His Colonial Rose

by Vanessa Brooks

  Once mounted, he cantered off in the direction Rose had disappeared. After an hour of fruitless searching he was about to give up and return home, when he saw Devil charge across the hill in front of him. Benedict touched Ariel on the rump with his crop and gave chase. Devil was obviously flagging now, especially with the way Rose had been riding him at full gallop and for such a long while. Ariel would never have caught up with the much younger horse, had Devil not been winded.

  Benedict saw Rose glance back over her shoulder and, spotting him, she stuck out her tongue, urging Devil onward. It was an unfortunate choice of behaviour on her part. Had she slowed and made a pretty apology to Benedict, he might, just might, have forgiven her but then sticking out her tongue and racing on regardless, riding an already exhausted horse to boot, sealed her fate as far as he was concerned.

  With grim countenance, Lord Mortimer did something he had never thought to do. He hunted down his quarry, one Miss Rose Randolph, as determinedly as any hunter of wildlife might ever do. She led her fiancé a merry old dance and, more than once, Benedict could hear her mocking laughter floating back toward him on the chilly autumn breeze.

  Grinding his teeth, Benedict had to admit that Rose was a fine horsewoman, reckless and thoughtless for certain but nevertheless a jolly good rider. It wouldn't save her from his wrath, Oh no, nothing could do that now, unless of course, the silly chit fell and broke her neck. Benedict froze. A dreadful feeling of fear washed over him. What Rose was doing was terribly dangerous, what would he do if something should happen to her?

  Astonished, Benedict realized in that moment that he was truly falling in love with the bewitching, American minx. Rose drove him from fury to desire in the blink of an eye. He had been so perplexed by her, so conflicted, that until just now, when he contemplated the thought of her injured, or worse, Benedict felt quite faint. He was unaware just how deep his feelings ran for Rose. By gad! He loved the girl, when had that happened? This sudden realization made him incandescent with rage, for here she was risking her life and their future together. He would not allow her to do that, not now and not ever.

  Spurred on by this inner revelation, Benedict wheeled his mount and doubled back; he cut across the far field and hid in the thicket of trees. He would cross Rose's path when she turned and ran for the stables. Benedict spurred Ariel out from the shadow of the trees and rode straight for Devil and Rose.

  Benedict bellowed loudly, "Pull up I say. Halt!" The exhausted animal thankfully obeyed and stood sweating and trembling as Benedict grasped the reins. "Let them go, Rose, you've had your fun and Devil is worn out. You will allow me to lead you both home." The little madam glowered at him but nevertheless dropped the reins. They walked the remainder of the way back to the stables.

  Once in the yard, Benedict dismounted and handed his horse over to the waiting groom. He went to aid Rose in dismounting from Devil but he wasn't quite quick enough. The girl took one look at his black scowl, leapt down from the horse and fled with Benedict immediately giving chase. He caught her as she tugged the little used door leading into the boot room and he decided this would be just perfect for his purpose. He dragged the protesting Rose along as he kicked open the boot room door. The two dogs were sound asleep in their basket and jumped up, pleased to have company. As the mood of the visitors penetrated their sensitive doggy souls, the pair soon left the room in pursuit of calmer company.

  Benedict hauled the struggling Rose around to stand in front of him and gripped her shoulders. She tried to kick his shins and her exertions loosened her hair which tumbled wildly down her back. Her face was florid and her eyes flashed lividly. She was no match for her enraged fiancée, however, who was absolutely determined to teach her a much needed lesson in obedience and manners.

  He shook her until her teeth rattled. "Rose!" he barked, "by Hades, stop this behaviour at once and listen to me!"

  Rose gave Benedict the most hateful look he had ever seen. She did something absolutely unforgivable in a lady—she spat at him. The gob of phlegm stuck to his riding coat where it landed.

  Rose froze, still at last as she realised that the line of behaviour that she had just crossed would brook her no reprieve.

