A Rose for Major Flint (Brides of Waterloo)

by Louise Allen

  ‘It is irresistible. I only have to think of macarons and I start to giggle.’ Her stays joined the pile of clothes leaving her in her shift. ‘Does no one ever tease you?’

  Adam stopped in the act of hauling his shirt over his head and just looked at her.

  ‘No, I suppose not.’ She sat with her chin in her hands, admiring him as he stripped. ‘The wound in your side is better.’

  ‘I heal fast.’

  Not used to being teased, will not admit to being hurt or tired… Co-existing with this man as a husband was going to be a challenge. And he was tired now.

  ‘May we nap?’ Rose asked, stretching out on the bed. Tactics, my girl.

  ‘I am perfectly—’

  ‘Only, tomorrow my courses will begin and that makes me tired and my back aches rather.’

  ‘Ah.’ He lay down on the bed next to her, over six feet of naked, muscled masculinity.

  Rose took a firm grip on her desires and snuggled against his side, her head on his chest. ‘Just half an hour.’ She curled her arm round until she could stroke the angle of his shoulder and neck and he put a big, warm palm against the small of her back and rubbed gently.

  The tension went out of him so suddenly that for a moment she was frightened. Then she realised he was still breathing, long, slow deep breaths. His body was limp, more relaxed than she could recall it had ever been during the night she had slept in his arms. He was asleep, thank goodness. Rose smiled and let herself slip into a light doze.

  *

  Adam woke swiftly. One moment he was relaxed beside her, his breathing deep and rhythmic under her ear, soft snores stirring her hair. The next his body had come alive, small muscles flexed, his breathing was lighter, the fingers of the lax hand lying on her hip curved into a caress.

  Rose pressed her lips to his chest and kissed the smooth skin under the ruffle of hair.

  ‘How long have I been asleep?’ He wrapped his arms around her and shifted so they were nose to nose. His whole body was awake now, she realised, conscious of his erection against her stomach.

  ‘An hour, I think, not much more.’ She let her hand stray downwards and smiled at his hiss when her fingers closed on the length of him. ‘You are very awake now.’

  ‘Stop it.’ He made no move to still her hand.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because you will be sensitive at this time of month and you are making it very difficult for me to resist you.’

  ‘How do you know these things?’ Rose demanded, planting both hands on his chest to push up and look into his face.

  ‘I’ve lived with the kind of women who make their feelings about ill-timed male attentions very clear. And I don’t want to hurt you.’

  ‘Perhaps if I was in control,’ Rose mused as she came up on her knees and then straddled him, her thighs closing on the narrow hips. ‘Last night was…illuminating.’

  Flint growled and reached up to cup her breasts.

  ‘Oh, those are tender!’ She caught his wrists, one in each hand, and pushed them back above his head. ‘Keep your arms there.’

  His eyes narrowed, but he clasped his hands together and lay with his arms stretched above his head. Rose wriggled, provoking another growl, then found the right angle and let him slide inside an inch. ‘Keep quite still,’ she ordered, seized by a heady feeling of power. Between her thighs she felt his hips flex, as though she was riding a horse bareback, but he did not thrust.

  Cautiously Rose began to rise and fall. She was exquisitely sensitive and knew Adam was right to be wary of hurting her. But like this the sensation was bliss and to watch the effect it was having on Adam was almost as arousing as the feeling of him within her, the leashed power at her command.

  His eyes were closed now, his hands gripped the bedhead rails as though to stop himself falling, he was shaking with the effort not to surge into her. She bent down, her nipples grazing the coarse hair on his chest, and kissed the hard line of his mouth.

  Adam gasped, opened to her, his tongue thrusting into hers with a desperation she had never experienced before. He broke the kiss, his head turning on the pillow in a kind of desperation. ‘Rose, for pity’s sake.’ His hair was dark with sweat, the muscles in his arms corded with effort. Inside her she could feel him becoming larger as the muscles gripping him began to tighten and she felt sensation build, focus.

  She closed hard with her thighs and began to move fast, shallowly, finding the exact angle that tightened the notch of her pleasure higher and higher. Then it broke, she shuddered, clung to him. ‘Adam, yes, now.’

  His hands came down, gripped her hips, lifted her so his desperate thrusts were shallow. One, two, three and he shouted, arched his back and came apart beneath her.

