by Brianna York
Rob remembered the events of last night and sighed. He knew that he needed to make Matthew and Alex aware of Mowbray’s intentions toward Rosalind but he felt terrible about his role in drawing the man’s attention to her. “Would you still want to be my valet if my circumstances were reduced a great deal, Jasper?” Rob asked conversationally as the valet lathered his face in preparation for his morning shave.
Jasper graced his employer with a knowing look. As with most house servants, Jasper was aware of much of his employer’s private life and he knew that his employer’s finances were in some disarray. He knew that there were still resources left untapped by the household to save money, but he felt Rob’s worry about the situation every day. “I cannot imagine working in any other household, My Lord,” Jasper said confidently, applying the first strokes of the razor.
Rob felt somewhat better hearing this and relaxed as much as he could manage given his continuing inner turmoil over the dream which had woken him, and his concerns over Viscount Longford. He let his mind drift as his valet shaved him. He thought idly about his friends and their recent weddings. He tried to imagine being married. When and if he married would he have the kind of marriage that Matthew and Alex could boast of? A wedding made for real love rather than connections and fortune looked quite attractive to him from the outside, but he found that he could not think of what kind of woman would be required to keep him from growing bored. He sighed quietly and turned his thoughts away from the topic of marriage. He knew in his heart of hearts that he would need to marry for money if he was going to save his title from financial ruin and the thought was not appealing to him at all.
His mind drifted to thoughts of Minerva, the actress whom he had been keeping for the past Season. He typically tired of mistresses after the first part of the Season but Minerva was clever and a bit older than his usual selections. She had reached the age where she was often cast in elder female roles and her income had slacked somewhat as the blush of youth had faded for her. Rob still thought her a very fine-looking woman and appreciated her experience on many different levels. He decided that he would go to see her tonight. It had been a few days while he was away at his country estate. Maybe losing himself in her charms would help ease his worries.
“Please send a note around to Berkley Square when we are done here,” Rob told his valet. He wiped his face with the hot towel provided by his valet, feeling much more human than he had fifteen minutes before.
“Yes, My Lord,” Jasper replied as he offered the first articles of clothing to his employer. “What time shall I say?” The valet knew precisely who lived in Rob’s Berkley Square address and likewise knew the protocol his employer liked to observe when visiting his mistress.
Rob thought a moment as he shrugged into his coat and adjusted the lapels. “I think that nine o’clock should suffice. I have no wish to be out late tonight.”
“As you wish, My Lord,” Jasper said quietly as he moved about the room cleaning up.
“Thank you for your work this morning, Jasper,” Rob said as he brushed his hair before the mirror and stuck a bright blue sapphire stick pin into his neck cloth. “You have made a living man out of a corpse.”
Jasper chuckled at that, regarding his employer’s reflection. “If I may say so, My Lord, I imagine that your worst days are likely a far cry better than the best days for most men.”
Rob grinned at his valet for a moment. He knew that he was regarded as one of the best-looking bachelors in London but being around his very attractive friends sometimes made him forget his own worth. “Well, we will never be able to make me quite tall enough but we can at least make the best of the rest of me, eh?”
Jasper chuckled at that. His employer might be a bit on the shorter side but he was trim and fit, wore clothes with envious ease and was blessed with a classically handsome face. He had heard the whispers of the maids over dinner in the servant’s hall and he knew well what effect Rob had on the fairer sex.
“I may not be home tonight, Jasper,” Rob said as he passed the other man on the way out. “Don’t wait up past about eleven of the clock for me.” He clapped the valet on the shoulder fondly and hurried down the hall.
“Good day, My Lord,” Rob’s butler, Byrd said when his employer arrived in the front hall after descending the stairs from the upstairs hall. “Will you be breaking your fast before I call for the carriage?” Byrd had a very deep voice that was significantly at odds with his tall and thin frame.
“I shall eat something, but I shall not be long. Call the carriage in a quarter of an hour if you please,” Rob said as he passed through the foyer and headed toward the breakfast room.”
“As you wish, My Lord,” Byrd said in his melodious baritone before bowing and withdrawing to attend to his duties. Rob spared a moment to wonder at the unnatural silence of the man’s foot falls before stepping into the breakfast room. He waved off the footman in the room and poured his own coffee. He helped himself to some kippers and a breakfast roll which he ate with some haste as he scanned the morning paper.
His eyes were caught by his name in the gossip and on dits section of the paper. He frowned slightly as he read, “Lord Coulthurst was seen at the Countess of Pleasant’s soiree two days ago. Despite the hopes of the eligible female population of London out for this year’s Season, the Earl kept company with the hostess and her brother, not deigning to dance. He was seen leaving for the card room early in the night. Perhaps the Earl will not be joining his closest friend, the Duke of Dunsaney, in matrimony anytime soon despite the dearest wishes of all unmarried ladies of good society.”
