The Games the Earl Plays

by Eleanor Meyers

  Alex nodded. “She’s asked after him a few times. Will you give my cousin a chance?” The change in subject rattled Rose’s mind.

  “Alex, I don’t think—”

  “Give me one good reason you shouldn’t,” Alex said. “And don’t you dare say it’s because you were raised as I was. I stand here a countess of a very powerful home. You could easily be a viscountess. You could be a duchess if you wanted. You’re kind and intelligent.”

  Rose smiled. “With eyes brighter than the ocean and hair the color of warm honey.” She lifted a brow.

  Alex turned pink and looked away. “Well, perhaps I was a little obvious where my intentions were concerned.”

  “But not with me,” Rose hissed. “You didn’t even tell me what he looked like. I was caught off guard.”

  “Good,” Alex told her smugly. “Your life needed a little rattling. You are always working, which I don’t understand since I’ve already told you that you don’t need to.”

  “I didn’t need to before. If I returned to London and asked Chris to take care of me, he would. I could see him now, shrugging a shoulder as though I’d not said a word.”

  Alex giggled. “Oh, yes, that’s very much like Chris.” She took Rose’s hand. “I love our family, but if you married my cousin, there would be no one to say that you and I are not truly related.”

  Rose laughed. “A tempting thought.”

  “Then you’ll give him a chance?” Alex asked with hope.

  “I shouldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m in love with Gerard.”

  Alex took her hand back and covered her mouth. “Oh.” She looked around the room as though fearing someone had heard what Rose had whispered, but she was sure they hadn’t. Then she looked at Rose again. Her mouth was wide open. “Oh.”

  Rose looked away. “I know. It’s silly really. I—”

  Alex touched her belly then grabbed Rose’s arm. “Come with me.” Alex made a pained expression and excused them from the room.

  Once in the hall, Rose said, “Are you all right?”

  Alex dragged her down the hall and into Gerard’s library. “You’re in love with Gerard?” she hissed with disbelief.

  Rose put her hands on her friend’s shoulders. “Alex, are you all right?”

  Alex smacked her hands away. “I’m fine. I only pretended to be in pain so that we could be excused. You’re in love with—”

  “Don’t say it again.” Rose wrapped her arms around herself. “It only serves to make me feel more pathetic than I already do.”

  Alex frowned. “Why would you feel pathetic? This is perfect.”

  “Perfect?” Rose narrowed her eyes. “Why is this perfect?”

  Alex placed her hands on her hips and said in a voice laden with facts, “Because Gerard is in love with you.”

  Rose stilled, and her heart stopped. “He told you this?”

  “No.” Alex rolled her eyes. “Of course not, but it’s quite obvious. I should ask Justin.”

  “No.” Rose grabbed Alex’s shoulders as panic made her blood rush. “Don’t ask Justin, and please don’t tell him.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because Gerard doesn’t love me.” Saying it aloud left her wounded both physically and emotionally.

  “Why do you think so?” Alex asked.

  “Because he told me.” Rose dropped her hands and moved farther into the room. She’d spent the better part of the afternoon crying about it. Once they’d returned to the house, she’d wept over her journal and had filled a great portion of the book with words that read with finality. She’d faced the emotional gallows and had been severed in two. She willed all her belongings to Alex or the baby if she was a girl, just in case she actually died of a broken heart.

  Alex settled into a chair and inhaled. “When did he tell you this?”

  “Earlier today.” Rose fell into another chair and closed her eyes. “He made it very clear that he wanted nothing to do with me in that way. We’ll never be anything more than friends.”

  They were quiet for a long time and then Rose opened her eyes to see Alex’s face was wet. She’d been silently weeping as she stared at her.

  Rose moved over to her chair. “Alex, don’t cry.”

  Alex choked. “Oh, Rose, I’m so sorry. Men are such idiots! How could he—”

  “Shh,” Rose said to quiet her while she stroked her hair. “Lower your voice.”

  Alex frowned and pulled in a breath. “How could he not love you, Rose? You’re everything that is good and sweet in the world.” She shook her head. “I don’t believe it.” She looked away and shook her head. “No, I won’t believe it. It makes more sense that he would be in love with you. You are both always sneaking away.”

  “We’re unconventional friends, Alex,” she said gently. “The ton would never accept it from us. We have to keep it quiet.”

  Alex shook her head again and looked at Rose. “The entire party is for you, isn’t it?”

  Rose’s eyes widened. “How did you know?”

  “Because he came to us after mentioning he got a book from the library. It was clear he went to see you because he had to beg on hand and knee for Justin to bring me here.”

  “Hand and knee?” Rose asked, trying to picture it in her mind.

  “Basically.” Alex rolled her eyes. “All right, it wasn’t exactly hand and knee, but he begged all the same. He told us he’d not have the party until we were there, that the whole idea would be put away if Justin refused. At first, I thought he simply wanted Justin with him during the fall, because until we married, Justin was all he had. Yet just a week before, he made it clear he didn’t want to join us at Chantenny.” She stared at Rose. “This party is for you. After Justin agreed, he made it very clear that you were to come as well.”

