A Ring for the Pregnant Debutante

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A Ring for the Pregnant Debutante Page 12

by Laura Martin


  ‘I suppose you deserve to know,’ Rosa said.

  He didn’t, no one needed to know what had gone on between them, but Thomas didn’t stop her. He wondered if that made him a bad person.

  ‘We arranged a rendezvous one night. I thought David meant to propose. He hadn’t approached my father, but I fooled myself into thinking we were far too modern, far too independent for that.’

  Thomas could imagine Rosa creeping out, certain she was going to meet the man of her dreams, the Prince Charming young girls were conditioned to hope for.

  ‘He let me in the kitchen door and kissed me immediately. I could tell there was something different about him, something that I hadn’t sensed before.’ She shifted in bed, letting the sheets fall a little, but Thomas could see she still clutched them tightly with her fingers. As she tried to speak again her voice caught in her throat and he realised he couldn’t let her go on. He might want to hear it, might want to know what she had been through so he could better judge what advances she would respond to now, but he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he made her speak of something she didn’t want to relive.

  ‘Shhh,’ he said, rising for his chair and taking the two short paces to the bed. He sat down beside her and took her hand in his own. ‘You don’t have to tell me anything, not if you don’t want to.’

  She looked at him, eyes wide and frightened, and her lips parted a little. In that instant Thomas knew he had to kiss her. He wanted to fold her in his arms and never let go, but more than that he wanted to kiss her soft lips, hear her moans as he trailed his fingers across her skin.

  ‘Inappropriate,’ he murmured. This was not the right moment to start acting on his lust for Rosa.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I can imagine what he did to you, Rosa. And I don’t want you to have to think about it again, not for my benefit. If you wish to talk about it then please do, but if you don’t then that is your choice as well.’

  ‘He didn’t force me. Not exactly.’

  The not exactly almost broke his heart. The scoundrel had forced himself upon her and then made Rosa feel as though she was the one who’d done wrong.

  ‘Rosa, you are a well-bred young woman, seduced by an older and trusted man. Even without anything else that is a wrongdoing on his part.’

  ‘He gave me a ring,’ Rosa said. ‘But he never actually said the words, never asked me to marry him.’ She closed her eyes and Thomas could see the blood draining slowly from her face at the memory. ‘Somehow he manoeuvred me up against the wall and all of a sudden his hands were under my skirts.’ She swallowed and Thomas realised he was holding his breath as she spoke. It was devastating to listen to Rosa’s ordeal, to see how much she blamed herself for this scoundrel’s actions. ‘I said no, asked him to stop, but he just ignored me.’

  Suppressing the rage he felt for this David, Thomas tried to concentrate on what Rosa was saying instead of the burning fury at how she had been treated.

  ‘But I didn’t scream,’ Rosa said softly. ‘I could have woken that whole household up, put a stop to what David was doing in that way, and I didn’t.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean what he did was acceptable,’ Thomas said. ‘He forced you, even if you didn’t shout out for help.’

  ‘I thought he loved me.’ She said it quietly, as if ashamed she had been fooled so easily.

  ‘I’m sure that was his plan, to make you think he loved you.’

  ‘I used to think girls who were seduced by men who had no intention of marrying them such fools.’

  ‘Not fools. You see the good in people, Rosa. It is a wonderful attribute, but sometimes it means you get hurt.’

  ‘Sometimes I still feel his hands on me, his breath on my neck.’

  Thomas closed his eyes for just a second, trying to master the wave of anger that crashed over him. If he ever met this David it would take all of his substantial self-control not to beat the man to a pulp. No one should have to live in such fear.

  He looked at Rosa, studying her features, the expressions that flitted across her face. Right now he had to put his own agenda aside. Tomorrow he could re-evaluate the best way to get her to agree to marry him, but tonight he would put her first.

  ‘You’re safe now, Rosa,’ he said, squeezing her hand. ‘And I promise to protect you all the time you remain with me.’

  She looked at him, a half-smile playing on her lips.

