Romancing His English Rose (Entangled Scandalous)

by Hemmerling, Catherine

  So, she would try not to love him and he would be good to her. She could live with that…right?

  Right.

  Having put her feelings back in order, Rose tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and walked determinedly back into the parlor where she found Simon examining a small hand-crafted ceramic figurine rather intently.

  “I’m back,” Rose announced.

  “Oh good,” Simon replied, turning to face her. “I have a question for you.”

  “Yes?” Rose said, looking at him uncertainly.

  “What kind of animal is this?” Simon held up the figurine he had been examining with a confused look on his face.

  Rose moved closer so that she could get a better look at it, although she was quite sure she already knew what he was holding. “I believe it is a cat.”

  “A…cat?”

  “Yes, a cat. Surely you have seen a feline before?” Rose said with some irritation, not liking where this conversation was surely headed.

  “Yes, Rose, I have seen a cat before,” Simon responded drily, “however, this particular feline has no tail.” He turned the figure around in illustration.

  Of course, Rose did not need to be told about the missing tail, for she, herself, had sculpted the small object when she was a young girl.

  “Neither did the cat from which I drew inspiration,” she replied.

  “You had a cat with no tail?” Simon said in disbelief.

  “There are, in fact, entire species of cats that are born without tails,” Rose informed him haughtily.

  “And was your cat one of these species?”

  “Ahhhh, no, not really,” Rose confessed, deflating somewhat. “That particular cat lost its tail in a rather tragic, er, furniture accident.”

  “Furniture accident? Oh, this I have got to hear,” Simon replied, crossing his arms.

  Rose rolled her eyes. “It’s not that interesting, really.”

  “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

  “Fine.” Rose sighed. “When I was about eight or so my room was, like the rest of the house, packed with an excess of mismatched furniture, decorative items, and various types of knickknacks…and frankly I was having repeated nightmares of being buried under a pile of shelves, dressers, art, and any other number of things.”

  “So?” Simon prompted, with a roll of his hand.

  “So I decided that I needed to redecorate the room…myself.”

  “Where does the cat fit into all this?”

  “Not very well, clearly,” Rose said with a sly smile. “Mr. Chauncy—”

  “You named the cat after your butler?”

  “Yes. Mr. Chauncy was proper, elegant, and completely condescending—”

  “—just like any good butler,” Simon finished with a smile.

  “Exactly!” Rose grinned. “Anyway, Mr. Chauncy was apparently sleeping in one of the cabinets I was moving and, when he realized it was being moved, he sprang out of the thing and scared the wits out of me. Which, of course, caused me to drop the heavy piece…”

  “And you dropped it on his tail?” Simon asked incredulously.

  “Not exactly,” Rose hedged. “I dropped it on the floor and it tipped over onto a pile of the other furniture I was removing. The pile fell over and one of the pieces—I was never quite sure which—landed on his tail, injuring it to the point that it had to be removed.”

  Simon stared at Rose in astonishment for a moment, before breaking into riotous laughter.

  Rose planted her hands on her hips and said, “It is not funny! I don’t think Mr. Chauncy ever fully forgave me; certainly he never slept in my room again.”

  That just seemed to make Simon laugh even harder.

  Rose glared at him, but she realized he was unable to notice her look, doubled up as he was, so she turned on her heel and stomped over to the settee where she plopped down and waited for him to come to his senses.

  It took rather longer than she supposed was necessary.

  …

  Finally, after what seemed like several minutes, Simon was able to stand up straight and he wiped the tears from his eyes as he made his way over to sit down next to her.

  “Are you quite finished?” Rose asked.

  “I think so, yes. That was a wonderful story…priceless.”

  “I’m so glad I could amuse you.”

  It appeared to Simon that Rose was a little put out by his reaction to her tale. Or tail in this case, he thought merrily, snickering a bit at his witticism.

  “What is so funny now?” Rose ground out.