He scowled and folded the paper with a flick of his wrist and polished off his coffee. His thoughts turned again to the very inappropriate kiss that Rosy had pressed on him three months ago. He wished he could stop thinking about it. It had been the kiss of a woman with little worldly experience and it had been entirely as chaste as such a gesture should be. And yet, something about the innocence and freedom with which she had bestowed it clung to his memory. He realized that he had never had anything to do with any woman who was not supremely experienced in the craft of flirtation and physical affection. He tried to chase away thoughts of Rosalind Fenton’s lips and rose from the table sharply. He winced at the brief protest of his healing ankle but thanked the moment of physical discomfort for clearing his mind some. He needed to keep his thoughts away from Rosalind the woman and think of her as Rosalind the girl he had known since she was in the nursery.
“Is there anything else that I can do for you, My Lord?” Byrd asked as he offered his employer his hat, gloves and walking stick at the door.
Rob shook his head. “I shall be out for a few hours, Byrd. You may do as you wish with that time. You know best what needs to be attended to.” He noticed some patches on the wall near the door where the paint was chipped as he settled his hat on his head. He did some quick mental calculations and decided that the London house would have to wait for repairs and a fresh coat of paint until next Season. He had just approved repairs and some other improvements that had long been needed for his country home, Coulthurst House, in Sussex. There was not enough money for both households to receive attention at the same time.
“Grosvenor Square, Duke Dunsaney’s house,” Rob directed his coachman Sims, as he climbed into the carriage.
“Yes, My Lord,” Sims replied, the sound of his Liverpool upbringing clear in his voice. He called cues to the horses and the carriage rocked smoothly into motion. Rob leaned back against the squabs and pulled out his pocket watch. Good, he would be on time. The drive from his address to Matthew’s house was not long. If it had not been raining Rob would have just ridden one of his horses. He allowed the rocking of the carriage to lull him into a sense of peace that was at odds with his inner turmoil.
Matthew and Alex would know what to do. They always knew what to do.
Chapter Three
“Will you have tea, or something stronger?” Alex asked Rob as he followed her into the
morning room off the foyer of Matthew’s house. She and her husband, Baron Tyndale, were residing in Matthew’s house for the remainder of the Season while renovations were completed on the London townhouse they had recently purchased.
“Tea will be fine,” Rob said as he shed his hat and gloves. “Good morning, Matthew,” he said to his friend as he stepped into the room.
Matthew turned away from the window overlooking the square with a smile on his face, “Good morning, Rob. To what do we owe this pleasure? Usually you are scarcely out of bed by this hour.”
Rob nodded at that. “Do not remind me, old man,” he said with a chuckle as he accepted the tea cup offered to him by Alex. “You see the evidence of my lack of sleep in my request for tea. Vastly out of character.”
Matthew smiled at that and took his own cup of tea from his sister. “I presume that there is something that you wish to discuss?”
Rob leaned back in his chair and took a bracing sip of his hot tea. “Do you both remember our encounter with Viscount Longford yesterday morning?”
Alex’s expression sobered at that some. “Indeed. He seemed to evince a great deal of interest in Rosalind.”
Rob nodded. “Precisely. No one could miss his interest, of course. I decided that I would make a suggestion to him that he might leave off bothering her when I saw him in the card room last night.”
“Ah good show,” Matthew replied, reaching for a tea sandwich from the tray. “You know him much more intimately that any of the rest of us. I am glad that you were able to dissuade him from dallying with her any further.”
Rob shook his head and sighed. “That is just it. I believe that I instead managed to somehow encourage him. He offered to make a bet with me about which of us could catch her in marriage first. I of course told him that I would not deign to engage in such a contest.”
Alex frowned. “I should say not. Did he truly think that you would agree to such a wager?” She shook her head in some disgust.
“I admit that his comfort in offering me such a loathsome bet makes me reconsider the kind of company I have been keeping these past few years, but that is neither here nor there at the moment,” Rob answered her. He raked a hand through his hair in frustration. “The material point I am trying to make is that he assured me that he would now pursue her in earnest even if I would not take his wager. He said that he was certainly her social equal and might truly be seeking to marry.”
“He’s a daring nodcock in any case,” Matthew said, shaking his head. “I cannot imagine Rosalind’s father countenancing such a courtship. He knows well what kind of libertine Mowbray has revealed himself to be over the years.”
“That is as it may be,” Alex replied. “But the Viscount is not incorrect that he is her social equal with a large fortune. If one discounts his prior behavior and associations, he is a more than acceptable match for her.”
Rob sighed. “That is my fear. I imagine that he can be bothered to make the effort to seem like a potential suitor for long enough to attach her even if it is all a game to him.”
“And we all saw how Rosy looked at him yesterday,” Matthew said and they all exchanged a look.
“I will speak with her,” Alex said. “I believe that her father wants to be away to the country in two weeks’ time. Hopefully the Viscount is not aware of the date of their removal to the country. He may not have the chance to insert himself into her imagination too thoroughly before they depart.”
“I sincerely hope so,” Rob replied, rubbing his temples.
“Don’t worry so much, Rob,” Matthew said. “Young infatuation so often wears thin very quickly. Rosy is wise beyond her years as well. I do believe that she knows not to entangle herself with Longford.”
Rob tried to be appeased by this. He could not still the curl of worry around his heart though. His innermost self knew why he was so concerned. Rosy had looked at him with open infatuation too often for him not to know how she might be feeling about the Viscount.