  Benedict took out his silk handkerchief and wiped the offending mess off his coat. He flung the kerchief away into a bucket and turned forbiddingly back to Rose. She gulped.

  "Last night you were unaccountably rude to guests in this house…"

  Rose screeched, "I was rude! That's rich! Those two insufferable bitches were…"

  "Rose, you will desist right now and listen to me!" Benedict grabbed her and shook her once again. She opened her mouth but obviously thought better of it when she saw his eyes narrow dangerously.

  "This morning I came to find you, to scold you for your part in last night's drama but also to tell you that I threw Lady Amelia and Lady Margaret out of the house as soon as you had been sent to your room. I told them they were unwelcome at Merriton Hall from this day forward."

  If he weren't so angry, Benedict would have laughed at the comical expression on Rose's face. She obviously hadn't expected him to stand up to Lady Amelia and her vicious tongue.

  "Now then, how many times have I told you to stay away from Devil?" He waited for Rose's reply but as the silence dragged on, it was obvious that she had no intention of answering him.

  "Very well, I have told you at least half a dozen times to stay away from him." Benedict held up his hand for silence as Rose began to sputter.

  "I know that you are a good horsewoman, but you took an enormous risk with your own life and with Devil's today. He is too big and powerful for you and yet still you rode him, despite knowing the risks. Then you rode the poor beast almost into the ground. Supposing he had been blown and had to be shot, what then?"

  Benedict placed a finger over Rose's lips, as once again she tried to argue her case.

  "I have told you that I require obedience from you, especially where your safety and that of others is concerned. I also believe the punishment should fit the crime. I am going to take my riding crop to your disobedient bottom half a dozen times and believe me when I tell you, my darling, this will hurt you far more than it will ever hurt me!"

  Rose's eyes flew open at this shocking pronouncement. She made a calculated dash for the door, only to find herself scooped up and swung into the air, head down, landing over a solid masculine thigh.

  Her squeals echoed around the high ceilinged room, as did the evil chuckle her beloved let loose as he raised his crop high and thwacked it downward with a satisfying whoosh upon Rose's upturned bottom. Rose's mouth opened wide with shock as she processed the pain. She hollered aloud, kicked and struggled with all her might. It was to no avail, for Benedict was so much bigger and so much stronger than she. He was also determined that she should receive a much needed lesson in attitude adjustment.

  Rose had the protection of her petticoat and thick riding skirt over her bottom but the crop was a fearsome instrument of punishment. Benedict knew from first-hand experience how much the crop stung. He had been punished by his father for riding his father's own horse when he was twelve years old. It had been a salient lesson and one which he never forgot.

  He hoped that this spanking would impart the same relevant message to Rose, cementing the message that he was the alpha and she the beta within their relationship. With each sizzling strike of the crop, Rose reared up and howled but still Benedict spanked on.

  When Rose had received six scalding whacks across her tender buttocks, Benedict threw the crop aside and continued to spank her with his hand.

  Finally, Rose slumped. All the fight had left her and she cried piteously. Benedict regarded that moment as the point that Rose accepted her punishment. He drew her upright and into his arms, holding Rose against his chest until her weeping had subsided. Then his mouth came down hard upon hers as he kissed her ruthlessly.

  This was a conquering kiss, a kiss that owned, a kiss that sealed a pact betwixt man and woma
n.

  A kiss that claimed a mate...

  Chapter Ten

  Rose was in love and there was no help for it. The fact that she could respond to his kiss after such a painful spanking was the simple proof. No matter how she tried to resist Benedict's charms or remain angry with him, she just couldn't do it. God help her, but the thought of a stinging spank coming down upon her bottom, delivered by Benedict, made her flush with such desire. Rose rubbed her temples and dubiously wondered about such feelings, I'm a hussy and that's all there is to it. Though Benedict's pursuit did not diminish, Rose's secret longing for him and her confusing attraction, caused her to withdraw from his company during the final days of their stay at Merriton house. She made sure he never found her alone again.

