This was just a game to him, but she had to win this money!
Rose took a deep breath to calm herself, and looked over at Lord Kirtland once more. He was now smiling down at his cards. Well, she was glad he was pleased with his hand. She wished she was as pleased with her own.
When he looked up again, he caught her looking at him. Somehow, imperceptibly, his smile changed. His eyes narrowed a bit, a strange light coming into them, and one side of his mouth twitched higher than the other. Was it desire that she saw in his eyes? A tremor rushed through her body.
Rose quickly looked back at her cards. Randomly, she put down a card, and then immediately realized that she had made a stupid move. She had played her queen when the king hadn’t been played yet.
Was she falling in love with Lord Kirtland? He certainly made her feel... there wasn’t a word for it. Unsettled? No, not quite. Excited, perhaps—just a look from him could send chills up and down her spine. She had heard that people quite often feel unusual or off–balance when they fell in love. Perhaps that was what was happening to her.
Mr. Aiken played the king, winning the trick and the rubber. Oh, dear!
The cards were gathered, points tallied, and a new hand dealt.
Rose took a deep breath and forced herself to concentrate. She could not afford to make mistakes.
Chapter Eleven
WHEN your demeanor mimics the name of the game, perhaps it is time to take a break,” a gentleman said, as he approached her table.
Rose had just picked up her new hand and taken a first peek at the cards she had been dealt.
She turned toward the gentleman. “Fungy!” All of her muscles, which she hadn’t even realized were tense, relaxed.
He looked like a breath of fresh air, all in blue and frothy white. And just like that, her breathing eased. She couldn’t help but give him a broad smile. “If you mean to imply that I was looking wistfully at my cards, then, I am afraid, I must admit my guilt.”
“Then perhaps it would be best if you sat out this hand and took a stroll about with me?”
He held out his hand for her to take and she grasped onto it as if it were a lifeline. She wondered briefly if he was now saving her from drowning, just as he had saved Thalia a few days before.
“That sounds lovely. I am getting a bit of a headache. Some exercise would no doubt do me good.”
She turned back to the others at the table, “I do hope you will excuse me...”
“Egerton! Rolly Egerton, how are you? Haven’t seen you since...” a large, red–faced, jovial man interrupted Rose as he strode over to Lord Kirtland.
“Applethwaite!” Lord Kirtland exclaimed, standing up to shake his friend’s hand. “Good to see you. Er, it’s Kirtland, now. M’father died last year.”
“Eh? Oh, sorry about that. So now you’ve joined high society?”
As the two went into reminiscing, Rose gave a little shrug. “I suppose now is a good time for a break.” She placed her hand on Fungy’s arm and they walked slowly toward the terrace.
“I am sorry to have interrupted your game, Miss Grace,” Fungy said, as he led the way through the room.
“Oh, it is not a problem at all. As you said, I needed a break.”
He nodded. “Looked as if you were having a spot of trouble.”
She paused and smiled gratefully up at him. “Always there when I need you, Fungy?”
He turned his eyes on her. The look in them made her feel like someone had just enveloped her in a warm, soft blanket.
“At your service,” he said, his voice as soothing as his warm blue eyes.
Rose had trouble tearing her eyes away from his. She could happily drown in those eyes.
As they stepped out onto the terrace, she stopped and took a deep breath of the warm night air. It was filled with sweet scents from the garden, and was more refreshing than anything could have been just then.
With one swift movement, she pushed back her mask from her face and the hood from her head. It felt very good to be free of the physical restrictions.
Fungy was watching her with a little smile playing on his lips.
“How did you know it was me behind the mask?” she asked.
He touched the Macedonian bracelet on her arm. “This gave you away.”
“Oh, yes, you admired it at Lady Anson’s ball. I’d forgotten about that.”
His hand lingered on her arm for a moment, sending heat rushing from that point through her body.
She felt herself leaning into him, and took a small step away instead, turning toward the garden. “I must say, it has been quite wonderful being masked. I have been able to do things that a proper young lady would never do.”
“Oh? What have you been up to, Miss Grace? Not getting into any more trouble, I hope?” he asked, laughter in his voice.
Rose giggled. “Oh, no! And how could I, when no one knew it was me? No, but I walked here with only Lord Kirtland’s escort. And, I hope you will not think me fast, but I have been drinking brandy!”
Fungy raised his eyebrows. “It is uncommon for a young lady to have a taste for brandy.”
“I know. My father invited me to drink it with him one evening a few years ago when my mother would not—she thought it improper for a lady to do so. But he does not like to drink alone and there were no other English gentlemen with us on our last expedition, so I drank with him. Since then, when given the opportunity—which isn’t often, I assure you—I partake of a little.” Rose gave a little giggle.
As she had expected, Fungy was not horrified by this admission. Instead, he smiled. “I see. Must have been lonely when you were on an expedition with your father.”
“Oh, no. We always had each other, my sisters and my mother. There were, sometimes, other archaeologists as well. And we all worked quite hard—as hard as my father—cataloguing the things that he found.” Rose paused. “That reminds me. I never properly thanked you the other day for saving my sister, Thalia.”
