more than glad.

  “No. Not even when I was born. Now I need to get home,” Rose said, mounting.

  Mark realized how tall and strong she was, that she could pull herself up and mount without assistance. She was a very different kind of lady.

  “Don’t try jumping there again,” Mark ordered. “You were lucky this time, but if the grass happened to be wetter or the horse less alert, you could have been seriously injured.”

  Rose gazed down into Lord Islay’s upturned face and understood his reputation. He offered a sincerity in his voice, a wonderful quality he had perfected that created just the right degree of ardor. If she trusted gentlemen at all, she might believe he harbored serious feelings for her. Only, she had no trust, was not gullible, and so she marveled at his acting ability.

  “Thank you Lord Islay. Your approval and concern is balm to my soul. How flattered I am that such a gentleman as yourself would bother to instruct me,” Rose exclaimed, with a young girl’s voice spiced with a woman’s coyness.

  Mark recognized the sarcasm and was surprised by it. Rose Sandhurst saw him as a seducer, not a caring person. Judging by his past, she would be right, but still he did not like that she identified him so easily. She’d placed him in a pile of unworthy men, a manipulator of hearts. Suddenly, Mark realized he did not want Rose to see him as a rogue.

  “I’ll take you home,” Simon offered, mounting his horse too and moving around the hedge.

  Mark raised his hand to take her bridle, but Snowflake pulled away.

  Rose looked down at the handsome Lord Islay with a puzzled grin.

  “I must be going. Sorry if I scared you Lord Islay. Though why you’d care if I broke my neck or not puzzles me,” Rose stated, with a smile on her lips.

  Mark wanted to pull her down, lay her in the wet grass, and kiss that smile off her lips.

  She waved at him! What a jade, like she’d done nothing more than skip over a puddle or step off a curb. He could still feel the blood running hot in his veins and she was as cool as morning dew. He watched the pair ride sedately back to the gates of the park and wondered himself, why did he care so much?

  ……….

  Simon would not leave it alone. He hounded Rose, like a pack of beagles on the scent.

  “Why was he following you? What does Islay have to do with you?” Simon asked again.

  “I don’t know, he just happened to be in the park I guess. Will you stop asking me?”

  “I don’t know if meeting you, kissing you, being able to hold you on a bed was a blessing or a curse Rose, for I cannot forget you,” Simon shouted, riding up next to her. “I sit in the park for hours waiting to see you. I search my invitations each day, matching them to your father’s and planning my evenings around you. Take pity on me Rose and speak to me.”

  “Simon, I do speak to you, wherever I go,” Rose replied, surprised by the emotion in his voice.

  “Pleasantries, greetings, tell me your heart Rose. I planned to have you that first day. After being with you, kissing you, I burn for you.”

  “Perhaps you should not plan such serious actions, after watching a strange lady ride a horse. You cannot be so sincere as to love me. You go by my looks, not myself. You do not know me Simon,” Rose said kindly, not trusting his ardor.

  “Do you feel anything for me?” Simon demanded.

  She pulled her horse under a giant oak and stopped. Rose turned in the saddle and looked at Simon Bainbridge. His sleek dark looks, his earnest eyes, and his generous smile. He had told her he was twenty five, sometimes he acted younger but today he seemed older, more serious.

  “I do,” Rose offered. “You came to my rescue, tried to help me when I was a stranger. I too cannot forget you Simon. I don’t really know you. We need to spend more time together, learn about our dreams and desires for the future.”

  “Agree to let me near you then, meet me every morning, right here.”

  “I’ll try. Sometimes Marlene visits or father decides my actions, but I will try.”

  “Your father, pressing other gentlemen on you, it drives me mad to watch it,” Simon lamented, the anger in his voice making the horses prance about.

  Rose laughed softly and sighed.

  “Yes, it is rather troubling. Such insincerity, greed, and lust about me at nights and in the drawing room afternoons, I cannot breathe,” Rose declared, wanting to be comforted, but disliking the feeling of being pressed, ordered about.

  “Would you go away with me Rose? I don’t care about Lord Sandhurst and his plans, your dowry, nothing but having you.”

  Simon pulled his horse closer and took her hand. He squeezed so tightly, it hurt. His light green eyes studied Rose’s expression and he pleaded with her.

  “Say yes Rose.”

  Rose was surprised. Simon was serious. For the first time she believed he really must desire her. Something about his pushing made her afraid of his strong emotions. His ardor was hot, so was his temper. Never being around men, this unleashed power and force felt threatening.

  “I have to keep my word, a few months yet. Continue to be wherever he takes me. Dance with me. We will ride together and talk. Don’t show too much on your face for father to see. What are you thinking we might do, go where?”

  “I have a small estate and my fortune is much improved. Not as grand as your fathers, you would not live in gilded walls of mirrors, but I would love you Rose, like no one has done in your life.”