  ‘If I agree to be your wife?’

  ‘Whether you agree to be my wife or not.’

  They sat in silence for a few minutes, then slowly Rosa allowed her head to sink down to Thomas’s shoulder. He listened to her breathing, watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. For a long while he could tell she wasn’t asleep, but didn’t want to shatter the peace by talking any more.

  It was strangely comforting to feel the weight of her head on his shoulder. For so long he had made it an aim in life to push everyone else away, that way no one else would suffer if he became ill, but he was slowly realising that in doing so he was missing out on something important. The closeness that had blossomed between him and Rosa over the last few weeks was more than anything he’d experienced in years. Not since university had he encouraged friendships and never had he actually wanted to sit and talk to someone as he did with Rosa. Maybe he should just tell her the awful truth about his family, maybe it would be cathartic to be honest with someone he cared about.

  As soon as the idea had occurred to him he dismissed it. Anyone in their right mind would run away screaming if they knew what possible fate would befall them if they tied themselves to him. Years of watching his mind and body decline, the worry about him fathering any children and their possible fate. No, it would be better to stick to his plan—to secure a companion for his mother, a healthy heir for the estate and then distance himself from everyone who cared about him to save them the pain later on.

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‘Venice is such a smelly city,’ Mrs Peterson said, waving a dismissive hand out of the carriage window.

  ‘You’ve been before?’ Rosa asked, trying to keep the irritation from her voice.

  ‘No, but everyone says so.’

  Rosa managed to restrain herself from rolling her eyes and leaned forward further to try to catch all of the sights of the city they were entering.

  ‘I think it sounds fascinating. A city built on water.’

  ‘If you like that sort of thing.’

  ‘I do,’ Rosa said, a little more abruptly than she’d meant to. Six hours she’d been cooped up in the carriage with the annoying woman and her patience was starting to wear thin.

  ‘So tell me,’ Mrs Peterson said, a sly look crossing her face, ‘what is the enigmatic Lord Hunter really like?’

  Rosa sat back and regarded her companion warily. Over the last few days she’d noticed the sidelong looks, the fluttering of her eyelashes, the pouting lips and seductive smiles Mrs Peterson employed whenever Thomas was around. She didn’t flirt overtly, not enough for poor Mr Peterson to complain, but Rosa had noticed how she changed when Thomas was close.

  At first she’d felt some unexpected pangs of jealousy. Thomas wasn’t hers to be jealous about, not really, but when Mrs Peterson stroked his arm or tilted her face up so the sun made her eyes sparkle Rosa had felt jealous all the same. As time had gone on and Thomas had not reacted even slightly to Mrs Peterson’s flirtations Rosa had started to find the other woman’s behaviour a little amusing.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well is he a kind husband? Is he a bore? Is he wild in the bedroom? Come, Lady Hunter, we’re friends and this is what friends talk about.’

  The carriage was beginning to slow and Rosa wondered if she could delay enough to avoid having to answer any of Mrs Peterson’s questions, but as the silence dragged out Rosa sighed and
started talking.

  ‘He is kind, the kindest man I’ve ever known. Generous, too, although he will not accept thanks for his generosity. He holds everyone to very exacting standards, most especially himself, and I don’t think anyone could describe him as a bore.’

  ‘You’re ignoring one of my questions, Lady Hunter,’ Mrs Peterson teased. ‘Perhaps I am to assume therefore Lord Hunter is only mediocre in the bedroom.’

  ‘Assume what you will, Mrs Peterson, but Lord Hunter is not mediocre at anything he turns his hand to.’ Rosa said it without blushing, trying to hide her smile as Mrs Peterson’s eyes widened.

  ‘You mean...’

  ‘Ladies,’ Thomas said, throwing the carriage door open. ‘Welcome to Venice.’

  Rosa almost leapt into Thomas’s arms she was so eager to escape the carriage. She regretted assuring Thomas she would be perfectly happy if he chose to ride into the city, he’d been such an attentive travelling companion sitting in the carriage with her day after day that he deserved one morning of freedom. What she hadn’t been prepared for was Mrs Peterson’s insistence she travel with her instead.