Fungy brushed aside her words with a wave of his hand. “Think no more of it. Now tell me, what brings you here to this little gathering? Shouldn’t you be dancing at Lady Southwick’s ball instead?”
Rose gave him a guilty smile. “Perhaps I should. But when Lord Kirtland told me about this card party, I just had to come and see it for myself,” she said, repeating the lie she had practiced just in case anyone asked her this question. “I do so like new experiences—and to be honest, I do not care for large society parties.” Well, that, at least, was the truth, she thought to herself.
“Do not care for balls?” Fungy asked, clearly intrigued.
“I am not used to society. The few parties I’ve attended I have found to be deathly dull, I’m afraid.”
“Ah. But it is all in the attitude, Miss Grace. If you go expecting to be entertained, or enlightened, then yes, they are, as you say, deathly dull. However, if you go with an eye for the absurd you shall be highly amused, I guarantee it.”
She thought about this for a moment, and laughed. “Yes, I do believe that is a good way of thinking about it. I’m sure to enjoy myself if I look at things from that perspective. Thank you!”
“Seeing you happy and laughing is all the thanks that I need,” he said, half to himself. He then gave a rather embarrassed little laugh. “Perhaps I should return you to your card game.”
Reluctantly, she put her mask and hood back on. She loved the freedom that being masked afforded her, but she hated how uncomfortable and hot it was.
Fungy took her arm and began to lead her back inside. But just as they had stepped back into the drawing room, Lord Kirtland approached them.
“Ah, I was just coming to see where you were.”
“And I was just about to return her to you, my lord,” Fungy said.
Despite his words, he seemed reluctant to pass her hand over to Lord Kirtland, and held on to it for perhaps a moment too long.
Rose felt like she was being passed like a card from one player to the next, and
she was not entirely sure she liked it. However, Lord Kirtland was her escort for the evening, and he had been kind enough to bring her here at her insistence, so she supposed she didn’t have too much choice in the matter.
The fleeting expression of annoyance on Fungy’s face told her that he did not exactly like having to give her up either.
“Have you had enough fresh air, or may I entice you to take a walk with me through the garden? It is a beautiful evening,” Lord Kirtland said smoothly, his rich baritone gliding over her like a snake over a patch of sand.
It was a beautiful evening, and the twinkling lights in the garden had looked very enticing from the terrace, so she put aside her discomfort. Nodding her head in acquiescence, she turned and headed back outside with Lord Kirtland.
They strolled along in silence for a bit, Rose slowly feeling her muscles tense once again. What was it about Lord Kirtland that put her so much on edge?
He was very handsome, in a rough and rugged way. She supposed all those muscles would come in handy on an archaeological dig, if one wanted to do the actual digging oneself. And it was quite wonderful that Lord Kirtland was an archaeologist, at all.
These positive qualities certainly spoke volumes for the way she was feeling—for she was sure that these odd, new sensations were caused by attraction to Lord Kirtland. How could she not be when he fit so many of the criteria she was looking for in a husband?
Yes, perhaps that was it. She was just nervous because she knew that he was the perfect man for her.
She smiled up at him as they walked slowly, enjoying the star–strewn night and the garden. Rose willed herself to relax and enjoy the evening.
How wonderful this was, the perfect man for her taking her for a romantic walk through a moonlit garden. She chided herself for feeling anything but pure happiness in the moment. Just stop thinking, Rose, and enjoy the evening and the company.
She was doing exactly what she should be doing. She may not be winning at cards, but she was winning a husband. With that comforting thought, she allowed herself to enjoy the garden.
The wonderful smell Rose had noticed from the terrace came from the rose bushes lining the walkway. Now, out amongst them, the smell was even more wonderful and intense. The crunching of the gravel beneath their feet was the only sound around them, lending a peaceful, calming feeling to their surroundings.
“A more perfect evening, I could not imagine,” Rose said, gazing up at the sky.
“Indeed,” Lord Kirtland said, “I feel humbled to be among such beautiful things.” He wasn’t looking at the stars.
“I hope I did not ruin your game when I left the table,” Rose said, deliberately changing the subject.
“No, not at all. Quite all right. My friend, Mr. Applethwaite, took your place for some time.” He paused and then said, “I am sorry that I did not notice that you had become tired.”
“I think I was simply concentrating too hard on the cards. I suppose I’m not used to playing for such a long time.”
“No? Do you not play with your sisters?”
“Not whist. We would play casino sometimes, and other children’s games. But they are just silliness and fun.”
“Yes.”
Rose stopped speaking. She had been meaning to make a joke of playing such games, but Lord Kirtland did not seem to be the sort one joked with. He was not at all like Fungy, who was always making light of a situation or joking. Lord Kirtland seemed to be more of a serious type of person. Perhaps staidness came with a title and wealth.
She brushed it aside and focused on enjoying their walk.
As they neared the end of the walkway, Lord Kirtland took her hand from his arm and turned to face her. If he moved even a few inches closer their bodies would be touching, Rose thought with a slight tremor, but she stood her ground and resisted the urge to step away.
“I am so very glad you were able to come with me this evening,” he said quietly, putting his hands on her shoulders and pulling her even closer toward him.
