by Micki Miller
Rose opened her mouth to say something, but then she appeared to change her mind on that, too. For a moment, they stood surrounded by silence and firelight. She caught him by complete surprise when she lunged toward him and stretched up to kiss him. Her arms wrapped around his neck. Burke kept his at his side. At his lack of response, Rose backed away.
“Am I…am I doing something wrong?”
“No,” he said, his taught body held still, his voice rough. “In fact, you’re doing everything exactly right.”
“I don’t understand. You…”
“I gave you my word I wouldn’t touch you unless you say different.”
Her smile grew in a slow revelation, lit by a mischievous glint in her eyes. At his return grin, she said, “Burke?”
“Yes?”
“I’m saying different.”
Burke spun around and strode to the door. He closed it tight and turned the lock. When he faced Rose again, he said on an exhale, “Thank the heavens.”
They met in the middle, lips merging, arms clasping around willing, wanting bodies. Buttons popped at the yanking of eager hands, fabric ripped, and a host silver gossamer flounces tore loose from their stitching. The scraps of fabric sailed an aimless drift until they joined the rest of their clothing in a chaotic heap upon the floor.
This was no slow seduction. This was desperate need. This was wild desire unleashed.
Once he’d relieved Rose of every bit of her clothing, Burke backed her to the settee, where he laid her down to stretch out before him. He lifted one of her knees so her bent leg rested against the cushioned back. He dragged her other leg until her shin dropped over the edge and her bare toes touched the floor. And then he took a step back for the sheer pleasure of gazing at her.
Firelight played upon her creamy skin. Her breasts rose and fell with her heavy breaths. The only thing more glorious than Rose in that temptress gown, was Rose bared to him so, naked, open, wanting.
Burke knelt beside her, taking her breast in his mouth, letting his hands go where they wanted, where she wanted.
The urgency tore through Rose like a thunderbolt. Gripping his strong shoulders, she yanked herself up to wrap her body around him. Burke shifted them as he sat upon the settee and positioned her atop his lap where she straddled him. He helped her, guided her, let her take what she wanted, and took all she wanted to give.
Chapter 22
Rose awoke in Burke’s bed to her own sleepy sigh of contentment. Her eyes opened as she rolled on her back. Burke stood a few feet from the bed, a virile, consummate male, wearing his trousers and shrugging into his shirt.
“Good morning,” he said, gazing down at her with a smile warmer than the bedsheets they’d heated throughout the night.
“Good morning.”
“You look lovely with your hair mussed, wearing nothing but my sheet.”
Rose smiled and rolled on her side to behold this man while he finished dressing. She gazed with no small degree of loss as each fastened button took from her the sight of dark hairs over hardened muscle.
She giggled a bit before saying, “I hardly even remember coming up here.”
“Neither to I,” he said, almost as giddy.
“Where are you off to so early?” she asked.
“Early? My dear, it is almost ten o’clock.”
“Ten o’clock!” Rose shouted, sitting up straight.
The sheet dropped to her waist. In an instant, she snatched it up to cover her nudity. Silly, really, after he’d seen and touched every inch of her throughout the night. In the morning’s light, however, her modesty had returned.
“Rose,” Burke said in a deep, breathy timbre. If you do that again, you’ll not leave this bed until ten o’clock tonight. Possibly not even then.”
Rose laughed and resisted the temptation to drop the sheet. “It’s no wonder I’m abed so late. I don’t think you let me sleep more than an hour last night.”
“What’s a man to do when he’s in the clutches of an insatiable woman?”
“Burke!”
“Mmm,” Burke said, pausing before he stuffed his feet into his boots. “I do love it when you shout my name.”
Rose gasped through her smile and leaned toward him with amused accusation. “You’re shameless.”
Burke chuckled. “You make me so. And eager. I’ve a feeling the servants will be finding silver flounces about the house for months.”
Rose slapped a hand to her mouth, and then giggled through her fingers.
Burke bent to press a kiss to her forehead. “I’m going to take a quick ride around the grounds, speak with the guards and such. Meet you for breakfast in, say, forty-five minutes?”
“Sounds perfect. I’m famished.”
“I must say, I’ve worked up a bit of an appetite myself.”
His gaze turned hungry as it lit on her bare shoulder. His hand floated over to allow his fingers a reverent touch of the soft skin on her neck, and then dragged down to where the sheet lay atop the sensuous swell of her breasts.
“Breakfast first, Burke.”
He sighed aloud, eliciting another giggle from her. “Very well. I suppose at some point one does need sustenance.”
Burke bent to her again, this time kissing her shoulder before pivoting away. He closed the door behind him.
