by Laura Martin
‘I thought I did. I was infatuated, I suppose.’
‘Did he love you?’
She snorted and Thomas could see the tears glistening in her defiant eyes.
‘No.’
He waited, there was obviously a lot more to the story she wasn’t letting on.
‘Did he tell you that he loved you?’
‘Not in so many words. There were gestures and tokens. But he never actually made me any promises, not explicitly.’
Thomas grimaced. He’d known plenty of his sort, the kind of man who seduces and entraps an innocent young woman, making her think he loved her only to pull away when he grew tired or someone new came along.
‘You thought you would be married?’ Thomas asked softly.
‘The night...’ Rosa trailed off, hugging her arms around her chest protectively. ‘He gave me a ring, just a tarnished old thing. He didn’t say a word when he placed it on my finger.’
‘He let you believe it was a proposal.’
Rosa nodded. Reaching out, Thomas took one of Rosa’s hands in his own, entwining their fingers before gently resting it down in her lap. ‘And afterwards?’
‘I didn’t see him for a few days, but that wasn’t unusual.’
Thomas could imagine Rosa waiting nervously for the man she thought she loved to come and make things right. To save her from scandal, from ruin. Rosa sighed and closed her eyes, and Thomas realised the effort it was taking for her to tell this story without breaking down and losing control of herself.
‘Eventually I managed to sneak out one evening. I waited for hours for him to return home from some soirée he’d been attending.’ She shivered as if remembering the chill that seeped under her skin as she waited for the father of her child. ‘He was drunk when he returned and scornful. He dismissed me almost immediately, called me a harlot and denied the child was his.’
Thomas felt his muscles tense and his jaw clench. It was cowardly behaviour to condemn Rosa like that and completely unforgivable.
‘I begged and pleaded with him, promised I had never been intimate with anyone else.’ Rosa gave a wry smile, but Thomas could tell it pained her to remember the shame and embarrassment of having to beg the man she loved to acknowledge her. ‘He told me never to contact him again.’
‘That’s when you told your parents.’
Rosa nodded. ‘I knew I was with child as soon as I missed my monthly courses. I spoke to David about a week later and my parents as soon as he had rejected me.’
‘What did they say?’
‘My mother ranted and raved for about half an hour, told me I was a disgrace, a whore, no better than a common prostitute.’
‘And your father?’
‘He just looked at me, disappointed.’
Thomas could tell it was her father’s reaction that had hurt her more. From the snippets of information he had gleaned about Rosa over the last few weeks, it sounded as though she’d had a difficult relationship with her mother at the best of times. It was her father who had read to her at night as a child, who had taken her for trips out into the countryside and discussed books and politics with her over dinner.
‘Mother arranged for me to be sent away.’
‘And your father didn’t object.’
‘It is hard to contradict my mother.’ Despite Rosa’s defence of her father Thomas wondered if she was a little disappointed not to have found someone to stand up for her on that front. ‘So there you have it,’ Rosa said with a grimace. ‘All the sordid details.’
Not all the sordid details, Thomas thought. There was still more she was holding back, something deeper, more painful, that she wasn’t quite ready to talk about yet.
‘I think you have been very poorly treated,’ Thomas said, shifting so he was facing her.
‘I think I have been very foolish.’
‘And I can see why you find it difficult to trust me,’ he pressed on.
‘I...’ Rosa started to interrupt, but Thomas held up a silencing hand.
‘You fear history may repeat itself, that I may promise you the world and then go back on my promise. You are fighting for your future, and the future of your child, and you are reluctant to put that future in anyone’s hands but your own.’
He paused, but could see his speech was ringing true at least a little. He always had been eloquent, always won the debates at university and been able to talk round even the most hostile of hosts on his travels.
‘I want to marry you, Rosa. And I want to do it here and now, or at least as soon as possible. Once we have said our vows there will be no backing out, no abandoning you.’
‘Why?’ It was barely more than a whisper, but the single word cut through Thomas and halted the flow of his speech.
‘I told you why. I want to protect you and your child, give you a future. I want a companion for my mother, I want a family to enliven the estate.’
Rosa shook her head sadly. ‘It still doesn’t make sense, Thomas. You’re not telling me something and I will not marry you unless you give me the whole truth.’
He felt his throat tighten, the uneasiness that surrounded him whenever anyone got close to the truth about his family weigh down upon him.
‘There is nothing else,’ he said, trying to sound light and reassuring, but knowing the words came out stiff and untrue.
Rosa shook her head, disentangled her hand from his and waited for him to meet her eye.
‘What about your brother?’ Rosa asked.
Thomas felt every muscle in his body tense.
‘What about him?’
‘You never told me you had a brother, and by the way you reacted when Mr Peterson mentioned him he must have been very dear to you.’
‘He was,’ Thomas said stiffly. ‘He died. It is difficult to talk about.’
Rosa waited, looking up at him with her big, inquisitive eyes.
‘I’d rather not talk about it,’ Thomas said.