  Rose sat in the window seat of her bedchamber, thinking. She gazed out across the rolling English countryside, her thoughts on how the dark haired, blue eyed English lord caused her to go weak in the knees and even weaker in resolve. She thought back to her last encounter with him, two days ago. She had wandered into the library seeking some respite from his overwhelming presence. The library's walls were stacked with books and she perused a myriad of topics. They were truly a wonder, classics of literature, science, military strategy and many, many more. She would happily spend years reading all these books after they were wed. Just as she reached up to pluck one from a shelf, a strong arm encased her waist and a deep chuckle sounded in her ear.

  "I have you ensnared, my dear little Rose, and you have surprised me yet again. I did not expect such a youthful beauty to be hiding away in my father's musty old library." Benedict turned her in his arms and Rose placed the book she had chosen between them, however, it offered her little protection.

  "I simply wish to enlarge my knowledge of the world. I don't think you appreciate what a treasure you have here in this room, Benedict."

  He lowered his lips and began kissing her neck. Rose shivered as he lightly nipped her earlobe.

  "Oh, I appreciate it well enough, my lovely. Indeed, you are such a treasure you are certainly worth more than all the knowledge contained in all the books of the entire world."

  "I was referring to your library of books, sir."

  The book slipped lower in her grasp as Benedict cast an erotic spell upon her. He managed to gently caress a breast. When his thumb rubbed across her taut nipple, the book fell to the floor with a thump. Rose tried to retrieve it but Benedict would have none of it. Drawing her even closer, his lips came down upon hers. He smoothly convinced her lips to open as his tongue nudged insistently. Rose wound her arms around his neck and knotted her fingers in his hair. As his hands continued their work on her breasts, she arched against him. Her hands caught up in his long dark locks unconsciously pulling his head down to her. Benedict smiled into her mouth.

  "Gently, my love, gently…" He reached up and took her wrists, unwrapping her fingers from his hair and placing her arms about his neck. In just a moment, his nimble fingers had loosened the front of her dress. Rose felt a searing heat as naked flesh met naked flesh. Her sharp intake of breath as he caressed her bare breasts caused him to groan, his pego pressed tight against his fall.

  The sound of footsteps echoed in the hall. Rose's eyes flew wide and she could not miss the look of aggravation on Benedict's face but before a knock could sound at the door, Benedict quickly drew her dress together and said urgently, "Hide behind the settee, my love, I will only be a moment."

  Rose hurried behind the couch and crouched low, holding the front of her dress together. What could she have been thinking? If someone had caught her in such a compromising position her reputation would have been totally ruined. She had forgotten herself in the midst of passion. Benedict opened the door to see Roberts standing there. Rose managed to creep to the opposite side of the room and disappear while Benedict was distracted by Robert's questions about the stream of departing house guests.

  Rose made it up to her room without being seen but it took a tremendous effort to avoid Benedict the following day. She was afraid his frustration would send him to pound demandingly on her door, but so far, he hadn't gone to that length. Here she was again with the same dilemma as ever. The nagging thought kept going around and around in her head. Benedict Lord Mortimer, Earl of Straddock, made her swoon and her attraction to him was overwhelming. His penchant for taking her in hand only caused her attraction to increase. He could be so persuasive, in many ways, he was more domineering than her father. Now that thought gave her pause for concern. Did she really want to yoke herself forever to such a dominant man? Lusting after a man was one thing but falling in love was totally another. Benedict had told her that he was growing in fondness for her and was looking forward to their wedding but could she truly trust him? Could she really give up on returning home to Virginia again? Rose gave a frustrated sigh as she changed her dress.

  She thought of her friend, Emily Jones. She must have arrived in Bath by now. She wondered if Emily and Miss Endicott were going to stay in England permanently. Perhaps if she could simply talk things through with a friend it would help to ease her mind. There was no one else she could talk to.

