When he had walked into his study and found the room covered in his papers, smeared liberally with ink, Henry had bellowed until the whole of the household had come running—all except that is, Nancy, who on hearing the commotion, had quickly hidden under her bed.
The child had been severely scolded by Eloise. Henry Randolph had decreed that Nancy be moved into the servant's quarters, in a room adjoining Eloise's. No amount of pouting or flouncing on Rose's part had made any difference to her father—he was, on this occasion, quite adamant.
Therefore, when the footman arrived with Benedict's note, Rose decided that she would go to the opera alone and without her father. She declined the invitation on his behalf without telling him anything about it.
When Benedict arrived on Saturday evening, he was surprised to find Rose waiting for him alone. "Where is your ladies maid, Rose?"
"She has the ague and cannot accompany me tonight but I felt certain that since we are an engaged couple, a visit to the opera together should be acceptable." Benedict frowned.
"Actually no, it is not acceptable, not at all. You cannot be alone in a carriage with me, Rose, 'tis not seemly!"
"Oh pooh, do not be so stuffy, Benedict; after all we went riding alone together."
"That was entirely different and you know it, young lady. We were at Merriton and on separate horses…" Benedict's voice trailed off as he remembered lifting Rose onto his horse and holding her in his arms. There was a crow of laughter and Benedict looked thunderously at his intended.
"You are remembering holding me on Devil are you not?" she asked him delightedly. Benedict glowered at her but nodded an affirmative.
"Very well, have it your way, Rose. It is your reputation that is at stake and I suppose that any tittle-tattle will die away once we are wedded. Come along now or we shall be late."
The Royal Haymarket theatre was packed but not because of the quality or critical acclaim of the opera being performed. The opera happened to be the place to be seen. Benedict took a footman inside the box with them to fetch and carry any drinks that they might require during the break. He produced a beautiful, pink silk covered box of sweetmeats for Rose, tied up with a pale blue ribbon. Rose opened them immediately and chose a confection of almonds.
She was brimming with excitement to be at the London opera and eagerly chatted to Benedict as she asked him questions about the orchestra and all the different instruments that were being tuned. The conductor arrived and bowed so low to his audience that his powdered wig nearly fell off. Rose giggled as a cloud of powder dust floated into the air. Benedict produced his mother of pearl opera glasses and handed them to Rose so that she would enjoy a better view of this evening's entertainment.
The singing was quite wonderful to listen to at first, but it was not one of the most captivating of operas. After an interminably boring hour of rather dull singing, Rose began to shift about in her seat. Benedict grimly watched her as she wriggled. She wasn't watching the opera at all now. She was using her opera glasses to study the other patrons seated in other boxes. The music soared and Benedict resisted the urge to cover his ears as the soprano on stage rose to a particularly high pitch. His attention was again drawn to Rose when he heard a sharp intake of breath. She jumped and nearly dropped the glasses she held to her eyes.
"Rose, are you indisposed?" Benedict asked in concern.
"Yes… um, no! I dropped the opera glasses, pray do not concern yourself. I shall sit further back in the box." Hunched over, she moved from the seat next to him and into the shadows of the box. She slunk to a seat in the back. Benedict turned suddenly and plucked the glasses from Rose's hand. He put them to his eyes and trained them in the direction that Rose had been looking.
Henry Randolph gazed back at him through his own opera glasses. That wasn't the worst of it; Mr. Randolph was sitting next to Lady Amelia and her daughter, Lady Margaret. Benedict swivelled about to look at Rose accusingly. He had known that something was up when he witnessed her strange behaviour. He handed the glasses back to Rose.
"With a sigh may cry 'poor T-om'"
"With a si-gh may cr-y 'po-or T-om'"
The final verse of the first half was sung and the crowd clapped as the curtain fell, indicating the interval. Benedict turned to the footman standing discretely at the back of the box. "Hopkins, fetch up the champagne for us now, if you please."
"My Lord," Hopkins bowed and left the box soundlessly. Benedict immediately swung around to face Rose; it wouldn't do for any of their conversation to leave this box.