Rosa sighed, leaving a long pause before continuing. ‘I do find it hard to trust, after what I’ve experienced I think that is justifiable. I cannot tie my life to yours, to tie both of our lives to yours, when I know you are lying to me. Please do not ask me again unless you are ready to tell me whatever it is you are hiding.’
Chapter Eleven
Rosa flopped back on the bed and let out a weary groan. It was exhausting, pretending to be married to Thomas. Every time they sat down to eat he would put an arm around her, pull her in close and insist on feeding her morsels from his plate. Every time the carriages stopped to allow them to stretch their legs Thomas would lift her down, kiss her cheek and take her hand before Rosa could even think about making an escape. And every time they were alone together he would regale her of tales from his travels or escapades from his time at university.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like the attention, far from it. A day spent with Thomas courting her was thrilling and entertaining and pleasurable, but every moment they spent together she felt him chipping away at her resolve to resist him.
Rosa knew that was the point, he was a determined man, someone who wasn’t used to being denied anything, and he was approaching her resistance to his proposal with an assault by charm. She was determined she would not falter.
She groaned as there was a soft knock on the door. After a day spent travelling all she wanted was five minutes to lie down before dinner.
She opened the door to find Thomas leaning in a relaxed manner on the doorpost.
‘Is it time for dinner already?’
‘Not quite. There is a small problem.’
Rosa heard movement in the corridor passage behind Thomas before she saw Mr and Mrs Peterson, followed closely by a worried-looking landlady.
‘There aren’t enough rooms.’
She frowned, watching Mr and Mrs Peterson open the door to the room across the corridor and enter, only to leave the door open behind them.
Rosa dropped her voice, aware they had an audience. ‘Not enough rooms? What do you mean?’
‘Very busy time of year... Lots of travellers heading for Venice... Last room available,’ the landlady gushed in rapid Italian, but after a few weeks in the country Rosa was skilled enough to get her general meaning.
‘It just means we will have to share a room, my dear,’ Thomas said, his voice light and jovial.
‘No.’ Rosa shook her head adamantly. ‘There must be another way.’
‘No need to be shy, darling, we share a room at home after all.’
‘No.’ Rosa continued to shake her head.
‘I know it is unpleasant when you are travelling,’ Mrs Peterson said, her ringlets bobbing up and down earnestly as she spoke, ‘You are weary to the bone and confined to such cramped quarters, but needs must, Lady Hunter.’
‘I could share with Mrs Peterson,’ Rosa whispered to Thomas. For some reason she hadn’t really warmed to their female travelling companion, but she supposed she could endure one night in her company if it meant she wouldn’t be sleeping in the same room as Thomas.
‘I will be a complete gentleman,’ Thomas said, his voice low. Quickly he grasped her hand and planted a kiss in the middle of her palm. Whilst Rosa was distracted by the feel of his soft lips on her skin Thomas turned to the landlady and the Petersons. ‘The matter is resolved. My wife and I will share a chamber.’
Before Rosa could protest Thomas swept her into the room and closed the door behind them.
‘No,’ Rosa said emphatically.
‘Many married couples share a bedroom.’
‘We’re not married.’
‘Not yet.’
‘My answer is still no.’
‘To sharing a bedroom or to marrying me?’
‘Sharing a bedroom. Marrying you. Everything.’
‘Not everything, surely,’ Thomas said, raising an eyebrow suggestively.
‘Everything,’ Rosa repeated firmly.
‘I don’t mean to ravish you and then force our marriage,’ Thomas said, the smile lingering on his lips, but his voice becoming more serious.
‘It wouldn’t be appropriate.’
‘Who is to know?’
‘The Petersons.’
‘They believe we are blissfully married. Rosa, you are travelling unchaperoned with a single man through a foreign country. And you are already pregnant. I don’t believe spending one night, one chaste night, in the same room as me is going to make much difference to your reputation.’
She knew he was correct. Soon she would have to let go of her desire to keep up appearances. She would have to learn to show the world she was a ruined woman, disgraced and abandoned. It just went against everything she had been brought up to believe, although she knew ultimately any humiliation would be worth holding her baby in her arms, nurturing her son or daughter through their childhood. It still didn’t make spending the night in the same room as Thomas any easier.
‘There is no other option, Rosa. I will sleep in the chair; you may have the bed.’
She knew the matter was resolved in Thomas’s eyes. When he spoke in that tone of voice, firm and unwavering, there was no swaying him. He began to unpack their small bags, shaking out the creases from the hastily packed clothes and hanging them in the small wardrobe. Rosa realised he did this out of habit, the movements so natural to him from his years spent travelling, moving on from place to place every few days.
As she watched his fingers danced over the knot of his cravat and for a second she thought he might start to undress right there in front of her. The memory of his taut body, the tanned skin pulled tight over the firm muscles, made her feel hot all over and Rosa felt her fingertips grip the edge of the bed just that little bit harder. After a second Thomas tugged at the cravat, pulling it from his neck and letting it fall to the chair.
‘Damn uncomfortable thing,’ he murmured.