  *

  Flint swam up from fathoms down to find Rose curled up beside him, her cheek on his chest, her arms lashed around his waist. When he moved she gave a little hum of satisfaction.

  ‘Are you all right?’ There was a thread of uncertainty in her voice that cut through the haze of utter satisfaction. He had never been with a woman who asked him that, sounded so much as though she cared for his feelings. For a moment his focus blurred, almost as if his eyes had filled with tears.

  ‘All right? No. I’m a wreck.’ Flint gave his voice a sardonic edge, armouring himself against the disgrace of letting that moisture flow. ‘I’ve gone into hundreds of fights expecting to get killed, but I never expected to be tortured to death by pleasure.’

  She chuckled, and sat up, curled round so she could look at him. ‘You have the most incredible self-control.’

  ‘You are mine,’ he said gruffly and swung his legs over the side of the bed so his back was towards her and he did not have to meet those candid hazel eyes, so full of trust. If she told him again that she loved him, what could he say? ‘I do not hurt what is mine.’

  Something hot and wet swiped at his foot. ‘The devil!’ Dog wriggled out from under the bed and sat, tail thumping, with what Flint could have sworn was a grin of fellow feeling on his whiskery face.

  It broke the mood. Rose laughed and scrambled out of bed to scratch Dog’s ears as she passed on her way to the washbasin. ‘Getting under the bed was very tactful, Dog.’

  Flint dropped his gaze from Rose’s body as she soaped the sponge and began to wash, relaxed and unselfconscious in his presence. What was he promising her? He would give his life not to hurt her physically, but mentally? What did he know about keeping a woman happy for months? Years. A lifetime. When a lover had become too close before he had always ended the affair. Now this was marriage he was facing.

  He was going to fail her. He was a highly trained killer, an expert with explosives and in commanding dangerous scum. He was so damned insensitive that he’d tipped his half-brother into a critical condition, so tactless that he couldn’t extract his half-sister from the bedside of a semi-conscious gazetted rake and so unimaginative that he still had no plan for their future together. Was it really the honourable thing to do to tie this woman to a man like him?

  Chapter Nineteen

  ‘Adam! Your hands.’ Rose had come back as he sat there, his hands loose and open on his knees. Now he looked down at the red-and-white grooves and ridges that had been pressed into the flesh as he clung so desperately to the bedhead. ‘Does it hurt?’ she demanded, lifting them in hers.

  ‘No worse than gripping a sword hilt for hours in battle.’ He rubbed them together. ‘You’ll have to tie me up next time.’

  He had been joking to wipe the worry from her face, but Rose looked at him, head cocked to one side and unmistakable erotic speculation in her eyes. ‘Would you like that?’ Before he could answer, she murmured, ‘I might quite like it if you tied me up sometimes, too.’

  She began to dress, apparently unaware that she had rendered him incapable of rational thought. When she shook out her skirts and slipped her feet into her shoes she looked across at him, still sitting naked on the bed. Naked and now achingly erect again. ‘Adam? Was that a dreadful
thing to suggest?’

  ‘It is probably the most arousing thing anyone has ever said to me,’ he admitted as he grappled for some self-control.

  ‘Oh, good.’ She began to fiddle with her hair, suddenly blushing as she twisted loose locks and stuck in pins. ‘Only…I know you are used to women with a lot of experience and it must be rather boring for you that I am so ignorant.’

  ‘No.’ Flint strode over to the washbasin and poured cold water, wishing he could go and stick his head under the pump. ‘No, I am not bored.’

  Was this love, this chaotic, unsettling feeling that was stopping him sleeping, ruining his concentration, replacing all his old certainties with doubts? It didn’t seem to get any better when he was with her, it simply intensified into the need to hold her, be inside her, make her laugh, protect her. Could he say it? I love you, Rose. But he would only hurt her, do the wrong thing, say the wrong thing. All that he could promise her was that he would die before he let harm come to her and he suspected that she wanted rather more from a husband than that.

  ‘Good,’ she said from the doorway. ‘I will go and see what there is for luncheon. Come on, Dog.’

