“Rose.” James blocked her vision, his body solid and alive before her.
She looked up, relief making her dizzy. He pulled her to him, hugging her tight.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair. His hands held her so gently and he cradled her to him as if afraid to hurt her. Afraid to break her. “I’m sorry for what I did. I’m sorry about your father.”
“It’s all right,” Rose whispered in assurance. She ran her hands over his shoulders and pulled back just enough to cup his face. “It’s all right, James. I did not know it was he who was mad.”
His gaze flickered over her face, landed on her throat. His fingers brushed, impossibly light, over the tender skin of her throat. “It should never have come to this.”
“James.”
A startled female gasp interrupted what Rose was about to say. She turned sharply, ready for she did not know what, but given all that happened since arriving here, she was prepared. Sally stood in the door, looking an odd mixture of horrified and calculating.
“You would have let me die,” she snapped at the maid.
“What could I do?” Sally asked in a panicked, high-pitched voice. “What could I do?”
“You can starve,” James snapped at her. “Leave this house with nothing.” He didn’t release Rose but turned once more so his body protected her. “Get out now.”
Sally didn’t move but paled and looked from James to Rose and back again. Her mouth was open, as if to plead.
“Get out now!” James shouted.
Sally jumped and turned from the room, running down the hall to the door. Rose turned to follow but James was there, gently helping her walk. She almost laughed at him and told him she was fine, but she didn’t want him out of her sight as much as he wanted her beside him.
Sally ran out the front door, fast as she could. Rose thought she might regret that later—the woman didn’t have so much as a coat or gloves. But right then, she didn’t. Sally always followed Robert’s orders, no matter what they were. She catered to him and fawned over him so much that it sickened Rose.
Now, knowing Sally was in the house this entire time but did nothing to help her, Rose did not feel regret. Only a tired anger that dragged her down.
“Let’s go home, James.” She looked up at him and managed a smile. “I want to go home now.”
Epilogue
IT WAS AFTER midnight before Rose had the chance to breathe again. Not literally, though that was something she’d never take for granted again. After they called for the magistrate and James insisted on calling the doctor, everyone else descended.
Isabella and Jonathan, Octavia, and Annabelle arrived in a whirl of chaos, but a good kind. A refreshing kind, as if they blew through and cleaned out her and James’s past.
Rose might not have been used to James’s friends, not entirely, not yet, but it was lovely having them there. They were a supportive group who listened and believed them as they told the story about what happened in Robert Kendrick’s house.
Oh, she saw their expressions, but they didn’t comment. They didn’t say a word. But Rose knew they recognized James’s dreams in their story. Rose recognized them now, as well.
Thanking Shaw for undoing her gown, Rose sipped the cold honey tea. It felt delicious sliding down her throat, and she sighed contentedly. She’d have to thank Mrs. Shelley for that as well as for sending a footman round to fetch James immediately and not waiting.
“James.”
He took her gently in his arms, holding her close as they stood before the bed.
“I know,” she whispered. “I saw it, too.”
He pulled back and looked down at her. Even in the darkness of the room, she saw his confusion. Rose brushed her fingers down the side of his face.
“I know, I was there.” She offered a slight smile. “You wore your redcoat. Asked me not to see him again.” She nodded. “And you were right to ask that of me. But I did, I found him in his study and saw him again. I told him I planned to leave with you.”
Horror and understanding colored his face, and he tried to speak. Rose stopped him and pulled him close; she kissed him softly and felt him relax.
“His anger then,” she added in that same soothing, quiet voice despite her story, “was as frightening as it was tonight. I tried to run from him, James. Tried to get back to you. But I couldn’t.”
Her hands shook on his face, and he caught them in his. Warm and large, the same grip she felt in the past, in those memories. He was the same man. The man who loved her, would do anything for her.
“When I knew it was the end, all I thought of was that I left you alone.” She shook her head and struggled for more words, to tell him her full understanding, but they caught in her throat.
“I looked for you.” His voice cracked, and he held her close. He ran his fingers over her shoulders, down her back, afraid to let her out of his reach. “I searched for you everywhere, tried to get into that damned castle, tried to find you. Days and days. I fought them. And then I returned to the crag.”
James stopped, and the look on his face broke Rose’s heart all over again. She took his hands, unsurprised to find her fingers trembled. Or his did. It didn’t matter; she held him close and walked him backward to the bed, urging him to sit.
Rose stood between his legs and brushed her fingers through his hair, down the nape of his neck. She pressed her lips to his forehead and held him close.
“I went to the crag and found you,” James said, his voice rough with memory of then and now. “I’ve always known it, always seen it.”
“I know.” She pressed her lips to his. “I know.” She looked at him and tried to smile, to reassure him. “I know.”
She deepened the kiss to let him feel every ounce of love she had for him, this wonderful man who searched two lifetimes for her. His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer. Rose leaned over him, her fingers tangled in his hair, completely open to him in every way.
Rose pulled back and wiped her fingers beneath his eyes. He offered a slight smile and did the same for her, taking her tears with a kiss and a smile.
“It’s so strange,” Rose said, her voice thick with relief and tears, with joy over knowing she had her lover, “knowing you lived then.”
“For years,” James admitted, “I thought they were only dreams. Or an old story, as you said once, that I read or heard.” He sighed but didn’t look away or release her. “They’ve always haunted me. Then—” He stopped and his grin widened, brightened. “Then I saw you.”
“I should be frightened by all this,” Rose admitted. “Yet I am not. I should question it as if it were a madness.” She shook her head. “But I do not.” She trailed her finger along his jaw. “Fate gave us another chance. This time,” she promised, “we didn’t allow it to be taken from us.”
James pulled her down again. “I love you,” he said against her mouth.
“I’ve known it for centuries,” Rose agreed.
A Note to my Incredible Readers
I hope you enjoyed this installment of my Regency series: Scandalous Encounters. I really loved James and Rose’s story. I have to admit, it was one of my favorites, but don’t tell my other characters!
Currently I’m working on a new Curvy Girl series. It doesn’t take place in the same world as my Curvy Girl’s Guide to Love Series, but has strong curvy women making their way in the world.
If you have enjoyed my stories, I’d greatly appreciate you sharing your views on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or Goodreads. I’m always available through email if you have any comments, questions, or requests.
If you’d like to sign up for my newsletter, I post news about my stories, excerpts, and historical recipes exclusive to the newsletter. You can also find me on Twitter, on my Blog, on Facebook, and pinning like mad on Pinterest.
As always, thank you so much for reading!
About Kristabel Reed
Kristabel Reed lives on the East Coast and loves to explore
the steamier side of historical romance. She loves all romances, but historical ménages particularly which add an element of danger and discovery not seen in contemporaries.
She loves reading, watching old movies, random quotes, and anything Cary Grant.
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Improper Wedding: Scandalous Encounters Page 20