∞ ∞ ∞
“Kiss me, Rob,” Rosy said in a whisper, her face inches from Rob’s. His dark blue eyes drew her like a magnet and she felt as if she could not look away from their stare.
“Just a kiss, my love?” he said, his deep voice like its own caress. “Would you not like to have more?”
“You will ruin me, My Lord and then what?” she whispered back. He only laughed at that and his mouth came down on hers. She knew that she should not know how to kiss him in this way, but in her dream she knew all the steps to the dance.
His hands cupped her face and then drifted over her breasts, lifting their weight and cupping them gently. She arched against his hands, wanting more but not knowing for sure what she desired. She felt dizzy and yet oddly focused on the center of herself-- the center of a whirlwind that she was barely able to control.
“Rob, I have always loved you so,” she murmured, her breath coming fast in her throat.
“Rob? Why would you call me Rob?” the voice was the same but the tone was not. The kindness and patience had leached from it to be replaced with a saucy note of irreverent arrogance. Rosy opened her eyes and it was no longer Rob touching her body but Viscount Longford. His hazel eyes were amused as he rubbed his hands over her breasts, and his well-cut mouth was curled into a mocking smile.
“You know you want me more than you want him,” the Viscount said, pushing her skirts aside and rising above her. “I am twice the man he is.” He leaned closer to kiss her. “Let me have you, Rosalind,” he whispered as his mouth came down on hers.
Rosy woke with a start, her heart racing and the sheets a tangle around her. She raised a hand to her tingling lips. How could her mind conjure such a dream? It seemed very cruel to be having such inappropriate dreams about men she could not have. She sighed and sat up in bed. She pushed her long hair back off her face. It had come loose from its braid in her thrashing. She reached over and rang the bell for her abigail and flopped back down onto her pillow. She closed her eyes and tried to reach back to the beginning of her dream when Rob had been making love to her. She smiled softly at the memory of his handsome face and his kisses. Abruptly her mind returned to the rough passionate embrace of the Viscount and his lethally handsome face as she had imagined them. She felt her heart leap and her body respond instantly to the thought of him. She frowned a bit but acknowledged what she was feeling.
“You are attracted to the Viscount,” she said quietly. “And what shall you do about that, Rosy?”
“Pardon, My Lady?” Hester said as she stepped into the room carrying an ewer of hot water and a small tray with Rosy’s morning chocolate on it.
“Nothing, Hester,” Rosy said as she pushed herself to the edge of the bed. “Just talking to myself.”
“I see,” Hester said in reply. “Shall I brush your hair, My Lady?”
“Please,” Rosy answered, coming to sit before her cheval glass and taking a sip of her chocolate. She watched her abigail tend to her hair for a moment. “Hester,” she said then. “Have you a beau?”
Hester glanced up sharply at her mistress. “A beau? Not anyone that I should countenance, My Lady,” she said carefully.
Rosy waved a hand at that. “I was not trying to alarm you, Hester,” she said. “I suppose I am just looking for some advice.”
“I am not sure that I am fit to be offering advice to you, My Lady,” Hester said as she began to arrange Rosy’s hair.
Rosy was silent another moment. “Have you never thought you were in love, Hester?” she asked then. She watched the other young woman’s face for a reaction. “Has a man never made it clear that he might pursue you even if it is not advisable for you to allow it?”
Hester glanced at her mistress in the mirror, then smiled softly. “Oh indeed, My Lady. I know of what you speak.”
“What did you do, Hester?” Rosy asked, her voice eager.
Hester leaned over to gather hair pins off the dressing table. When she replied, she spoke around the pins in her mouth. �
�Well, I am not a woman of means and I cannot afford to find myself in a delicate way, My Lady. I refused him.”
“I see,” Rosy said quietly, setting her cup of chocolate down on the dressing table.
“That does not mean that I did not steal a few kisses before I did though, My Lady,” she said, her hands busy with her task. She met Rosy’s eyes in the mirror and the girls shared a companionable laugh then.
Her heart feeling lighter, Rosy allowed Hester to help her dress and then she left her rooms. She had slept longer than she intended and she had missed visiting hours. She decided she had best send a note around to Alex to let her know that she would not be able to come by for a morning visit as she had planned. She did not see any footmen or the family butler in the foyer so she went in to the morning room.
She sat at the table and allowed the footmen to prepare a plate for her and bring her a cup of tea. “Please bring me some paper and a quill, “she said to the servant, tucking in to her breakfast. When he returned, she set down her cup of tea and began to write a note to Alex.
“My Lady, two notes have arrived for you,” Hayward, the family butler said as he entered the room.
“Thank you, Hayward,” she said as she took the letters off the silver tray he offered her. She abandoned her own letter and broke the seal on the message. She did not recognize the family crest pressed into the wax.
My Lady,
I hope you might consent to go for a drive or a ride with me tomorrow morning. Shall we say around ten o’clock? Write a reply back if you please.
Yours affectionately,
Viscount Longford
Rosy looked at the note, her heart pounding as the memory of her dream came rushing back to her. When she had managed to calm herself somewhat, she wrote on the bottom of the note.