"So your father was indisposed was he?" Benedict asked mildly as he picked at an invisible piece of lint on his crossed thigh.
"Um, er, we-ll he did seem out of sorts today, so y-es, I suppose one could actually say that he was indisposed."
"Really…"
"Yes."
"I see. Rose, you are aware that lying to me is one of the more punishable offences. I do so hate to be lied to."
"Oh, so do I, Benedict, so do I, such totally unacceptable behaviour, lying!"
"Rose..."
"Yes, Benedict?"
"You have until the count of five to avoid a trip over my knee."
"Ooo, but I really did believe that father was indisposed today. He was so very horrible to Nancy today and I thought he would be much too upset to attend the opera!"
Benedict sighed. "Oh, please, not Nancy again,"
"Whatever do you mean, not Nancy again?"
"Rose, this has to stop. Nancy was nothing but a guttersnipe before your rescue; she has now been raised up to an enormous social height, being placed in training with a senior servant such as a ladies maid no less. She is not your family and she will suffer greatly if you make her believe such a thing. Do you understand what I am trying to explain to you?"
Rose frowned. "Y-es, I hear you. In fact, Eloise explained much the same thing to me today. You need not concern yourself any further for Nancy is sleeping in the servant quarters from now on."
Benedict's eye brow shot up. "What? Pray tell where was she sleeping before this?"
Rose flushed pink. "Um, in a bedroom next to mine but she has been moved, it was only a temporary measure."
Benedict gave a patient sigh. Rose meantime, had picked up her opera glasses and had the lenses trained once again upon the box directly opposite theirs. "What is father doing here with those two witches?"
"That is quite enough spying for now Rose. You may ask your father later on why he was with the Beauchamp ladies tonight but my guess would be that the two witches cajoled your father into joining them simply to gain credence within society. Those two are most unpopular since I asked them to leave Merriton. Let us put this subject aside for now though, Rose. There is a small but serious matter that I need to discuss with you…"
"Ooo, they are all standing up and leaving the box!" Rose squinted and reached for the glasses again. Snatching them from Benedict's hand, she placed them to her eyes.
"Rose!"
"Where are they going? Oh, do you think they are coming over here! Oh no! Quickly let us leave immediately, Benedict. I am not enjoying this opera… so please can we just leave now?" Rose hopped to her feet in agitation.
Benedict stood to his feet to thwart her efforts to leave. "Sit down and behave at once! Look, your father is down below us, he appears to be greeting a man and his wife down in the stalls." Rose moved to stand beside Benedict and peeked over the rail.
"Why, it is Captain Littleton and that must be his wife, oh bodkins, she's so fat! Benedict, he was the Captain of our ship The Gwendolyn, the one that we travelled over to England on, you know."
Hopkins returned, carrying a silver tray on which were two champagne glasses, brimming with sparkling liquid. He bent at the waist, with one hand behind his back and bowed low, offering the tray to Rose, who reached out and took one of the crystal flutes. She took a quick sip before she swivelled back to peer over the edge of the balcony once more. Lady Margaret and Lady Amelia were now standing below wi
th her father and both looking most awkward to be seen down within the stalls with the hoi polloi. Margaret moved until she was directly below their box.
There was a high pitched shriek from the stalls below. Benedict stuck his head over the balustrade and peered beneath their balcony. Three furious faces glared upwards and met his gaze.
Henry Randolph, Lady Amelia Beauchamp and the most furious of them all, Lady Margaret, whose décolletage appeared to be soaking wet, met his eyes. Benedict drew back, casting an astonished look at Rose.
Rose's eyes rounded with feigned innocence. "Whoops, I spilled a drop or two, never mind, no harm done!"
Benedict stood up. "We are leaving now. Hopkins will follow with our belongings." He grasped Rose's upper arm none too gently. "Come along, my dear!"
