The Viscount's Rose (The Farthingale Series Book 5) (29 page)

Rose snorted to contain her laughter. Those clever fiends! They’d gotten out of having to visit their mother’s aunt, Lady Palmhurst, whose entire house reeked of the lilac cologne she doused on herself by the bucketful. The scent of lilac was quite lovely in small doses, almost as delightful as the scent of lavender or rose hips, but there was nothing pleasant about an aroma that struck you hard in the face like a brick thrown at you.

Truly, it snatched one’s breath away. There was no escaping it, for Lady Palmhurst would not allow her windows to be opened.

And the woman loved sardines.

Dillie never responded well to sardines.

Lilac water and sardines.

Rose wanted to cheer the twins for so cleverly maneuvering their way out of the visit. If only they could help her as well as they’d helped themselves. She walked down the hall and knocked at their bedroom door. “Open up, I need to talk to you. Sisters meeting.” Laurel and Daisy were close behind her. Usually they met in Rose’s room, but it was nothing to switch location while the twins were under house arrest, so to speak.

“Rose needs your counsel,” Laurel said, giving another impatient knock.

Dillie opened the door and stepped aside to allow them in. “We’ll do what we can to help. We noticed Julian’s absence and wondered at the reason. He means a lot to you, doesn’t he, Rose?”

She shook her head. “I don’t have much time before the Earl of Devon’s ball. Oh, bother. Less than half an hour to get ready, so we really must talk fast. I care for him very much. I love him, but I don’t think Julian feels the same about me. Lord Randall explained to me that Julian was busy. That’s it. He refused to tell me anything more.”

Dillie nodded. “And now you’re worried that Julian wishes to avoid you.”

“Yes.” It felt odd to confide in the twins, who were barely out of the nursery, yet they had such agile minds, and Lily in particular always had a unique manner of looking at things that could be very helpful. “How do I make him fall in love with me?”

Lily looked pained. “You know what Father always says. You can’t make someone love you. They either do or they don’t. But I’ve heard it said at the Royal Society that the Duke of Lotheil has just acquired the statue of a rare African fertility god. It hasn’t arrived in London yet, but if I could get my hands on it and figure out how to cast a fertility spell—”

Laurel burst into laughter. “Don’t you dare! Besides, Rose needs our help now. Finding herself carrying his child will not help matters. We’re speaking of love, not reproduction.”

Dillie’s eyes grew wide. “Rose, you’re blushing! What haven’t you told us? Nicola let something slip this afternoon about an abduction. Never say you abducted him and held him prisoner! At Darnley Cottage? That’s brilliant! A perfect way to separate him from the herd.”

“Not quite. We captured him and locked him away in Lord Darnley’s old hunting lodge, and… somehow, I got locked away with him.”

Daisy gasped. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner? Then what happened? Did he kiss you?”

She gave a reluctant nod.

“Before or after you locked him away?” Laurel asked, soon followed an artillery barrage of questions posed by her curious sisters. They were tossing the questions at her so fast she couldn’t answer them all.

Rose didn’t think her face could grow any hotter. “The appalling scheme did work to some small extent, but mostly it was a disaster. He kissed me before
and
after, if you little snoops must know. But his family completely botched the attempt and he was furious.”

“Before
and
after?” Lily crossed to her desk, picked up a rather large tome, skimmed through the pages until she found the section she was looking for, and began to read. After a moment she set down the book and turned to face them all. “The Emory men have been described as wolves, much like the men in our family, so I wanted to refresh my recollection on the topic.”

Daisy sank onto her bed, sitting on the edge of it with marked impatience. “And?”

“Wolves mate for life. They select the desirable female and mark her with their scent. That Julian kissed you before
and
after is quite telling. It means he has selected you, or at the very least, seriously considered you for his mate.” Lily sighed. “But I know nothing about matters of the heart, Rose. I only know what’s written in these books. He may exhibit the traits of a wolf, but I can’t say for certain that he loves you, only that you were under consideration at one time.”

Laurel frowned. “But he kissed her afterward.”

“Which is promising,” Lily admitted. “I have no answer for you. If he attends the ball this evening, look for subtle clues in his behavior and be guided by those.”