  “Ah, nothing,” Simon replied, attempting to sober up in the interest of self-preservation. Perhaps a change of subject was in order. “Er, would you like to see the floor plan William and I created?”

  Rose gave Simon a long look before rolling her eyes and nodding.

  Simon smiled excitedly, feeling much like a child at Christmas, and pulled the paper from his inner coat pocket with a flourish. Pushing the small buttons and beads, tiny frames, ribbon work, and basketry cluttering the coffee table to one side, he laid the drawing out and smoothed away the wrinkles with his hands. When he was finished, he sat back to allow Rose to look at it.

  Leaning in close, Rose examined the work that Simon and William had done. The plan was very detailed and complete, if Simon did say so himself. There were even bits of furniture included to help identify the room’s use.

  “Wow,” Rose breathed. “This is very good, Simon. Very good, indeed.”

  Smiling, Simon exhaled a long relieved breath. He thought it had turned out quite well too, but it felt good to hear Rose also thought so.

  “Did you have any trouble getting the measurements of the outside of the house?”

  “Well, I had a little run-in with Caleb, actually.”

  “What? Where did he find you? What did you say? What did he say?”

  “Ah…Caleb caught me just as I was about to leave, but I managed to convinced him that I was there to check on the soil in his garden.”

  “And he believed you?” Rose asked in surprise.

  “Not at first, but after I elaborated a bit about the process and then told him that I had been working on it with Frederick, he seemed to accept the excuse.” Simon shrugged.

  Rose was flabbergasted. “What do you know about gardening and soil?”

  Simon raised one brow archly. “As it happens I am very knowledgeable in the science of horticulture. In fact, I had been working with Frederick on enriching the soil and crop production of many of his estate gardens. He was hoping to be able to provide more fresh produce to his tenants and the surrounding townships.”

  “Horticulture?” Rose said, mostly to herself. She had read about the science, of course. There were many books on the subject in her library. But never in her wildest dreams did she expect Simon to be interested in any type of science. She felt her stomach flip over with excitement. She was going to marry a scientist…oh, happy day! It took everything in her power not to do a little dance of joy right there in the parlor.

  “Oh, Simon,” she said in a hushed awe-filled voice, “I would love to talk to you about your ideas! I know we don’t have a large garden like some of the Shrewsbury estates, but perhaps we can implement some of your experiments at Warren House…together.”

  “I would very much enjoy working with you on the garden,” Simon replied thickly, before turning away.

  Rose wondered if anyone had ever properly shown interest in Simon or his desires before. She was glad that at least Frederick had been supportive, but that made his death even more heartbreaking; first, that Simon had lost more than just his cousin, but also a true friend and; second, that the world in general had lost such a wonderful example of humanity.

  She reached up and squeezed his arm affectionately. “Once we have completed this investigation, you and I will turn the garden into the pride of London, I can promise you that. And while I am not usually a proponent of lying, in this case I congratulate you on your
quick thinking.”

  Simon grinned. “I appreciate your concern for my soul, sweetling, I do, but now I think we should get to work on our drawings before you have to get ready for the ball tonight.”

  “Oh dear, the Somerset ball! I forgot all about that,” Rose exclaimed.

  “Really?” Simon drawled. “So the memory of Rose Warren is not quite so infallible after all.”

  Rose narrowed her eyes at Simon menacingly, but he just smiled at her.

  “Now, now, Rose,” Simon began, holding up his hand in mock surrender. “I was just teasing you a little bit.”

  “Hmph,” Rose grunted, crossing her arms.

  “Oh, dear, I have upset you,” Simon rightly acknowledged. “Perhaps I can make it up to you if I…”

  Chapter Eleven

  A kiss is designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.

  —The Duke of Lancaster

  Simon leaned over to wrap Rose warmly in his arms before softly kissing her neck on the sensitive spot just below her ear. Rose squirmed in an attempt to pull away, but Simon just drew her even closer. Slowly he made his way up her neck, across her jaw, and finally to her delectable lips.