He almost dragged her from the box and down the deserted corridor. They descended the sweeping stairs, went out through the foyer and arrived at the waiting coach. Williams, the coachman, was catching up on some sleep but was soon startled awake by his master's voice. He leapt down at once to open the door of the carriage and help Rose inside. She was quickly followed by Benedict.
Rose beamed nervously at the stony faced Lord Mortimer. "Well, at least we can talk privately now. What was it you were going to tell me, sir? Something important I think you said?"
Benedict swallowed, he was absolutely livid with Rose. There was no doubt at all in his mind that she had deliberately tipped her champagne right down the front of Lady Margaret's dress tonight.
Irritably, he banged on the roof of the coach with his cane. "Home please, Williams, but take a roundabout route."
All in all, it had been a most unsatisfactory evening. Nevertheless, Rose was his responsibility and she had behaved appallingly tonight.
"I wish to discuss your behaviour this evening, Rose. You have behaved like a rude little hellion tonight, and I cannot in all conscience, let such behaviour pass by without correcting you." Benedict patted his lap meaningfully.
Rose gaped at him. "Now, Benedict dear, do not be hasty over my little bit of funning!"
"Fun! Rose, everyone was watching you tonight and assessing your potential as my Countess. However low Lady Amelia and Margaret stoop, it behoves you, as my affianced, to rise above such petty behaviour. You have earned correction and you are going across my knee right now, so come here."
Rose shuffled along the seat squeezing herself as far into the corner as she could but Benedict's long arm snaked out and he snagged her wrist with ease. Rose gave a squeak as she slid all too easily along the leather seat. She found herself dumped across her intended's hard and unforgiving lap.
Sweeping up her cloak and garments, Benedict gulped when he realised that he had bared Rose completely. Her bottom and legs laid bare, glowing creamily in the dimness of the candle light from the carriage lantern. Without thought, his hand cupped an orb of her nether cheeks caressing the silken skin. His pego reacted like a rapier, upright, swift and true, causing a discomforting tightening of his breeches.
Benedict groaned, her womanly cleft beckoned him and he found his fingers sliding gently downward, unable to resist that tempting, shadowed divide. A mewl from beneath the pile of petticoats and clothing, bought him to his senses and angry with himself for losing sight, even for a moment, of the fact that he was a gentleman and no cad, Benedict bought his hand down on Rose's soft behind harder than perhaps he first intended.
She shrieked and bucked. "I am bare, Benedict, I am bare. Cover me, cover me up!"
Benedict chose to ignore Rose's outburst. She deserved this lesson and he determined that she should feel it to its fullest advantage. His hand continued to rise and fall with precision and accuracy. He could see quite clearly in the flickering gleam that his individual hand prints were joining up with one another, turning Rose's rear crimson, in fact, her bottom positively glowed. She cried and squirmed most delightfully against his swollen rod. He continued to spank her until they turned into Wilton Crescent, whereupon he allowed her upright.
Rose gazed tearfully at Benedict as he righted her hair and wiped her wet face with his silk kerchief.
"Why did you not let me cover myself? That was indecent and so humiliating for me!"
Benedict grinned, infuriating her further. "I thought you deserved to be spanked on the bare, a little humility seemed in order after your attitude and conduct tonight. Perhaps you will begin to realise that your actions have consequences and think before you behave like a common hoyden in future. Now dry your tears, Rose, and I will see you on the morrow, when I do hope your demeanour will have improved."
Before she knew what he was about Benedict swept her into his arms, clasped her to him and kissed her soundly. Rose could not understand her physical reaction to this, her body craved more from him and she melded into his embrace. Somehow her sore bottom only added spice to the encounter, which only served to confuse her further.
Chapter Fourteen
"….but why, I don't understand this at all! Merriton is simply enormous; surely there is plenty of room for everyone!"
They were sitting together in the morning parlour of Benedict's London house.
"Rose, I have explained this to you over and over again, so I will do so once more and then this conversation is finished, is that understood?" Benedict took a deep controlling breath; it would do no good for him to lose his temper with Rose about this. After all, he must remain patient and understanding of his Rose. However, right at this moment, he would dearly love to turn his Rose over his knee and smack her saucy arse!