  *

  Adam was almost silent all through the meal. Rose told herself it was not anything to do with her. He was quite patently not given to inconsequential chatter so if she spent their marriage cast into apprehension every time he fell silent then she would be in despair most of the time. And heaven forbid that she should expect an exchange about topics as unmanly as feelings and emotions, she thought with a wry smile as she washed dishes and tidied the kitchen.

  ‘What is amusing you?’ Adam might be taciturn, but he was also observant.

  ‘Nothing is amusing me.’ She shook out the dishcloth and untied Maggie’s apron. ‘But I am happy.’

  His lids were hooded over his eyes, the only feature she ever felt betrayed his emotions, which meant he was hiding something. Most men would counter her words with a declaration that they, too, were happy. But not, it seemed, Adam, who was not going to lie to her even to spare her feelings. The warm feeling inside vanished as she felt her smile falter.

  ‘I’ll find a hackney.’ He stood up and reached for his shako.

  ‘No, let’s walk. It is a lovely day. Adam, don’t frown at me. I might have been a helpless waif when you plucked me from the battlefield, but I am not usually such a poor creature. Some exercise would be very welcome.’

  ‘A poor creature was not how I thought of you.’ He clicked his fingers at Dog. ‘Come on, you need the exercise, too. Just remember you are escorting a lady and leave the cats alone.’

  Rose stood by the front door as he locked it, juggling key, Dog’s leash and his portfolio of papers. Inevitably they became entangled and by the time Rose had ducked under Adam’s arm and freed the leash from his sword hanger they were both laughing. She reached up and straightened his neckcloth with a final proprietorial pat on the chest. ‘You look very handsome, Major Flint.’

  ‘Thank you, Miss Tatton.’

  A carriage rolled slowly past, setting Dog to barking. ‘That is smart for this street,’ Rose observed. ‘I wonder where they are going.’

  ‘Shortcut to the Botanical Gardens, perhaps. Although considering that was a wagon park while we were mustering, it is probably still more of a ploughed field than a garden.’ Adam got Dog to heel and offered Rose his arm. ‘Tell me who I am likely to meet this evening.’

  *

  ‘I warned Adam that Mrs Grace numbers the worst gossips in Brussels amongst her friends,’ Rose remarked as she sat on the chaise in her mother’s bedroom and watched her maid fasten a dashing little spray of plumes in her hair. ‘I told him he must flirt and charm them all, even the worst dragon, and he gave me that look that Papa gives you when he doesn’t want to make afternoon calls.’

  ‘A trifle to the left, Annette. Yes, it cannot be anything but an ordeal for a man under the eye of that collection of harpies, I am certain. But the two of you have behaved perfectly at church and at last night’s soirée and I have been dropping hints about how charmed I am by the major. He only has to hold his nerve and he’ll brush through in style.’

  ‘I expect he would prefer to be facing a French cavalry charge, Mama. There’s the knocker. I’ll go down and see if I can soothe both our menfolk.’

  Adam had the look of a wolf that had been forced to wear a jewelled collar and pretend to be a lapdog. The French cavalry would be shaking in their boots if he looked at them like that, Rose thought as she joined the men in the drawing room.

  ‘You both look very handsome,’ she said as Adam snapped to attention and bowed. ‘Don’t worry, it will all be over by midnight.’

  ‘They said that about Quatre Bras,’ he rejoined gloomily.

  ‘Have a brandy, Flint.’ The earl produced the decanter. ‘You’ll need it.’

  *

  It was every bit as bad as Rose expected. Since the soirée the gossip mills had been turning, grinding out their speculation and half-truths. Their hostess inspected Adam with blatant curiosity. ‘You’re related to Colonel Lord Randall?’

  ‘My half-brother, ma’am.’

  ‘He recognises you, does he?’

  ‘We recognise each other, ma’am. Fortunately we resemble each other closely, so we rarely get confused and recognise someone else by mistake.’ Adam said it so earnestly that for a moment Rose was persuaded he really had misunderstood Mrs Grace’s question.

  ‘They are a devoted family,’ she interjected, administering a sharp kick to his ankle. ‘And there is Lady Sarah Latymor as well. Major Flint is so very fond of his sister. We were all together in church on Sunday.’

  ‘That flighty little miss,’ Mrs Grace began.

  ‘Ma’am?’ Adam, without moving a muscle, had that wolf look on his face again.

  Mrs Grace took a step back. ‘Mr Grace, won’t you take our guests through to the drawing room?’