  ‘Smelly,’ Mrs Peterson said, nodding her head in satisfaction.

  Rosa looked around her in awe. Although she had caught glimpses of the city on their journey through the outskirts, nothing had prepared her for this. Traders shouted in rapid Italian, enticing customers to buy their wares. Immaculately presented men strolled through the streets, calling words of greeting to the beautifully dressed women regarding the world below from their stone balconies. To one side the canal heaved with small boats, transporting passengers and goods, the men in charge of navigating the small waterways shouting and gesticulating as they bumped and scraped their way towards their destinations.

  ‘Magnificent, isn’t it?’ Thomas whispered in her ear. ‘I think Venice is my favourite city in the entire world.’

  She could see why. Everywhere she looked there was life and vitality. Most people looked happy, and the ones that didn’t were not afraid to show their emotions, gesticulating wildly and venting their anger or irritation.

  ‘I’m sure our lodgings will have rooms available,’ Mr Peterson said, dismounting his horse and taking his wife by the arm, guiding her out of the way of a young woman carrying a basket full of fresh fish.

  Rosa held her breath. She wanted Thomas to refuse, for their party to split and to go back to it just being her and him. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the Petersons, or at least she liked Mr Peterson well enough, but she craved the private moments she’d shared with Thomas at his villa and on the first half of their journey.

  ‘I’m afraid this is where we must say our goodbyes,’ Thomas said, clasping his old friend by the hand. ‘I have an apartment prepared for the night and tomorrow we seek passage to England.’

  ‘Surely not, Lord Hunter. You must dine with us one last time at the very least.’

  ‘It has been a pleasure, Mrs Peterson, but tonight I must insist my wife rests before we continue our arduous journey.’

  Rosa watched the other woman pout and felt Thomas slip his arm around her waist, almost possessively.

  ‘Can we not tempt you to join us, while Lady Hunter rests?’

  ‘Hush, my dear, leave the poor chap alone. We have intruded on their company for far too long, Lord and Lady Hunter will be wanting some time together.’ Mr Peterson smiled apologetically and for an instant Rosa felt sorry for this sweet man who knew all too well his wife was flirting with his old friend.

  ‘Look after him,’ Mr Peterson said as he kissed Rosa’s hand.

  She frowned, surprised by the comment. If ever there was anyone who didn’t need looking after it was Thomas. He was so strong, so capable.

  They finished their goodbyes and watched the Petersons disappear into the crowd. Thomas spent a few minutes arranging for the groom they had hired to find a stable for the horses before he was back at her side.

  ‘An apartment?’ Rosa asked as he took her by the arm.

  ‘Unless you’d rather spend the night with the Petersons?’

  She swatted him lightly on the shoulder.

  ‘It is the apartment of a friend. He is currently out of the country and has kindly offered me the use of it whenever I’m in town.’

  ‘How very convenient.’

  ‘Wait until you see it, my dear.’

  Rosa felt herself almost skipping along she felt so light and happy. She had Thomas back to herself, they were in a city she had always dreamed about visiting and the Di Mercurios had been left far behind them.

  Thomas led her through the maze of streets, over crumbling stone bridges, across quaint little squares. The entire city was moving and alive, and Rosa felt its vitality energising her as they walked.

  * * *

  After fifteen minutes they stopped outside a plain building with a thick wooden door. Thomas knocked and greeted the short, swarthy man who opened the door like a long-lost friend.

  ‘The rooms we’re staying in are upstairs.’ Thomas grinned, indicating the sweeping staircase. Before Rosa could react he lifted her into his arms and took the stairs two at a time, following the Italian man up the three flights.

  Thomas didn’t set her down until they were over the threshold of the most beautiful room Rosa had ever been in. Light filtered in through shuttered windows, which when opened revealed a sumptuous sitting room. Silks and satins covered almost every surface and the floor was layered with thick rugs. A chandelier fit for the grandest ballroom hung from the ceiling and delicate glass lamps filled every recess.