  Rose nodded. “I told him I wouldn’t come if you didn’t, but Alex, that doesn’t mean he loves me. We’re only friends.”

  Alex lifted a brow then looked away. “Men are such idiots.”

  Rose wanted to agree, but a knock on the door silenced them both.

  She nearly fainted when Gerard came into the room followed by Justin.

  Justin quickly rushed to his wife. “Why are you crying?”

  Alex smiled at him. “Rose simply told me the most tragic story I’ve ever heard.”

  “She does tell excellent stories,” Gerard said with a smile in her direction.

  Alex looked at them.

  Justin said, “Lady Davis said you left the sitting room in pain.”

  Alex waved her hand. “It’s passed.” She stood. “Could you take me to my room?”

  “Of course.” Justin led his wife from the library and didn’t look back once.

  “I would love to hear this story,” Gerard said.

  * * *

  16

  CHAPTER

  SIXTEEN

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  Gerard leaned forward and rested against the back of the chair, watching as light from the fireplace danced against Rose’s dress. This color not only brought out her eyes, but the unusually vivid color of her lips.

  Alone like this, it made him think of every other time they’d ever been alone and how very different this time seemed. The space was rather dark and, while a month ago that was all he’d have attributed to the atmosphere, there was a new presence. It was warm and sensual.

  He cleared his throat, of what he wasn’t sure, and met her eyes.

  Rose quickly averted her gaze and began to circle the room, her hand running against the bookshelves. How many times had he’d watched her do that very thing and never noticed the way she moved? She was like a seductive dance, slow and sweet. Her hands, hips, even the tilt of her head drew him to her.

  He was at her side before he knew he’d moved. “I hope none of my guests have offended you since we last spoke.”

  She looked
at him from under her lashes. “No.” Then she turned to a row of books that held a small ship carved in wood. “You did this.” It wasn’t a question.

  He narrowed his eyes. “How did you know?”

  She looked him over before returning to the ship. “It seems like something you would do, something you’d be capable of.”

  He didn’t know if that was a compliment and then decided that he was sure it had not been. What else was he capable of? He watched her eyes roam and catch sight of the other ships around the room, mounted on walls and seated on different levels of the bookcase. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Tell you what? That I built ships?” He shrugged. “It hardly seemed significant.” Though he took pride in every one.

  “This takes patience, a fine eye, and steady hands,” Rose whispered, and while the words were pleasant, the emotionlessness in her voice left him puzzled.

  “Was the story you told Alex about your parents?” he asked to get them back on subject.

  Rose’s eyes widened. “No, I don’t know anything about them. You know that.” She turned away and continued down the shelf.

  He followed. “I know. It’s simply that you don’t ever talk about them.”

  “I wouldn’t know what to say.”

  “Yet you have an imagination. You couldn’t possibly tell me that you’ve not had thoughts of them. Not when you reimagine my father as a kindhearted man every chance you get.”

  She smiled at him and laughed. “You know, I have imagined my parents before.”

  They continued around the room silently, Gerard waiting for her to speak.

  “I’ve often wished that Lord Stonewhire was my father.”

  “Really?” he asked in surprise.

  She stopped and turned to him. “What a story that would be. Can you imagine? I’m the youngest employee the library has ever had. Mr. Tash always takes my suggestions, and when Lord Stonewhire comes, he more like than not sits to speak with me.” She smiled. “He said I’d have made an excellent lady.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  Her lips parted in shock. “You’re not?”

  He leaned a shoulder against the shelves. “Not at all. You have grace, are well read—”

  “Have no royal blood,” she went on.

  He lifted a dark brow. “How do you know? Alex discovered her father was the Viscount of Wint last year. There’s a great chance you could be the daughter of some lord or another.” He straightened and then bowed. “Lady Montgomery.” When he lifted his head, he found her smiling at him.

  She shook her head and laughed. “You must never call me that in public.”

  “I won’t.” He held out his hand.

  She stared at it as though it were some foreign delicacy. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m asking a lady to dance.”

  She frowned. “There’s no music.”

  He tsked. “I thought you had a better imagination than that.” He kept his hand steady, daring her.

  Rose looked at his hand once more and then met his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be entertaining your guests?”

  He sucked air through his teeth and grabbed her hand before he pulled her into the middle of the room. Then he placed one hand on her back and brought the other one up against his palm. He took the first step and, with a grace she naturally possessed, she followed him, moving in tune amidst the silence.

  Gerard held her eyes and watched a series of emotions cut across her features, some making her nose wrinkle. She narrowed her eyes to nothing more than slits.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Entertaining my most important guest.” He began to hum a tune, watching as Rose took it in and broke into laughter. It was Lady Sylvia’s version of a solo.

  He leaned down and placed his head against her, his cheeks catching the last breaths of laughter as they flowed from her and slowly died.