  By the time Simon found her mouth with his, Rose was no longer trying to get away. She had instead wrapped her arms around his neck and was delving her fingers into his soft curly hair. She moaned when Simon urged her lips apart and his tongue swept in to sensually explore her sweet mouth.

  Whatever control he thought he had when he began this seduction was quickly slipping. He groaned deeply when Rose’s movements became more insistent and he felt emboldened enough by her reaction to return her shy caresses with some more experienced moves of his own.

  “Simon!” Rose cried out, arching. He responded to her passionate cry with a litany of unintelligible sweet nothings whispered against her lips and across her cheek, until he ended up breathing her name over and over in her ear with hot gasping breaths.

  Then very gently, Simon eased Rose back against the cushions of the settee, and his exploration of her breasts became more brazen. He ran his fingers lightly over the thin material covering her nipple and exalted in the way he could feel it tighten and bead up for him. Unable to take it any longer, he slipped his fingers beneath the neckline of her gown in an attempt to touch the hardened nub with his bare hands.

  It was then that he heard someone knocking at the front door. The sound immediately brought him back to the precariousness of their situation. They were lying very openly on the sofa in the Warrens’ front parlor.

  Damn it! What was he thinking? It was supposed to have been just a sweet little kiss—meant to jolt Rose out of her cross mood. He had not meant to seduce her right there on her mother’s settee.

  Groaning, Simon pulled them back into an upright position. Still cradling Rose in his arms, he gently drew back and then reached up to cup her face in his hands. He couldn’t help himself from dropping a few more light kisses on her lips as he tried to get his rapidly beating heart under control.

  Rose’s lashes fluttered open and Simon was nearly undone by the hazy passion he saw there.

  “Simon?” she whispered, clearly confused by his withdrawal. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “Oh no, darling,” Simon replied quickly, groaning inwardly as guilt kicked him in the gut. “You could never do anything wrong. In fact, you made me forget where we were for a moment.” He looked around them.

  He knew the moment she realized his meaning, for she flushed brighter than he ever thought possible, and when she heard Chauncy in the hall greeting someone at the door, she became almost frantic in her attempts to straighten her appearance.

  “Rose,” Simon said, reaching up to stop her frenetic movements. She turned to look at him, her eyes wide and expressive. “Let me help you.” Rose nodded and he began deftly rearranging her hair.

  “Mine,” she whispered absently, her hand drifting up to her lips.

  Simon froze when he heard the soft word and when he looked at her, he could see that her eyes were dreamy and unfocused. She probably didn’t even realize she had said it out loud, he thought, but the fact that she had made his heart sink a little. He needed to get himself under control. He needed to stop this incessant wanting of Rose. Yes, she was his fiancée, but if he kept this up she would begin to think he had real feelings for her. Hell, he may begin to believe it himself!

  He had just finished tucking the last stray strand of hair back into place when they heard the sound of footsteps coming their way. Then there was a woman’s voice in the hall greeting someone and within seconds Lady Holderness entered the room with Lord Pembroke just behind her.

  “Rosebud, dear,” Lady Holderness said gaily, clearly overcome with joy to have two such handsome bachelors calling upon her daughter. “Look who has come to visit!”

  Rose curtsied politely and said, “Hello, Lord Pembroke. What a pleasant surprise.”

  William kissed Rose’s knuckles and shook Simon’s hand. “I apologize for stopping by unannounced, but Trumbull mentioned that he would be here this afternoon and there was something I wanted to speak to him about.”

  “That’s quite all right, my lord,” Rose said. “You are always welcome here.”

  “Primrose, my love,” Lady Holderness said, apparently not noticing her daughter wince at the endearment. Simon, however, did notice and he exchanged equally amused looks with Pembroke. “Perhaps we should leave the men alone to talk. We have a ball to prepare for, you know.”

