The Games the Earl Plays

by Eleanor Meyers

  Gerard took her hand and helped her down the path of rocks. In such an outing, no one would question them touching in such a way. Though Rose knew he only did it to assist her, she took pleasure in it nonetheless. “Would you have wished to marry such a man? A warrior?”

  Rose allowed her feet to settle on a cleared path and took her hand from Gerard’s before she spoke. “I don’t know… If he were kind and gentle, perhaps… or as gentle as a warrior could be.”

  Gerard smiled. “He’d be gentle with you.” He ran his hand down her arm slowly. “Any man who wasn’t would have to deal with me.”

  She laughed and shrugged away the pleasure of that touch. “Are you calling me weak and fragile, Gerard?”

  “Not weak, but delicate,” he countered. “And with enough strength, beauty, and intelligence to humble a warrior.”

  The words were a compliment and nothing more. This was what she told herself over and over again until she could speak.

  “Do you think that you’d have been a warrior?” She started down the descending path. It was wide enough for them to walk side by side.

  “Would you picture me as anything else?” he asked.

  She glanced over at him. “No, I could not, for I could never see you as anything other than a leader of men.” Whether today or thousands of years ago, she imagined that power was something that ran through the de Gray blood. With his height, strong looks, and muscled physique, Gerard had clearly been predestined to be a man of authority, whether he was a warrior or a duke.

  He smiled at her. “That’s a nice thing to say.”

  She turned back to the path. “It’s the truth, and I think you a fine leader as well.” After yesterday’s lecture, Rose had listened to a footman report that a basket of food had been taken to a family where the father had fallen ill, a sheep farmer who worked on the edge of the Avon land. The basket had been more than thoughtful, and as though that hadn’t been kind enough, Gerard had given the farmer extended time to pay rent, saying there was no need for the man to worry about anything but getting well for the time being.

  Rose didn’t know if this was the usual way for a duke to handle those who were under his rule, but she noticed more than a few smiles of admiration as they’d been shown into the carriage. Gerard was liked, and that was good.

  And absolutely nothing like his father.

  He’d have made a fine king.

  She realized then that in the middle of her thoughts she’d stopped to stare at him, and he’d stopped as well.

  “A cave!” Lady Henrietta's voice echoed in the quarry. “Might we go inside?” She stood at the start of a large opening in the rock. A table by the cave’s entrance held a stack of candles of flint as though in preparation for the visit.

  Gerard looked down and over to where most of the group stood. A few were still on the rounding path just a little farther than Rose and Gerard. “You may,” he called down. “I’ve had a local ensure it was clean for visitors.”

  Lord Jones lit a candle and shared the flame with another gentleman before he and his wife disappeared into the cave, wearing expressions of excitement. Caving hadn’t been mentioned as part of the outing, but Alex had warned the ladies to wear boots before they’d left.

  Gerard placed a hand on Rose’s elbow and started down the path once more.

  “Does anything live in there?” Rose asked.

  “Not any large beast,” he told her. “But there were webs and a few… other creatures.”

  “Birds?” she asked.

  “Of a sort.”

  When they reached the cave, the others had all but vanished, though their voices could be heard in the distance. Gerard lit a candle and then took her hand before entering.

  The cave was cool and damp, and though Gerard walked at her side, it was slightly eerie. The stone’s uneven texture seemed to jut out just as the candle’s light fell upon it. The voices of the others could still be heard but were faint. How deep did the path go? He must have felt her shiver because, in the next second, his arm was around her.

  “Cold?” he asked.

  She pressed into him and inhaled his scent. His arm and side were hard but comforting. “A little.” She’d admit to anything if he continued to hold her this way.

  “Scared?” he teased, his eyes glittering with the candle’s flame.

  She smiled. “What could I fear with a warrior for my escort?”

  “Perhaps the damsel should fear the warrior.” His eyes warmed. “We’ve been known to ravage the innocent.”

  Heat touched her exposed skin and all but banished the cold.

  Gerard leaned forward, and Rose stilled.

  His mouth went to her ear. “Collywobbles.”

  She fell apart with laughter, her breath so great that it blew out the flame and plunged them into darkness.

  “Rose?” Lady Henrietta called from up ahead. “Have you and Lord Obenshire made it?”

  There was the brush of something soft at her lips and then the feel of something rough that caused her spine to stiffen and encased her body in heat.

  A second later, Gerard answered Lady Henrietta. “We’re close.”

  Rose’s heart raced, and she wondered if she’d imagined the touch. Had Gerard kissed her? Surely not. Or maybe he’d touched her lips with his hand. Had she been touched at all or was it only her imagination with the added effects of the darkness?

  “Come, my damsel.” His voice sounded different. Darker. Breathy. Gerard found her hand in the dark and cleared his throat. “Stay close to me. I know the way. There is a slight descent up ahead.”