Breakfast was a quiet affair, eaten over shared smiles both sensuous, and at times on her part, shy. Just the remembrance of the things they’d done last night heated a blush, as well as a rekindling.
It amazed her how freedom befell her in his bed. A mere touch of his hand formed her into a sensual woman. And with her own hands relishing the feel of his masculine body, she experienced the potent power of her femininity. She reveled in wielding it to bring him equal pleasure.
Rose set down her fork and stifled a yawn. Burke grinned without looking at her, causing her to face to heat again.
“I have some work to do in my study,” he said. “Why don’t you have a nap? We can take a short stroll outside this afternoon.”
“That sounds perfect.”
They stood and Burke walked her to the foot of the staircase where he kissed her with the promise of passions to come. Rose sensed his eyes upon her as she climbed the stairs. She glanced back. Yes, he was there, gazing at her with a heated grin that tempted her to run back down and jump into his arms.
Later she would revisit the pleasures she’d learned to give and take. Yes, she would. Rose spun around and floated down the corridor, as light as her lost flounces. In her room, she fell asleep almost as soon as she lay atop her bed.
****
Burke stared at the papers atop his desk, just as he’d done for the last twenty minutes. He shuffled a document or two. It didn’t matter. Wherever he focused his eyes, he only saw Rose. He was so infused with her, he could swear her sweet scent lingered about his head.
He pushed back from his desk. No, she needed to rest after the long night they’d shared. He scooted his chair back in again and made another attempt at reading a document. At the bottom of the page, he laughed out loud, as he had no idea what it was he’d just read.
“Sir?” Timmons said, poking his head into the study. The butler’s stare was wide as he made a quick scan of the room before directing his gaze toward his employer. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes, Timmons, of course it is. Why…” Ah, he didn’t need to ask Timmons why he thought anything was amiss. Thinking back, Burke could almost be sure enough to swear in a judicial proceeding his butler had never heard him laugh.
“Everything is fine,” he said to Timmons. He almost laughed again at the concerned expression on the man’s face.
“Can I bring you anything, my lord?”
“Thank you, Timmons, but not right now.”
The butler gave him a wary nod and a short pause before going about his business.
Burke shook his head and grinned. He dropped his attention back to his desk, determined to get through at least one document
before he went to Rose.
****
“Ow!” Rose shouted at the sharp sting in her arm. Her eyelids popped open and in an instant, she was focused on the figure standing over her.
“Shut up,” said the voice in an angry whisper. “I didn’t hurt you. I just wanted you to wake up. I don’t want to kill you in your sleep.”
Chapter 23
After setting his desk in order, Burke sauntered into the kitchen. Through the window he saw Claude, his new cook, picking at the herb garden. He looked forward to trying the man’s fare. Rose raved about the man’s cooking, swore he was the best. It’s a shame he couldn’t remember what he’d eaten last night. Sitting across from Rose in that dress, it was a miracle he remembered his own name.
From a bowl on the wood-block table, Burke chose a couple of apples to take up to Rose’s room. They would serve well for later, as his plan was to work up their appetites.
He stepped toward the main kitchen door which would take him to the corridor leading to the front of the house, and then stopped. The service hall led to the back stairs. That route would be quicker. He didn’t want to wait one second more than he had to before he held Rose in his arms again. If she still slept, he would lie beside her, and perhaps nap himself. And if she awoke when he slipped into her bed…Burke smiled as he rounded a corner.
The breeze against his face surprised him two seconds before the broken window. He reached it in three urgent strides. Glass crunched beneath his boots. His heart pounded an alarm in his head. This wasn’t an accident of one of the servants passing through. The window had been broken from the outside.
By the time the apples hit the floor, Burke was already at a full run.
Chapter 24
Rose slapped her hand against the cut on her arm at the same time she jolted up to a seated position on the bed.
A thin rivulet of blood seeped between her fingers. For several seconds, all she could do was stare in bewilderment at the crimson flow. Then, she raised wide eyes to the woman standing over her holding the long knife, the tip red with her blood.
“Lady Hortence? You…It…it was you all along.”
Prudence stepped back and flicked the knife. “Get up.”
With movements stunned into sluggishness, Rose dragged her legs around and stood beside the bed. She gaped at Prudence Hortence.
The elegant woman was now almost unrecognizable. Filth encrusted the many wrinkles of her gray, once fine, gown. Dirt smudged her face and caked her hands. Most of her hair had come loose from its pins and hung in tangled disarray. Her unwashed body produced an odor that permeated the room, emphasizing her crazed demeanor. The gleeful rage in her eyes was nothing short of savage.