  “If you don’t mind, Lady Holderness,” Simon interjected, “we were hoping Rose could stay here for just a while longer. Lord Pembroke and I need her advice on, er…” Simon blanked as to a suitable reason why two men would need the advice of a young lady and he looked quickly between Rose and William.

  Luckily William came to the rescue by smoothly continuing Simon’s thought with, “…what to purchase my future wife for a wedding present.”

  Simon breathed a sigh of relief at William’s rather brilliant save, but hoped Lady Holderness wouldn’t wonder why both men would need her advice on what to get Hannah for the wedding.

  He needn’t have been concerned though, as Lady Holderness replied, “Oh yes…by all means! How perfectly romantic of you, Lord Pembroke! I will leave you to your discussions then.” She turned to leave the parlor. The three younger persons in the room all sagged a bit in relief, until the lady suddenly turned around with an apparent afterthought.

  Simon would have thought it humorous to see Pembroke and Rose straighten so quickly, if he wasn’t also attempting to regain his own rigid posture.

  “Shall I order tea, do you think?” Lady Holderness wondered.

  “Oh, no, Mother,” Rose said. “I don’t believe that will be necessary. We shan’t be here over long…we all have a ball to prepare for, as you so wisely pointed out.”

  Lady Holderness nodded. “Yes, yes…well, very good then. Carry on.”

  Simon watched as Lady Holderness continued her way out of the room. She frowned slightly when she got to the door and she very purposefully opened it as widely as she could. Then she glanced back with one last reassuring smile and finally exited the room.

  Once they were alone in the parlor, they all burst out laughing.

  “I wonder if I should be flattered or insulted that my mother left me alone in here with two single men?” Rose wondered aloud.

  “Well, she did make sure the door was quite obviously open. Perhaps it is we men who should be insulted? One would think she was not quite so convinced of our gentlemanly chivalry,” William said to Simon with a grin.

  Simon smiled back, but considering he had been somewhat less than a gentleman not ten minutes earlier, he decided not to comment. Rose looked at him with a slight frown before sitting back down on the settee. Clearly, she was second guessing the wisdom of letting him kiss her.

  Simon gladly joined her on the sofa, but made sure to position himself as far from her delectable form as he could.


  As he sat in a chair across from them, William said, “I hope you don’t mind my dropping by, but I was hoping you had found out more about the hidden room.”

  Simon said to William, “No, no, we don’t mind. In fact, we were just, er, getting to that ourselves.”

  “Then you have the information we need?”

  “Yes, right here.” Simon pulled the notepad from his pocket and laid it alongside the plans he and William had drawn up the day before. Using his notes, he began to mark in the outside measurements and the window placement. William and Rose watched the entire process with clear interest.

  It soon became obvious that there was an area on the first floor that did not match internally and externally. According to William’s and Simon’s recollection there was nothing between the second library and the study, and yet from the outside Simon had noted there being a rather distinct round-ish window between the two rooms that was not on the interior plan.

  “That has to be the hidden room,” Rose said excitedly.

  “I believe she is right,” William said. “I am sure we both would remember such a unique window if it were in either the library or the study, don’t you agree?”

  “Yes…the question that remains is how do we get into the room, now that we know where it is?” Simon wondered.

  “I think the access must be in the second library,” William deduced.

  “Why?”

  “Well, that is the room where Collicott displays his other collectables. I just think it would make sense to use that space as an extension of the hidden room.”

  “There is some logic to that,” Simon agreed. “By using the second library for part of his collection, he can admire his public pieces on his way to his private works.”

  “All right,” Rose began with confidence, “we know where the room is, the likely place to look for the hidden entrance, and we know which ring we are looking for…now what?”

  “Now we figure out a plan to retrieve the thing,” Simon replied.

  William nodded. “You need to determine when Collicott will be away from home. The process of finding the room’s entrance is bound to take a while and you want to make sure you have enough time to complete your mission.”