Rose swallowed and wondered if he was going to kiss her. “It was very kind of you to bring me.”
He bent his head forward, his lips slowly coming closer to hers.
Yes, he was going to kiss her!
His hot breath smelled of the wine he had been drinking.
Rose fought the urge to recoil. She could do this. She was attracted to this man. She wanted to marry him.
At the last moment Rose turned her head so that he kissed her cheek.
What was wrong with her? She was about to receive her first kiss from a handsome man who would make the most perfect husband and solve all of her family’s problems. Why could she not kiss him?
He pulled back and chuckled. It was not a very happy sound, however.
“I am sorry, my lord, I, I think...”
“Maidenly modesty?” he said, interrupting her.
Rose exhaled with a sigh of relief and then gave a nervous little laugh. “Yes, I suppose that is it. Could— could we go back to the card game? I still owe Mr. Aiken two hundred pounds and I would like to win it back from him.”
Chapter Twelve
THE following morning, Rose was awoken by both of her sisters jumping onto her bed.
She moaned and turned over so that she was face down, and covered her head with her quilt.
“Come on, Rose, we have let you sleep long enough. Now you have to tell us how you did last night,” Thalia said, shaking her shoulder roughly.
“Yes, and who you met,” Laia urged.
“How much money did you win?”
“Did Lord Kirtland kiss you?”
“Go away!” Rose said from under her covers.
“No!” the two girls said in unison.
“Not until you tell us everything,” Laia said.
“I think we should go to the park today. You have been putting us off for long enough. Surely you have met enough gentlemen now so that we may go and choose among them,” Thalia said eagerly. “Come on, Rose. Do say that we might go today, please?”
“Oh yes, please Rose, we should definitely go to the park this afternoon,” Laia agreed enthusiastically. “Unless there is a gentleman who has invited you out for a drive?”
Rose felt like she was suffocating, so she lowered her covers and turned over. “No, I have not been invited out by anyone.” She sighed. “All right, we may go for a ride this afternoon.” She paused and then added, “But you both must promise to be on your best behavior, or else I shall never take you to the park during the promenade ever again!”
“Why Rose, whatever makes you think that we would not behave properly?” Thalia asked innocently.
Both Rose and Laia gave her such a look that very soon all three girls were giggling away.
“But you still haven’t told us about last night,” Laia complained.
“Yes. How much money did you win?” Thalia asked again.
Rose sat up, propping her pillows behind her. She then clasped her hands in her lap and stared down at them unable to look her sisters in the eye. “I didn’t win any. In fact, I lost all that I had and more, I’m afraid.”
“And more? How could you lose more than you had?” Laia gasped.
“Lord Kirtland had to pay my debt to his friend, Mr. Aiken, and accepted a vowel from me—a promissory note saying that I would pay him one hundred pounds.”
“One hundred—” Laia started to scream.
Rose immediately clasped her hand over her sister’s mouth. “Shhh! If Aunt Farmington or Papa were to hear you...”
“Oh, Rose! Where are you going to get so much money?” Thalia asked in a whisper.
“I don’t know. I suppose I’ll just have to win it back. I had lost two hundred to him, but then won back half of it.”
“Oh, well that is good, I suppose,” Laia said, a little uncertainly.
“Was Fungy there?” Thalia asked.
“Yes, he was. He took me out for a breath of air on the terrace,” Rose admitted.
Laia squeaked. “He did? How romantic!”
Rose thought about that for a moment and then said, “No, it really wasn’t very romantic. It was just very pleasant. He is a very kind man, and makes me laugh.”
“And makes you feel good? Does he give you tingles?” Laia asked.
“Laia! You should not know of such things!” Rose scolded her sister.
“Well, but does he?” she persisted.
Rose smiled. “He does make me feel good. But then Lord Kirtland took me for a walk through the garden and that was very romantic.”
“Did he kiss you?” Laia asked, scrunching up closer.
“No! He is a gentleman. He would not do that unless he had asked me to marry him first,” Rose lied. She was not about to admit to her sisters that she had backed out of her first kiss.
“Do you know what Lord Kirtland said when I was losing?” Rose asked her sisters, quickly trying to get away from the subject of kissing. “He laughed and said that it was just a game, as if there was no money involved.”
“My goodness, he must have a lot of money to think so little of it,” Thalia cooed.
“My thoughts exactly.”
“So you think he is the one you should marry, Rose?” Laia asked.
Rose nodded. “I am thinking very seriously of it. He is as close to my ideal husband as I’m going to find at such short notice.”
Her sisters sat back quietly thinking about this, as did Rose.
She was certain that this was the right answer, and if he didn’t make her feel as comfortable as Fungy did, well, perhaps she would be more at ease with him after they had known each other a little longer.
~~~~
The rhythmic thwacking sound of the punching bag lulled Fungy into a mindless haze. Once he had got into the rhythm, he no longer needed to think. The physical release of the constant punching was very relaxing.
Right. Left. Right. Left. Right, right. Left, left.
As his mind started to drift off among the quiet hubbub of Gentleman Jackson’s Boxing Salon, Fungy noticed that this was not as relaxing as it normally was.
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