“Rose! Are you ready yet?” their mother called from downstairs. “We’re leaving in twenty minutes. Where are your gloves? Where’s the pearl necklace?”

“Drat, I’m nowhere near ready.” She gave each of the twins a quick hug. “I’ll report back to you in the morning. Thank you, Lily. I know there’s no easy answer. I’ll look for those small clues and I’ll try hard not to get my hopes up.”

Within the hour, Rose and the family elders were entering the Earl of Devon’s glittering ballroom. The play of candlelight against the crystal chandeliers seemed to give the large room an enchanted glow. Rose touched the string of pearls at her throat, feeling a little shabby in these elegant surroundings, even though this was the Farthingale heirloom necklace that was supposed to bring good fortune to each girl in the family who wore it during her debut season.

She needed all the good fortune she could muster. There were so many young ladies in attendance, many of them pretty and most of them of rank, while she was merely a Farthingale. She was proud of her family, to be sure, but how could she compete with the daughters of dukes or earls or barons? Julian was a viscount, heir to an earldom.

Why would he want her?

She glanced around and saw that the older women in attendance wore diamonds and some of the younger women did so as well, along with sapphires and emeralds that sparkled against their bodies. Wealth, elegance, rank. She suddenly felt quite out of place. She noticed Lady Eloise seated beside the long windows and hurried over to greet her, in dire need of a friend. “Rose, you poor dear. Why the worried look? Does this concern Viscount Chatham?”

She sat down beside her. “Am I that obvious?” She glanced around as the orchestra struck a chord to mark the opening of the ball. The crowd began to collect around the dance floor, leaving her and Eloise mostly to themselves. “I don’t think I shall dance at all tonight, Eloise. My heart isn’t in it. I wish to remain by your side.”

“Nonsense, child. You’re no wilted wallflower.”

“Perhaps not, but I’m no diamond either.” She held up her dance card. “See, it’s quite empty.”

“You haven’t given the gentlemen a chance to find you.”

“It won’t matter. I’m not going to dance tonight.”

“That would be a pity,” a deep, rumbling voice said from behind her, “because I’d hoped to keep my word to you.”

Rose turned sharply. “Julian… er, that is, Lord Chatham… how lovely to see you, I think.” Her face began to heat. Did he have to look so magnificent? The black of his elegant jacket stretched perfectly across his broad shoulders.

He arched an eyebrow and grinned. “You think?”

“How are you?” Was it polite to ask this of a gentleman? “So sorry you missed our tea party. It was quite lovely. Cakes! We had cakes and cucumber sandwiches, too. And the twins were in hiding. No one knew where they’d gone until they began firing acorns from the oak tree in our garden.”

He smiled.

“A hot evening, isn’t it?” Where was her fan? “Goodness, quite steamy.” Or was it the look in his eyes that was steaming up her insides?

Julian held out his arm to her. “There’s a nice breeze in the garden. Care to take a turn on the terrace with me before we dance?”

As politeness demanded, he extended his other arm to Lady Eloise. “No, my boy! The last thing you want is an old bat like me intruding. No, indeed. I think I’ll stay right where I am.” She patted Rose’s hand. “Do stop talking and let Chatham get a word in. I think you might like what he has to say.”

Rose turned to Julian in expectation, her stomach tied in a thousand knots. “Will I?”

He grimaced. “Come, let’s talk outdoors.”

Did men in love grimace? Was his intention to let her down gently and allow her to cry her heart out in the relative privacy of Lord Devon’s garden?

Julian led her down the terrace steps and along the pebble path decorated with lanterns that gleamed so that the flower beds appeared magical under the moonlight. “Rose,” he said with an ache to his voice, drawing her behind a massive tree to hide them from view of prying eyes.

She meant to wait for him to start the conversation, but she was a mass of tangled and frayed feelings and the words insisted on bubbling out of her. “Julian, I missed you so much. I’m so glad you’re here now. You look wonderful. You always do. I think you know it.” She shook her head. “No, I didn’t mean that you’re arrogant about it. I mean that you know how I feel about you. But I don’t know how you feel about me now that you’re safe from the clutches of the horrid countess.”

“You haven’t figured it out?” He seemed surprised.