  ‘Do you like it?’ Thomas asked.

  ‘It’s fit for royalty.’

  Thomas grasped her hand and pulled her from room to room, showing her the beds laden with dozens of pillows, a room dedicated solely to bathing and finished with the highlight of the entire residence: the balcony. Out here they had a view over one of the canals. Far below them the boats skimmed across the water, the boatmen shouting at each other in rapid Italian as they passed. Over the rooftops Rosa could make out the tips of churches and bell towers, and far beyond the shimmering of the lagoon.

  ‘Rosa,’ Thomas said, his voice low and serious. ‘Marry me.’

  For an instant she almost agreed. It was a heady combination: a romantic spot and a man she adored asking to tie them together for eternity. She wavered. Still he would not tell her the true reason for his proposal, still she sensed he was holding something back, but as time went on and she found herself falling for the man asking her to marry him Rosa wondered how much that actually mattered. He was offering her a respectable future for her and her child. She knew he was a good man, a man who would never purposefully hurt her, so maybe it didn’t matter if he couldn’t open up to her fully just yet. There would be time for that when they were married.

  ‘Marry me,’ he repeated, looking deep into her eyes.

  ‘Thomas...’ she began, but before an answer could form on her lips his mouth was on hers. He kissed her hungrily, as if he’d been waiting for an eternity to kiss her, to taste her. Rosa felt all her protestations die in that moment as his lips met hers.

  She stiffened slightly as his hands came up and encircled her back, but then as her body realised it was Thomas kissing her, Thomas holding her, she relaxed. Rosa felt his fingers stroking across her skin even through the cotton of her dress and moaned softly. For weeks she had been dreaming of this moment, craving Thomas’s kiss, his touch. Now it was a reality and it was so much better than she’d ever imagined.

  His lips danced across the angle of her jaw down on to her neck and Rosa shivered as his breath tickled her skin. A warm glow was building from deep inside her and Rosa felt pure joy as Thomas pulled her even closer to him, whispering her name. No matter what he was hiding from her, this couldn’t be faked. He desired her, she’d seen it in his eyes before,
just as she desired him.

  ‘Marry me, Rosa,’ he murmured into her ear, taking her lobe gently between his teeth as he waited for her answer.

  ‘Yes,’ she managed to utter, groaning in protest as Thomas pulled away to study her.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll marry you.’

  Rosa saw the triumphant look for a second before his lips were back on hers, more frenzied, more passionate even than a few minutes ago. She felt his body press against hers, felt the evidence of his desire as he held her close to him.

  ‘Say it again,’ he whispered, as he ran his hands down her back, resting them tantalisingly just above her buttocks.

  ‘I will marry you,’ she repeated, loving the fire that was burning in his eyes for her. She’d never imagined wanting another man after David, but Thomas made her feel as though that was all just a bad dream.

  He kissed her one more time, before reluctantly pulling away, holding on to the stone balustrade as if to steady himself.

  ‘Then we have a wedding to organise.’

  Rosa wanted to protest, to ask him what the hurry was. She wanted him to scoop her up in his arms and carry her through to one of the luxurious beds and kiss her until she begged for mercy, but something stopped her. She’d never been shy before, never doubted that men might find her attractive. She’d not been conceited enough to think herself the belle of the debutantes, but she knew she had a pretty enough face and no major flaws, but that had been before she was five months pregnant. Now she felt cumbersome and swollen, and wondered that Thomas felt anything resembling desire for her at all. She didn’t want to push him, only to be rejected, despite the fire she saw in his eyes.

  ‘You rest, my dear. I will return later with everything organised.’

  And without another word he left the room. Rosa remained where she was long after the door had closed behind him, uncertain of what had just occurred. She’d just agreed to marry him and then he’d as good as fled from her presence. Despite this being her first engagement Rosa was pretty sure that wasn’t how things were meant to happen.

 

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