Rose harrumphed crossly. She appeared completely unaware just how close she was to getting her bottom warmed, especially after her mischief at the opera the previous evening.
"Due to the political nature of our wedding, I have no other recourse left to me as a peer of the realm. If the King himself insists that we are married, as is usual for an Earl and a cousin of the King, than it must be within Westminster Abbey and I must comply. I know this is not what you wanted, but that is how it has to be. Ours is a political union, Rose, and must, therefore, be seen as such by society. It will not be onerous for you in any way.
"Your father will guide you down the aisle to where I will await you. We shall then be married by the Archbishop of Canterbury after which we shall leave together and travel by carriage to the Queen's House, Buckingham House, which is almost visible from here in Wilton Crescent."
"Ooo, I have a brilliant idea, Benedict! Why don't we just elope and…"
"The deuce we will! Be quiet, Rose, and do not presume to interrupt me again! Now where was I? Ah, yes… there will then be a champagne reception given by the King and Queen at the Queen's own house, Buckingham House, which will last possibly about two hours. During that time, we will be greeted by well-wishers. Footman with champagne and silver platters full of assorted dainties and sweetmeats will serve our guests.
"You shall change into a leaving outfit and we will depart the throng, leaving them to dine with the King and Queen. We shall return to our own apartment in our London house, Brunswick Gardens. There will be an intimate supper laid out ready for us and only a skeleton staff for at least a week, so that we shall have time to enjoy our newly wedded state. My mother and Imogene will be staying with my mother's cousin, Elizabeth."
"Please, please, Benedict, let us elope, it would be so romantic!"
"Rose, I cannot, we cannot. It would not be romantic at all and most likely we would be cut from society for the rest of our lives!"
"Well, good! Who cares! We can live happily at Merriton, just the two of us!"
"What then of Imogene? How will she find a husband and what of our own children, condemned by society? How will they meet appropriate suitors if they are 'beyond the pale' of society?"
Rose blanched; she hadn't thought of the consequences of her own selfishness. Surely she could manage to walk down the aisle with her father? Albeit an extremely long aisle, one inside the fabulous, but oh, so daunting Westminster Abbey. After that poin
t, Benedict would be with her, supporting and guiding her. Yes, maybe she could manage this state wedding after all.
"I had not thought of any of that, Benedict. I think that I understand now. If you promise me that you will stay by my side and guide me, then I think I might manage."
Benedict was glad he had taken the time to persuade Rose properly, she was simply scared by the enormity and pomp of this marriage. Oh, how his loins tightened at her sweet words of submission. She had no idea of the effect she had on his libido when she spoke of his 'staying by her side and guiding her'. He would guide her all right. Benedict had so much to teach Rose, so much to show her. How he wanted this wedding behind him, so that he could make her his own, slaking his lust on her curvaceous body, finally teaching his Rose the delights to be found within the marriage bed together.
His pego was iron hard now and pressing uncomfortably against his fall. To cover that fact, he pulled Rose down onto his lap and squeezed her waist, kissing her lovely neck. She giggled and squirmed delightfully and Benedict knew his wedding night could not come soon enough as far as he was concerned.
"Thank you, my sweet Rose, I knew that once you understood the whole of it, you would agree!"
Benedict saw Rose home, and on his return, he immediately sought out his mother. "You may stop worrying, mother dearest. Rose has agreed to a London wedding!"
"Oh, Benedict, this is wondrous news, my dear. I was so concerned about how to manage arrangements at Merriton. It makes so much more sense, but however did you manage to persuade Rose? She seemed so adamant a few days ago… Oh, you didn't…"
Benedict chuckled. "Have no fear, mother dear! I simply explained that due to the nature of our marriage being a political arrangement between the King and the Colonies, we have no choice in the matter. It is imperative that we do as the King commands. Rose is a bright young woman and she saw the political necessity of obeying the King's edict."
His Colonial Rose Page 11