“I can be awfully dense when it comes to men. You, actually. I don’t know any other men in a romantic way. No one but you has ever kissed me. So if you wish to let me down gently, then do get on about it. I’ll cry, but I’ll… well, it will take me quite a while to get over you. If ever. In truth, I don’t know if it’s possible. But it’s best to just tell me what’s on your mind and get it over with.”

“Indeed, let’s get it over with.” He placed his hands on either side of her and pinned her gently against the tree. She felt the slight scratch of bark against her skin even though he was careful not to hurt her. “Rose, I love you.”

She blinked her eyes, suddenly feeling nothing but wonderful. Had she heard him right? She’d wanted to hear those words so badly that she might have imagined them. “What?”

“I’ve loved you from the moment I set eyes on you, although mine were stinging from all the smoke in the air after your kiln exploded and it took a while for them to stop watering long enough for me to see you clearly.” He pressed his body lightly against hers, sending hot thrills coursing through her. “I fell
hopelessly
in love with you when you drew that portrait of Emily as a bright red poppy.”

He placed a hot kiss upon the base of her neck. “I knew I would love you forever when you convinced my idiot brothers to stand still for you so that you could draw them as pirates.” He placed an even hotter kiss at her throat. “I loved you when I saw you in the library at Darnley Cottage. I’m amazed I survived the encounter, for my entire body exploded in flames at the sight of you in that sheer nightgown. It hid nothing.
Not a single blessed curve.
And did I mention that you have the most blessedly perfect curves in Creation?”

She tried to breath, but her heart had shot into her throat and the butterflies in her stomach were insanely flailing their wings, out of control with joy.
Oh dear!

She managed a breathy moan as his lips moved lower on her body to the swell of her breasts, and then he kissed his way upward once more. His eyes held the promise of much more to come so she wasn’t quite so disappointed that he was moving upward instead of downward on her body. “Rose, I loved you at the hunting lodge, even after I knew you were part of that lunatic scheme. I’m taking you back there. I’m going to finish what I started.”

She smiled. “I loved that kitchen table.”

“Me, too. I’m going to have it embossed and preserved for all time.” She felt the rise and fall of his chest with each rumble of his soft laughter. “I loved the way you responded to me while on it. I love you, Rose.” He lowered his mouth to hers and possessively claimed what she’d been eager to give him all along. Her love. Forever.

The orchestra struck up a waltz at that moment, the melodic notes dancing like butterflies on the light breeze, ever so sweet as he continued to kiss her to the rhythm of his own powerful need. “Dance with me, Rose,” he whispered against her ear and eased her away from the tree.

The silver moon and stars gleamed brighter as he took her into his arms. The heady scent of roses and lavender filled the air. He twirled her upon the grass and evening dew, and it felt right and magical, for this was their first dance and she was nestled in his arms where she belonged. As the music came to an end, Julian kissed her lightly on the lips and then drew back to smile at her. He withdrew a small box from his pocket and opened it for her to view. “A ring?” she mumbled numbly, gazing at the exquisite sapphire surrounded by a circle of small, glistening diamonds.

His smile broadened. “Yours, if you’ll have me. Rose Olivia Lorelei Farthingale, will you marry me?”

She ought to have counted to ten and then given a dignified acceptance. Instead, she threw her arms about his neck, loving the heat and power of his body against hers and the gentle strength of his arms as he enfolded her protectively in them. “Of course I will. You know I will. My heart is yours and always has been.”

“Good, because I’ll accept no one but you as my viscountess.”

She laughed and shook her head, her eyes tearing with joy as he slipped the ring on her finger. “I never imagined myself in that role. It feels right with you.”

“Of course it is. You’re my Rose. No one else’s.”

“The viscount’s rose.” She smiled up at him. “I rather like it.”

“So do I,” he said and gave her a scorching kiss to prove it.

ROSE PUT HER
arms around Julian as he carried her into his bedroom, arrogantly grinning as he noticed the pink flames on her cheeks. They were alone for the evening in his London townhouse, the servants having all been given the day off in honor of their wedding. Not even Prinny had dared disturb him, even though he was still investigating the matter of the inner circle spy. She sensed Julian had an inkling about the identity of this elusive agent of Napoleon, for he’d taken a moment from their wedding day to talk privately to the Duke of Edgeware, and then the duke and John had hurried off.