  Her husband, an anxious host at the best of times, ushered them through while making disjointed small talk. ‘Such lovely weather… Our gallant troops… News from the Duke at Peronne… My wife is most put out at not being able to procure a good turtle for soup, but of course, with the late trouble…’

  There were already about half of the party of twenty assembled. Rose was conscious of sharp, assessing looks behind the smiles of welcome. One palely elegant lady, a few years Rose’s senior, drifted across. ‘My dear Miss Tatton, such a surprise to see you!’

  ‘Indeed, Lady Fitzhugh? Why is that?’

  ‘After you vanished at the Duchess’s ball, one did wonder…’ Her voice trailed off suggestively.

  ‘If I was indisposed?’ Rose smiled back with great warmth. ‘Yes, a touch of the influenza. How kind of you to be concerned.’ Out of the corner of her eyes she could see Adam looking vaguely bored.

  ‘Oh, was that all it was? I thought you must have run off with a gallant solider,’ Lady Fitzhugh rejoined with a trill of laughter. ‘You were so close to the unfortunate Lieutenant Haslam, were you not?’

  ‘Would have been very bad tactics on his part,’ Adam remarked so unexpectedly that both women started. ‘Eloping into a battle, that is. No soldier is going to do that. You need a clear field before taking off, no pursuing fathers and certainly no charging cavalry. Ladies expect a certain romance about the thing, wouldn’t you say?’ He raised an eyebrow at Lady Fitzhugh, smiled his wicked, slow smile. ‘A certain…finesse.’ The drawl and the innuendo brought the hairs up on the back of Rose’s neck and, from the other woman’s widened eyes and fluttering fan, they had their effect on her also.

  ‘My goodness, Major. Do you have much experience…of that sort of thing?’

  ‘Elopements? None at all, ma’am. But my strategy is excellent.’

  ‘I should have introduced you at once, do forgive me,’ Rose said in haste before Lady Fitzhugh’s smouldering gaze ignited Adam’s hair. ‘Lady Fitzhugh, may I present Major Flint of the artillery?’

  ‘Major.’ It was a p
urr. ‘Are you in charge of a very big, very long, gun?’

  ‘I am, my lady.’

  Rose trod firmly on Adam’s toe. ‘We mustn’t monopolise Lady Fitzhugh, Major.’ He bowed and they moved off. ‘For goodness’ sake! She was going to start quizzing you about the size of your shot next, the hussy—and you were encouraging her.’

  ‘Stopped her poking at you though, didn’t it? Who is this glaring at me?’

  ‘General Anstruthers. He’s about ninety-nine and thinks Wellington is a young upstart. Good evening, General. May I introduce Major Flint?’

  ‘Hah! Artillery, eh? What do you think of the direction of the battle? Eh? Not how I’d have done it.’

  ‘I was rather in the thick of it, General. Difficult to assess the overall strategy as yet. What is your view, sir?’

  That was tactful, Rose thought, and tried to feign interest as the General launched into a critique of the deployment of troops at Quatre Bras. The problem was, they were probably trapped until dinner was served.

  Across the room she could see Mrs Grace talking to Lady Fitzhugh and the last arrival, Lady Glenwilling. From the direction of their gaze it was obvious that she and Adam were the subject of their conversation.

  ‘Lady Fitzhugh is taking an interest in your magnificent major,’ murmured a soft voice behind Rose.

  ‘Lady Grantly, good evening. Hardly my major.’

  The other woman’s expression was far less friendly than it had been last night at the soirée. Rose suspected she had taken the trouble to find out who Adam was. ‘No? He came with you tonight, did he not? A risky acquaintance for a young lady.’

  ‘Why? Because his parents were not married?’ Rose murmured outrageously as she turned her back on the General and Adam.

  ‘Well, that of course. And his naughty reputation. I have heard that they called him the Grass Widow’s Comforter in the Peninsula.’

  I can well believe it. Rose kept her smile in place with an effort. ‘We are not in the Peninsula now, Lady Grantly. He is a friend and my parents approve him as an escort.’

  ‘I suppose young women who turn down a succession of eligible offers must take what they can before they are at their last prayers,’ Lady Grantly observed. Rose recalled, rather too late, that one of the offers she had turned down out of hand was from her ladyship’s nephew.