  “We never signed that note he proposed. I am under age however. If we run, my name will be ruined and yours diminished. Let’s try to please him first for both our sakes,” pressed Rose, wanting to be away and wishing Lord Islay had ridden home with her instead of the very demanding Simon.

  “If it’s what you want, but know Rose that I do feel great passion for you. Every day is an agony until we can be together. Whatever I have to do, I will have you.”

  To her ears it sounded more like a threat than a lover’s promise.

  ……….

  Lord Islay watched the pair and noticed when they stopped and talked. He saw Bainbridge take her hand, their expressions serious. Bainbridge was determined, mid-twenties, handsome, a baron’s son.

  Nothing to his title of earl, or his fortune and estates but nevertheless a threat. There was conflict between them. They knew each other and Simon was head over heels, anyone could see it. If he did not act fast, Mark thought, Bainbridge would run away, taking Rose. There was an air of desperation around the younger man. He was decided. Mark would just have to spoil Simon’s plans. Never before had Lord Islay felt such a desire to have a woman, as he did for Rose Sandhurst. The idea of losing her to Bainbridge was unacceptable. Simon was not the only man decided.

  ……….

  Lord Sandhurst Town House

  Residence of Viscount Sandhurst
<
br />   8 Mount Street

  London, England

  Rose and Marlene were sitting in the Sandhurst morning room the day after her daring jump. Rose was burning with questions for her friend.

  “So tell me everything you know about Lord Islay,” Rose demanded.

  “So he’s trapped you in his sticky web of temptation, like every other lady in London?” Marlene asked.

  “No. He just seems to be wherever I am and now he stares so. Between him and Simon, I feel like a piece of cheese between two mice. What is his story?”

  “He is very handsome. He can have any lady in town and I dare say, has had most of the attractive ones. Widowed, married, and some whisper a few debutantes too. He courts them with a heavy hand, if he’s in a hurry. He stands back and waits sometimes, as he knows they will always approach him with an offer. After he has them, he grows bored and starts looking for another. He lacks consistency.”

  “Was he always that way?” Rose asked, thinking of the quantity of women he must have had, being in his thirties surely.

  “He was always so attractive, he never had to do the chasing. They come to him, slip him keys, wink and whisper room numbers, offer him anything.”

  “What does that mean?” Rose asked, her tea cup stopped in midair.

  “Whatever he likes, you know, ways to make love,” Marlene revealed, for having three older sisters, she was better informed than Rose.

  “There are different ways? What ways?”

  “Gads, don’t you know anything?” Marlene scooted closer to her friend on the settee and whispered.

  “Him on top, or you, laying down, sitting or standing, things like that.”

  “I don’t want to think of it. To make love to a gentleman when you know he’s had so many different women in various ways, I could not feel special or cherished. It would be like a contest with him, always exceeding himself. I could never get it out of my mind, him and everyone else,” Rose sighed, very disappointed. She liked Simon very much, but Lord Islay was a beautiful specimen.

  “Every gentleman has experiences. You won’t find a good one who hasn’t. Ask Simon how many he’s had and see what he says,” Marlene suggested.

  They giggled, scandalizing themselves.

  “You can certainly tell neither of us have mothers or grandmothers, for we are shameful hussies with vulgar talk and worse ideas,” Rose said.

  “You have a mother.”

  “An empty shell of one yes, but she never talked to me of gentlemen except to call father, ‘that damn scoundrel’ and tell me they were all heartless, cruel, and would use and abandon me.”

  “With a man like your father, I can see her argument. Only, don’t let her bitterness ruin you. Someone worthy will offer for a goddess like you,” Marlene said.

  “What about you, who do you like?” Rose asked.

  “I like Stanley Bainbridge, but I don’t think he knows me, or cares too,” Marlene sighed.

  “I know him. A little anyway and I will ask Simon to bring him to the Spencer ball and we will all be together,” Rose offered.

  “Would you? It probably won’t do any good, but at least I’d know if there was a chance,” Marlene winked and grinned.

  “Yes, it is decided. I will send a note this morning, for father’s servants seem to be on my side and agree to help me go around his orders.”

  “Speaking of him, who is he pushing you towards?”

  “He won’t say. He knows I wouldn’t agree on principle, so he introduces me to many and watches from the side. He’s like a hyena I saw in a book once, crouching in the tall grass, biding his time,” Rose replied, and she knelt on the seat and growled at her friend, just as Lord Islay was shown into the room.

  ……….

  Lord Islay stopped midstride, seeing Rose on her knees, her back end in the air, bending over her friend and growling did something serious to his system. He felt like sticking his fingers under his cravat and loosening the knot.

  The young ladies straightened themselves on hearing him enter and smiled at his discomfort.

  “Rose was showing me her interpretation of a hyena Lord Islay,” Marlene smirked.

  “How do you know about those?” he asked with a smile.

  Rose stood up and whispered in Mark’s ear, as bold as a harlot on the street.

  “There’s one right here in this house,” Rose declared.