Rosa already knew he was more comfortable in simple shirtsleeves and trousers—the cravat and jacket were not only impractical in the scorching sun, but just other things to get dusty and dirty on the road. Once the cravat was dealt with he stripped off his jacket, turning quickly to catch Rosa watching him.
‘I suppose I’d better stop there,’ he said quietly, carefully folding his shirtsleeves over on themselves to reveal his bronzed forearms.
‘I doubt they’ll serve you dinner if you take any more off.’
‘You’ll want to get changed, I expect,’ Thomas said, studying her intently.
Rosa nodded, waiting for him to take his leave, but he just stood watching her for a few more seconds.
‘I can meet you downstairs,’ she prompted.
Thomas nodded abruptly, spun on his heel and opened the door. He lingered, looking back over his shoulder as if he wanted to say something, but eventually shook his head and closed the door.
* * *
Thomas strode across the courtyard, avoiding the horse dung on the way, making straight for the barn. He needed to do something physical. For days on end he had sat in a coach all day long and barely moved even when they had stopped. He missed his early morning swims, his boxing training, even the exertion of vaulting on to the back of a horse and galloping through the countryside.
Inside the barn, once his eyes had adjusted to the dim light, Thomas saw exactly what he was looking for: somewhere to work up a sweat. The hay loft at one end of the barn was reached by a ladder, which had been fixed to the ground with large metal screws. The ladder was immovable and sturdy, and just the thing he could use to work out some of the tension he felt fighting to be released.
He walked round to the back of the ladder, reached above his head and gripped a rung. Slowly, his muscles protesting, he pulled himself up until his chin was level with the bar. His descent was controlled and steady, and Thomas found himself starting to relax.
No wonder he was tense, the situation with Rosa was enough to drive a man to despair. Still she was refusing him. He understood she was scared, he understood she’d been hurt and betrayed before, but he was offering her a way to save herself from complete ruin. Any other woman would be running to the altar before he could change his mind.
For a second he imagined her up in their room, slipping out of the dress she was wearing, turning to look at him over her shoulder with those big, brown eyes. He’d wanted to stay. When he’d suggested she change for dinner he’d wanted to sit back and watch her as she slowly undressed.
Thomas grunted as he pulled himself up again, trying to focus on the burn of his muscles rather than the picture of Rosa letting her dress pool around her ankles.
Of course he’d been tempted by women before, he could appreciate a curvaceous body or bright smile as much as the next man, but he had always strived to keep women he found attractive at a distance. Ever since he had vowed as a young man the Hunter family curse would stop with him Thomas had known he would have to exercise tight self-control. Just one slip, one night where he gave in to his desires and there was the chance of a child being conceived, a child that might be damned to live their life in fear of the insidious disease that robbed them of control of their muscles. No, he wasn’t going to risk that for a night of giving in to his desires.
So he had remained celibate. It had been harder at university, when all of his friends were off bedding women of the town, regaling each other with stories of their prowess in the bedchamber. Thomas had sat back on these occasions, affected a knowing smile, and infuriated his friends by not telling them anything. Of course that had earned him the reputation of being a consummate seducer, one who would keep a woman’s secret, and there was all sorts of speculation on who he’d had affairs with.
But now there was Rosa. Rosa with her dark eyes that conveyed warmth and laughter. Rosa with her soft, caramel skin. Rosa with the body he wanted to sweep up into his arms and lay on the bed, exploring with his hands, his lips, until they both collapsed with pleasure.
Thomas lowered himself back to the floor and paused to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Rosa was pretty and good-natured and yet had a steely quality to her that he admired greatly. Maybe it was only natural he felt this desire for her as they spent more time together. It wouldn’t be a problem if he was just delivering her back to England. He had managed to keep control of himself for many years, he could manage a few more weeks. No, the problem arose now he had decided to court her, to seduce her into marrying him. He wanted to kiss her, to run his hands over the curve of her waist, and it wasn’t just so she went along with his plan and agreed to marry him.
With a sharp exhalation Thomas reached for the rung of the ladder and resumed his pull ups. He would just have to be strong, to stay focused on why he was doing this and what he wanted to achieve. Rosa was no seasoned seductress, he should be able to resist her.
‘My, my, Lord Hunter, what a strong man you are.’
Thomas lowered himself to the floor before turning the quarter-circle to see who had entered the barn. Mrs Peterson smiled coyly as she walked towards him. There was something slightly predatory in her eyes and Thomas found himself moving a step to the left to keep the ladder between him and his friend’s wife.
‘I saw you enter the barn from my bedroom window and just had to come and find out what you were up to.’
‘Exercising.’
‘I can see that. So this is what it takes to maintain a physique like yours.’
Mrs Peterson had reached the ladder now and raised a hand, running her fingers over one of the wooden rungs. Thomas eyed her, trying hard to keep his expression neutral. She had been a quiet travelling companion, saying very little over the meals they had all shared, but nevertheless Thomas had felt her eyes burning into him on a number of occasions, noted the mischievous smile that flickered across her lips when she thought no one else was looking. Thomas knew exactly what sort of woman she was and he knew it would be wise to keep his distance.