  She locked her fingers with his. “Gerard?” She followed him into the dark just as she would follow him anywhere else.

  He didn’t answer at first, then said quietly, “I’m here, Rose.”

  She knew he was. She had his hand after all. “When the flame went out, did you—”

  “Just a little farther.”

  She pressed her lips together and decided she didn’t want to know the answer. She didn’t want to be wrong about it. She’d take her stolen kiss—if that was what such a small brush could be called—and let it be.

  * * *

  18

  CHAPTER

  EIGHTEEN

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  He’d kissed her.

  But not really.

  Yet then he’d licked her.

  And that he could not deny.

  What an impulsive move. Even now his was blood rushing in his ears.

  He’d definitely licked Rose as though he were a wild beast hunting in the dark, lured by the smell of its prey and unwilling to relinquish her until he’d had a taste.

  And Rose was sweet, but he’d not had enough. He’d known better than to take more than what he’d had, using the darkness to hide his growing desire. For the last week, he’d teased her, but in the end, he was teasing himself much more.

  And now he knew what it was like to truly touch that tempting reddened mouth.

  She’d been about to ask him about the kiss, and he’d purposefully cut her off. It had been so fleeting that a part of him could pretend it didn’t happen.

  But not the part where her taste lingered.

  If he wanted to, he could stop them where they were and take her in the dark, press his body against hers and kiss her in a way that a mouth like hers beckoned. The thought of it was only made more pleasurable by the fact that it was Rose those lips were attached to. She was everything a man could want as a friend… and lover. She made him laugh, and he never felt a dull moment when in her presence. Her soul was as sweet as honey, and he was lucky enough to claim—if only to himself—to have sipped a portion of it.

  With every passing moment, he was finding it harder to think of spending his life with another woman as he did with Rose. Between the bantering and laughter, he was willing to trade away so much of who he was if only to have her always.


  But what he would not trade was her safety.

  “Is that the end of the cave?” Rose asked.

  He was staring ahead and knew what she spoke of. A blue shadow of light danced up ahead.

  “Is it?” she pressed.

  “Since I have no intention of giving you an answer, you’ll have to wait and see.”

  She groaned and pulled on his arm, a strange sensation in the darkness. “I don’t wish to wait. Could you not simply tell me what we are walking toward?”

  The sound of voices was drawing closer. In a moment, her every question would be answered… well, at least every question that involved the cave.

  The mouth of the cave opened, and he heard Rose’s breath catch as she took in the sight of the grotto. A small hot spring was surrounded by the limestone that both hung and shot up from the ground. Gerard’s grandfather had built a pathway through the area so that visitors could see it from various sides. Gerard himself swam here alone whenever he had the chance. A small opening at the top of the cave—which was another feature his grandfather put in—allowed sunlight to fill the pass.

  He released her hand as they approached the others and allowed Rose to guide them down the stone bridge that wrapped the spring, pausing whenever she paused and moving when she did.

  “Who built this cave?” she asked.

  Gerard shrugged. “I’ve no idea, but no one was able to visit it until my grandfather managed to clear some of the limestone out.”

  She touched one of the stalagmites, running her fingers up the column of stone. “How did this come to be?”

  Gerard sighed. “Nature.” He noticed many of the other guests were listening as well. “The stalactite that hangs from the roof was created naturally as was the stalagmite on the ground. Besides clearing a way for viewing, he managed to have parts of the limestone processed before making sculptures.” He pointed out a row of smooth stone columns in the back of the cave.

  The group moved over to the solid limestone columns. While those in the front were plain, his grandfather had left details on the side, sculptures of people embedded in the stone. Henrietta gasped as she saw the body of a woman engraved in the column, her eyes as soft as her creator had curved her body to appear.

  “Extraordinary,” one of the older gentlemen said.

  “You’ll find different carvings throughout the cave.”

  The party went on to search for what they could find.

  Rose turned to Gerard. “I’m surprised your father hasn’t destroyed this.”

  “My father has never been here,” Gerard confessed, and he was very glad of it. “He’s never liked this place.”

  “Why?” she asked. “Because it’s peaceful?” Her blue eyes teased.

  He chuckled. “Perhaps, but my father and his father never got along. Grandfather only grew to tolerate me when I showed to have my own talents.”

  “The ships,” she guessed.

  He nodded.

  “Oh, look!” Lord Jones said. “It’s a city!”

  Everyone moved to the bridge on the far side of the cave and looked over. There was a small city cut from blocks of limestone and set in a cleared area. There were buildings and homes with a few various people about. It was what he imagined their land to have looked like before the rule of Rome.

  Gerard pressed closer to Rose and spoke in a whisper. “My grandfather would have liked you.”

  She turned. and Gerard leaned back so that their mouths would not meet, hoping the move would give her the impression that he’d not sought those same lips out a few moments ago in the dark.