  He closed his eyes and inhaled. “What’s wrong?”

  Her voice was breathy. “I… don’t know what you mean.”

  “There was something wrong when I walked into the room.” He opened his eyes. “Tell me what’s the matter.”

  She dropped her eyes. This close to her, he could truly make out the texture of her skin. Flawless. He knew firsthand how smooth it was. He’d touched her cheeks before. He’d been unable to help himself.

  What did that mean?

  “You’ve been avoiding me,” she whispered.

  His heart squeezed painfully, forcing his eyes closed. “I’m sorry, Rose.”

  “Why?” She leaned away to look at him. “Why have you avoided me?”

  “I… don’t know.” When had they stopped dancing?

  “You do,” she countered. “Am I not good enough for you?” She tried to break away from him, but his hand on her back kept her near. Then he pulled her closer. His other hand joined the first and held her hips.

  “You’re good enough, Rose.” Far too good and gentle.

  Her eyes said she didn’t believe him. “Harley takes no issue with allowing a hint a gossip where our friendship is concerned.”

  At the mention of the viscount—much less by that irritating name that Alex had given him—Gerard snapped, “I regret inviting him.”

  “Why?” She looked bewildered.

  “Because that man wants more than friendship from you.”

  “And?” she asked, waiting.

  “And…” His heart raced. “Do you like him?”

  She rested her hands on his arms and held his gaze. “Do you care?”

  “What a ridiculous question. Of course, I care about you, Rose. I want to protect you.” He cupped her cheeks. “I want you safe.”

  “Safe from what?” she asked.

  Safe from his father, which meant she had to be safe from him. He let her go and took a step away.

  “I won’t do this anymore.” She started for the door.

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her back toward him. “Do what?”

  “Hide in the shadows of your life.” She shook her head. “I won’t do it anymore. Either we’re friends or we are not. You decide."

  He hesitated.

  “Why did you have this party?” she pressed.

  He didn’t speak. The possibilities of what she was suggesting and the ramifications of his actions clouded his mind.

  Disappointment filled her eyes. “Gerard—”

  “We’re friends.” His father could hang.

  She stilled. “What?”

  “We’re friends. We’ll always be friends, and I wish everyone to know it.”

  She watched him warily.

  He went on. “This party was so that I could be with you, and I’ll not have us meeting in the shadows anymore. You are my most important guest, and I shall treat you that way.”

  “People will think we’re courting,” she countered.

  “I don’t care,” he told her and touched her cheek once more. “When I look back on these days, I don’t want it to be with regret. I won’t limit my time with you anymore, Rose.” He didn’t think he could.

  She stared at him and slowly smiled.

  He placed a chaste kiss at the corner of her mouth, lingering for only a second or so before pulling away. He grinned. “Be prepared, because I plan to be quite obnoxious with my greed for your attention.”

  She laughed, and his soul eased. This was his Rose. Like a flower, she was best in the sun.

  * * *

  17

  CHAPTER

  SEVENTEEN

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  Rose stood at the edge of the quarry and stared down into the pit and walls of rich brown rock that the locals claimed were dug in ancient times. The morning air was crisp and the wind stronger here, as though the past came to life and whispered in her ear, causing the grass to brush against her skirts.

  The earth seemed to have been cut in a way that formed
a staircase for some large being who’d spent time in the blue waters below, though she knew that wasn’t the case. The quarry had been left by miners at a time before there had been a Duke of Avon. Even before the Romans, the villagers thought the rock to have been cut by those unknown people of long ago who’d built the large stacked rocks that were now called Stonehenge.

  Grass and weeds grew on the various levels and around its beguiling pool while large mounds of gravel sat in heaps.

  “There was limestone here,” Gerard said. He’d been standing quietly at her side and moved closer to point to an empty plain on the other side of the quarry. “Our history states there was once a village there. The men worked the mines while their families remained close.”

  She turned to looked into Gerard’s face and found his eyes on her. In the early morning, they reminded her of two well-polished pennies, as though they’d been formed out of precious stone that glowed no matter the light.

  The sound of someone’s laughter made her turn to watch a few of the other members of the group make their way down the path that led to the heart of the quarry. The men were assisting the ladies. Lady Henrietta Jones had laughed. She’d tripped, but her husband had caught her. They were a young couple and, from their smiles, they were very much in love.

  They put a smile on Rose’s face, and she told herself not to be envious of the scene. She and Gerard would never be them, but she was grateful for the time they had today. Though Gerard had kept his promise to show her more attention, it was the first outing in a week where Miss Louisa was not present to interrupt.

  She and her father had been called away to attend to one of his patients.

  “Can you imagine what it was like to live here?” she asked Gerard. “A time when even the wealthy and kings worked just as hard as their people. The king even went to war.” She could see it. A wild village of warriors and miners who dug for the precious stone that would help in the heating and molding of iron for weapons. Now all that remained was a vast hole in the earth, forever a testament to that time.