The Viscount's Rose (The Farthingale Series Book 5) (33 page)

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.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “My family means everything to me. But I’m not an infant in leading strings. I’m a bloody viscount. I ought to have their trust and respect.”

“Because you’re a viscount? It’s merely a title.”

“They ought to respect me for
me
. I’ve earned it.”

She knew of his prowess on the battlefield and the lives he’d saved because of his intelligence and bravery. She also knew that he was adept at business and had worked hard to maintain the family’s holdings after his parents had suddenly died. “Your father would have been very proud of you.”

He was admirable in so many ways. For this reason, if there was something to be learned about what went on between a man and a woman, she wanted Julian to be her teacher. In truth, she couldn’t imagine feeling this way about any other man. How could she when he overwhelmed her senses?

Everything about him was a jolt to her composure, the way his body moved with the grace and sleek power of a wolf, the way his eyes shone with kindness and humor, the way his mouth curved in a slightly lopsided smile that was at the same time boyish and quietly seductive.

What confused her was his connection to Valentina. Despite his good looks and obvious charm, he wasn’t the rakish sort. She sensed he was a man of honor and would be loyal and true to the woman he loved.

So why was he holding her hands?

Why had he kissed her with the force of storm waves crashing to shore? Goodness, he’d completely swept her away on a tide of passion. No prim kisses for her. No, indeed. Each touch of their lips sent her reeling and each time he put his arms around her, she felt drawn into a swirling pool of pleasure.

Even now, his eyes were a maelstrom of smoky desire, as though he wanted to swallow her up whole and do all those naughty things to her he’d hinted about a moment ago. Not for one night, but for a lifetime. She understood expressions; she had to in order to capture the essence of a person when drawing portraits.

Julian was looking at her in an I-want-you-as-my-mate way.

She shook her head to clear her muddled thoughts. He couldn’t be. He was on the verge of proposing to Valentina. His actions simply didn’t make sense.

What was she missing? “Julian, I think we must speak of an unsafe topic.”

He was instantly wary. She felt his tension through his fingers that remained entwined in hers. It was telling that he hadn’t drawn them away. “Such as?”

“Your countess.” There had to be a logical explanation. He couldn’t possibly love that woman. So why was he courting her? That he was so attentive and fawning over her like a doting dandy simply felt amiss. Was she blackmailing him?

“That topic is out of bounds.”

“Why?” He wasn’t the sort who would care if sordid secrets about him came out in the open. Nor did he seem the sort to allow the person who’d leaked those secrets to go unscathed.

“Enough, Rose. I will not discuss it.” Until this moment, Julian had been gentle with her, but there was no mistaking the hard, lethal edge to his words. She was stepping into forbidden territory, and he would not indulge her trespass.

She’d seen that flash of steel in his gaze when he’d taken it upon himself to deal with the saboteur of her kiln. Those who crossed him would not escape punishment. That’s why she was so worried about Nicola. Julian loved his sister, but he was going to make her suffer before he ultimately forgave her.

Would he do the same to her when he found out about her involvement in their scheme? She shook out of the thought and concentrated on him, and that brought her back to Valentina.

Why pretend she was the love of his life? What hold did she have over him? Since Rose had ruled out the possibility that it was a deep, dark secret about himself, it had to be someone else’s secret he was protecting. Someone he loved. A family member? No, it didn’t seem likely. A friend, perhaps? A good friend, one he held dear to his heart and felt honor bound to rescue.

Oh, dear. That friend must have gotten himself into serious trouble.

But what sort of trouble? Murder? She dismissed the possibility. Julian would not condone cold-blooded killing. Still, this secret was something dire, something so awful that his friend had begged for Julian’s help.

It still didn’t explain why Julian had agreed to sacrifice his own happiness and chain himself to the horrid countess for the rest of his days. How loyal did his friend expect him to be?

“You’re nibbling your lip,” he said with a groan, interrupting her concentration.

“I’m thinking about you.” This mystery merited investigation. She’d talk the problem over with her sisters as soon as she returned to London. They’d come up with a plan. She’d invite Nicola into the discussion, assuming Julian allowed his sister to return to London as well. Right now, he seemed inclined to banish her to the Scottish highlands, to a remote family property where she might never be seen or heard from again. “Your actions simply don’t make sense.”

“Rose, I will not discuss it.” He drew away and began to pace across the kitchen like an agitated wolf locked in a cage, silently stalking from end to end in an obvious attempt to subdue his anger.

What had she done? Poked a finger into a raw, open wound? She wasn’t about to stop. “There is an attraction between us that cannot be denied.”

He glowered at her. “Don’t make too much of it.”

“I’m not. You forget that I’m an artist, that I understand the nuances of a person’s expressions. That’s how I distill the essence of a person and capture him or her on canvas. I know what’s fake and what’s real.”

“And?”

She groaned softly. “You’re real. Everything wonderful about you is real. There’s a natural valor that emanates from within you, shining outward with a golden warmth. As for your countess, there’s a brutal coldness that pours out of her in icy waves. The sun dies in her presence.”

“That’s rather dramatic. You don’t know her.” He sounded unconvincing.

“Nor do I wish to know her. More important, I sense that you would have nothing to do with her unless there was a compelling reason. Whose life are you trying to save?”

He strode forward and loomed over her, his face so close to hers that she was almost blinded by the flash of anger in his eyes. “Stop. I’m not your bloody concern. My friends are not your bloody concern. The discussion is over.”

His warning was even more proof that the situation was dire. She returned his glower.

“Rose, you cannot speak of this to anyone. Not my sister. Not your sisters. Not anyone.”

“We Farthingales are mostly wonderful, but we do have some irritating qualities. For one, we don’t like to be ordered about or told what we can and cannot do or told to stop looking at a puzzle when it’s so obviously begging to be solved.”

He was still looming over her, his every muscle straining. She wanted to set her hands on him and feel every flex and tug. However, he looked angry enough to bite her hand if she dared raise it to touch him. “That’s more than one irritating quality. I believe you’ve mentioned at least three.”

“I understand that you’re hoping to intimidate me by hovering over me in that imposing and frowning manner, but I must tell you that your nearness is quite thrilling to me and is shooting delightful tingles of desire up and down my spine.” She sighed. “I know you won’t hurt me, Julian. You may kiss me, if you wish. I’d rather like that.”

He drew away as though scalded and cursed under his breath as he resumed pacing like a caged wolf. “For pity’s sake, Rose. You mustn’t tell me such things. You don’t even realize what the word
desire
implies. Desire is…” He was furiously rubbing the nape of his neck and still stalking from one end of the kitchen to the other. “Desire is hot and sweaty, it leaves you breathless and spent.”

“In each other’s arms?”

He shot fireballs at her with his angrily blazing eyes. “I am not going to teach you about desire. Not tonight, that’s for damn certain.”

“But you will another time?” She knew that she was pushing him over the edge of his endurance, but someone had to break through his wall of reserve and find out what was really going on. She understood that he was involved in something dangerous. But he wasn’t the danger, certainly not to her. The countess was. She knew to keep her distance from that heartless woman.