  She paused and blinked before speaking. “Why do you think he’d have liked me?”

  “He was very imaginative like yourself, though he liked to believe that all his thoughts were based on reason and conclusions that came from research and study.”

  She smiled and turned back to the city. “Who do you think I’d have been?”

  That was an easy question. He pointed to the woman who stood in the center of the scene. Her expression was serene and her poise graceful, yet she seemed out of place from the rest of the limestone world, as though she was seeing beyond what was there. Gerard had come to Avon Park before the party’s start and had visited the quarry, dubbing the woman in the center of the limestone city Rose.

  She stared at the woman and then nodded. “Yes,” she whispered so that only he could hear. “I often feel out of place, unsure of where I belong.”

  How easy the words you belong to me came to his mind and, though he refused to say them aloud, they took residence in his blood.

  The return to the house seemed to go much faster than their arrival, and Gerard regretted that he had to leave the cave at all. He’d have much rather spent the evening there with Rose, even tempting her to take a swim with him. He wondered at the possibility of him finding an opportunity to slip away with her one evening during the party and take her there again.

  “What are you thinking about?” She sat by his side on the open curricle, her skin made warm by the setting sun, her eyes full of laughter and peace. A pale curl brushed her cheek with the movement of the carriage over and over again, tempting him to reach out for her, but there were others on the road who would see such a move and think more rested between them than friendship.

  Which wasn’t true.

  They were only friends.

  “I’m thinking of how we might sneak away and return to the cave one day,” he confessed, seeing no reason not to.

  Her eyes widened. “Impossible. We’d be gone for hours. Rumors would arise.”

  That was very true. “Then you’ll simply have to visit again when there are fewer people about. Perhaps we could have a smaller affair with just Justin and Alex.”

  She was silent for a moment and hid her face from him as she stared toward the hills.

  He waited patiently for her to speak, allowing himself to concentrate on leading the horses for a time, but when he could take no more, he spoke. “Now it is I who wishes to know your thoughts.”

  Again, he thought she wouldn’t speak.

  “It seems more appropriate for you to take the future Countess of Obenshire, not someone like me.”

  His heart skipped a beat. “Someone like you?”

  “Someone who you will only ever see as a friend,” she countered with unwavering eyes, her color rising.

  He frowned and wished her words to be true, but his mind had begun to play tricks with him as of late. No longer was he content to simply see her every once and a while. He could see her every day, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

  And in her words seemed another hidden secret, one he wished to inquire after, yet he knew he had no right to do so.

  It was he who turned away just as the carriage came to a stop before the house. He got out and helped Rose down, but before showing her to the door, he asked, “And what do you see me as?”

  Her eyes widened.

  “Lord Obenshire!” Louisa rushed from the house and stopped before them. “I’m glad you’ve returned. I feared you and the others were lost. Surely a simple quarry could not hold your attention for half a day?” Her gaze dared him to argue with anything she said.

  He cleared his throat. “I enjoyed the quarry. Didn’t you, Rose?”

  “Yes—”

  “Excellent.” Louisa didn’t bother to spare Rose a glance as she placed a charming smile on her lips. “I was terribly upset when my father informed me that I’d have to miss the outing to assist him with a patient, but the hopeless must come first, after all, shouldn’t they? Either way, he’s sworn never to call me again while I attend your party.” And there was a promise in her eyes that said it would be nearly impossible to get away from her in the near future.

  An inner struggle began within him, for while he’d rather spend every waking moment with Rose, it was not wise. What would have come of them if Rose had given him the reply he’d hoped for? And what was it that he actually hoped for?

  With that, he
grabbed Louisa’s hand—a move that startled her—and placed it on his arm before extending the other to Rose.

  Rose took it without meeting his eyes. Louisa filled them in on everything they’d missed since the party’s departure. Gerard knew he was using the lady as a buffer, but he couldn’t help doing so, especially when he knew it was the right move.

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  19

  CHAPTER

  NINETEEN

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  Rose opened her letter from Alicia and read the contents. After Gerard had demanded she not leave for the city without company, she’d sent a letter off to Alicia and Mary Frances to gain their approval of taking a guest with her.

  They approved.

  They’d also told her that there was a staircase from the dining room to the third floor, but Rose hadn’t seen it. Could she have missed something as large as a staircase? She’d have to check again.

  She smiled and put the letter aside, envisioning yet another afternoon with Gerard. She hoped she could get him to slip away with her for a few hours. That had been her goal when she’d gone in search of him. Remembering that she’d refused his offer to play lawn games earlier that day in exchange for spending a few hours with Alex, she started for the front door, but her hopes of taking Gerard away were dashed once she caught sight of Miss Louisa.

  There was a game of Pall Mall taking place, and Louisa’s balls seemed to move wherever would bring her closer to Gerard. If she took him now, the woman was likely to cause a scene and instigate scandal.