  He caught a whisper of her perfume and wanted to take her in his arms, madly fighting the urge he stepped closer. Leaning down, he whispered back.

  “Really? Not me surely.”

  “I don’t know what you are yet, but I was speaking of my father. He watches and waits and savors,” Rose answered with a smile.

  “Watches what?” Mark asked, marveling at her sweet expressions and laughing grey eyes.

  “Why me of course and whatever male he decides to mate with me. Someone who brings the most strength into the group and crowns him with riches.”

  “My, you are plain speaking,” Mark smiled, enjoying himself very much. Hearing Rose use the words, ‘mate with me’ made his pulse race.

  “You think that is plain speaking? You should have heard our conversation a few moments ago,” Marlene offered.

  “Now I am intrigued. What did I miss?” he asked, taking a seat and looking at Rose.

  “It concerned a certain gentleman’s reputation and his scandalous past and how I could not abide such a man, who has enjoyed so many women,” Rose confessed.

  Nothing could have startled the earl more and he looked at Marlene. Then back at Rose. Her meaning and subject matter clear.

  “You would want a gentleman with no experience?” he asked, only to fill the silence.

  “I suppose I would have to accept that a grown man might have some, but to be a predator, a hunter of women for sport and pleasure, then discard them for another fresh one? Well, that sounds like my father doesn’t it? The hyena. No wonder I would dislike the breed so.”

  “Don’t you think such a man could change direction, if he found the right lady?” Mark asked, suddenly serious.

  Rose laughed and leaned back.

  “No. There would never be the right lady, don’t you see? That type of man would always be looking, watching for a better, younger mate. A lady could never trust him or give him her heart, for he would hurt her for fun. No Lord Islay, the gentleman we were discussing earlier would only bring sorrow and pain. I have lived without a man’s tenderness or devotion my whole life and I won’t settle for anyone not able to truly love me. I pledge, even if it requires running away with the stable hand. The man I choose would be satisfied with just me.”

  Never in all of his life had Mark heard a woman, let alone a young lady, speak this way. He felt a needle pierce him, never realizing that when he might find the right lady, she would judge him negatively by his colorful past. It was unsettling. It was how a man judged a woman, not the other way around.

  “Like that would be hard to do,” Marlene said. “Look at you dear, if a gentleman could not be satisfied with you, then he isn’t much of a man.”

  “I shall find the right one and I hope before father finds his choice, for then if we do not agree, I must flee to a gypsy camp and hide,” Rose revealed, smiling at her two companions, as if she made perfect sense and spoke like any normal lady of the realm.

  No one saw her father standing in the hallway, listening. He stepped silently to his study and sent a message to a paid man.

  ……….

  Simon read Rose’s note with some disappointment. It was not a love letter, but a request for him to bring his brother along to tonight’s ball. Why would she want to see Stanley? Wasn’t fighting off a score of suitors and now Lord Islay enough?

  Simon was growing impatient. Part of him wished he had never entered a bedroom with Rose. Kissed her, felt her soft lips pressing against his, worse laying on top of her, feeling her full bosom pressing against his chest. He perspired just remembering it. No other lady came close to Ros
e in looks, or personality, or daring, or attraction for him. He’d never felt this way before and Simon wished he didn’t now, as it offered a painful future.

  How to win her? He was working on his investments, hoping to double his fortune again. He had bet heavily on a ship from the Caribbean and it was two days late. If it was lost to pirates or storms, he would be a poor choice for Lord Sandhurst. That lord had devious plans, Simon was beginning to guess his accomplice, by seeing his correspondence. Simon wanted no part of anything sordid, only if things fell ill for him, Sandhurst’s way was better than nothing.

  There must be another way? Could he ruin Rose with better witnesses this time? Corner Rose near a mean-spirited cat with a gossip’s tongue? Force the wedding? It was one way.

  He would wait for his ship to arrive, if it did not, something more drastic would be required.

  Lord Islay was a blackguard and a seducer of women. He would not have Rose. Whatever it took, Simon promised himself, Islay would not have Rose.

  ……….

  The night of the Spencer ball was here and Rose and Marlene were dressing together with the assistance of their lady’s maids. Janet was helping Rose and Susan was Marlene’s favorite maid for doing hair. The team of four spent several hours preparing for the battleground called the marriage mart. They mixed scent, sorted jeweled hair pins, and tightened laces.

  Marlene was excited to hear Rose had a note back from Simon and Stanley would be with him at the ball. This might well be her one chance to interest a gentleman she admired. Stanley was not often at balls or assemblies, but attended horseraces in Newmarket or Whites’ for cards. She suspected he went other places too, down Brighton way, but pushed those thoughts aside.

  The two ladies were dressed to attract attention. Rose’s father had outdone himself on choosing her gowns and tonight Rose wore a soft pink silk that clung to her magnificent figure, with small off the shoulder straps, a deep plunging neckline, decorated with pearls and small silk flowers at the neckline.