  Rose knew that Benedict's sister Imogene couldn't wait for their marriage. Her ladies maid, Eloise, encouraged her to obey her father and accept this marriage. Henry Randolph himself would certainly be no help in guiding her. He sensed her growing attraction for Benedict and proudly proclaimed how right his decision to commit her to this marriage had been. The whole arrangement made Rose utterly furious... and dreadfully confused.

  The deep seated sense of betrayal she felt towards her father did not relent. If anything, it had grown more intense. Again her mind flitted to Benedict. He was an English lord and he was used to the expectations of his rank. Yet, somehow, in her heart, Rose doubted that even the King of England could force him into a marriage he did not want, which meant that he must truly have some feeling for her.

  Perhaps Benedict simply thought she would fulfil her duty as his wife and produce him an 'heir and spare', after all, he had made it plain that he wanted to bed her, but once she gave herself to him, then what would her role be as an English Countess? Would Benedict become bored and then disappointed with her? Could she bear him to fall out of love with his simple colonial wife and perhaps eventually set her aside?

  Benedict was so strong, handsome and charming. Rose thought about how safe she felt when he took her in his arms. The confident arrogance he displayed the night he escorted her onto the dance floor was unforgettable. He did not seem to care a jot about the hoity-toity biddies of the ton who had whispered about her behind her back. She had once thought her father did not care for the opinion of others either but in that she was terribly wrong; could she be wrong about Benedict too?

  Once the visit was over and it became time for her to leave Merriton Hall, Rose feared she was more confused than when she first arrived. She sighed as she heard the coach crunching on the gravel forecourt as it rolled around to the front entrance of the house.

  Rose quickly crossed the room to retrieve her warm winter cloak. Sliding her hands into her warm fur muff, she came to a decision. She would keep the secrets of her heart to herself and wait and see where the chase led. They were not married yet and if she should chose to go home to Virginia then she would find a way, whether her father or Benedict liked it or not. The reins of her heart would remain her own, for now at any rate.

  The scratching of sharp little claws sounded at her door, as Pippin gave his sharp bark and demanded entry. Someone must have let him into Merriton from outside. Rose crossed to the door and the little white terror ran in wagging his tail and jumping about. His snout was stained brown from snorting in holes and his little doggy feet were once again covered in mud.

  "Oh, Pippin, my little chickadee, whatever am I to do with you?" Rose squatted down and he happily licked her hand. "You have had the freedom of all the grounds at Merriton and now you have to be trapped in a coach for most of the day. When we arrive home in Londo
n, I shall take you out, I promise." Pippin gave a happy bark as Rose made her way down the steps of the house to join Henry and Eloise who were already seated within the carriage waiting to leave, their luggage already secured atop.

  Beatrice, Imogene and Benedict all came to see them off and Benedict even managed to give Rose a quick fierce kiss upon her lips, hidden from view, behind the coach. He then helped her to climb inside and closed the door. They were off! The ride into London was beautiful with late autumnal colour over the countryside which gave a golden vista from inside the coach. At lunchtime, the Merriton coachman, Williams, stopped their journey at a good looking village hostelry where they partook of a light luncheon and gave Pippin a brisk stroll and water. It saddened Rose when the open fields gave way to streets and they reached the hustle and bustle of London once again, as dusk was falling.

  The next days passed uneventfully for Rose especially since Benedict did not come to call and, at this, Rose was relieved for it gave her time to think. The weather had turned noticeably colder as winter approached already spreading its frosty cloak. Pippin had grown used to stretching his legs in the grounds of Merriton Hall but cooped up in the city, he was truly a terror. He got underfoot and went about the house whining for his playmate Holly. More than once her father threatened to banish the little dog forever. Hoping to ease Pippin's distress, Rose determined to take him for a nice long, and hopefully tiring, walk.

  "Eloise…" Rose called, "would you accompany me to Hyde Park please. If I don't walk this little mischief maker, I declare he is going to drive even me mad. He's already dug up the shrubbery at the front."

  Eloise appeared at the door. "Of course, Miss, just let me know when you wish to leave."

  "After lunch I think."

  "After lunch it is."