“Why?” Rose asked.
Prudence sneered at her. “It wasn’t enough you had Lord Sennett for a husband, a man who couldn’t be brought up to scratch by the best of us. You had to have Burke, too?”
Ignoring her question which was more an accusation, Rose asked, “If you hate me so, if you wanted me out of your way, why kill Ashton? Why not kill me instead?”
“Killing you was my original plan,” Prudence said, sniffing and raising her dirt-smudged chin. “I missed and hit Lord Da Ville. That’s when the idea struck me. If I killed Lord Sennett instead of you, if I made it look like you’d committed the murder, Burke would turn from you, not mourn you. And you would know my suffering. You would know what it’s like to lose a man like him.”
For a moment, Prudence appeared as if she would break down in tears. Her bottom lip quivered. Her nostrils flared. But then her face lifted, as did her brows over a flash of pure insanity. “And,” Prudence said, snickering. “You would live out the rest of your days in Newgate, or maybe even hang.”
Prudence covered her mouth with her dirty hands, muffling a burst of laughter.
“How did you get her pistol?” Burke asked from the doorway.
Both women swung their gazes in his direction.
“Burke,” Prudence said. At first, warm hope softened her, and then her expression hardened.
Rose answered the question. “You stole it at the theatre, in the ladies retiring room. I set my reticule down to press a damp cloth to my face.”
To Rose, Prudence said, “I followed you in to get a look at you. When I saw your reticule sitting there, I thought to take your money, to cause some imperfection in your perfect little life. I took the pistol on a whim. It wasn’t until later that night I decided what I was going to do with it. The way Lords’ Da Ville and Sennett whisked me off to stargaze so you two could have a bit of privacy, you think I didn’t notice?”
Prudence cast disdain down her nose before rotating until she faced Burke. She kept the blade pointed at Rose while she spoke. “You discarded me for this little stick of a woman?” She then thrust out her bosom. “Tell me you don’t miss me.”
“This is over, Prudence,” Burke told her, holding out his hand. “Give me the knife.”
Prudence narrowed her eyes to a savage glare. Her lips twisted into a snarl. “It’s not over, not yet.”
Still pointing the knife at Rose, Prudence used her other hand to dig into the pocket of her skirt. When she removed her hand, she had a pistol clasped in a firm grip.
To Burke she said, “I wasn’t going to use this because I didn’t want to draw your attention. I guess it doesn’t matter now. I’ve lost you for good anyway. Pity,” Prudence said. Her face fell from the height of anger to the depths of a consuming sadness. “We could have been so good together.”
“Prudence, don’t do this,” Burke said.
Prudence glanced down at her gown, appearing to notice her condition for the first time. She drew in her arm holding the knife, inspecting the back of her hand, and then rotated her wrist to take in her dirty fingernails. Her anger returned, full force.
“I hate you, Burke Darington. Look what you’ve brought me to. You did this to me. I hate the both of you!” She pointed the pistol straight at Burke’s chest.
“Pru…”
Before he could say another word, Prudence dropped to the floor in a solid heap. Rose stood over the inert woman, her golden amber pig in her hand.
Chapter 25
“What will happen to her?” Rose asked.
Sitting beside her on the sofa downstairs in the blue parlor, Burke inspected the white bandage wrapped around her arm. He’d cut off the sleeve of her gown to tend to the cut inflicted by Prudence’s knife. Fortunately, the wound hadn’t needed stitching. Still, he fussed with the bandage, making sure it was tight enough, yet not too tight.
“My men are taking her back to London where they will turn her over to the constable,” Burke said. A wave of fury and fear washed through him, leaving a residue not soon to bear away. “I’ve also instructed them to notify Lord Da Ville as to who is responsible for Ashton’s murder.”
“Thank you for seeing to it that Lewis knows. I miss his friendship. Though, I don’t think it could ever be the same as it once was.”
“Lewis’s grief overwhelmed his knowledge that you would never harm Ashton. Emotions can send a person’s words and actions to the wrong. I know. Perhaps your friendship is not altogether lost.”
“I hope you’re right. Burke, my arm is fine.”
He didn’t cease his gentle ministrations. He stayed focused, his gaze intense, as if she’d sustained a serious injury, and her life was in his hands. Rose clasped onto his hand and squeezed until he raised his eyes to meet hers.
“It’s not that bad, Burke,” Rose said. “She only poked me with the knife so I would awake.”
“She should never have gotten so close to you. It’s my fault, as I should not have let you out of my sight for an instant. I didn’t do enough to protect you.”
“You saved my life, Burke,” she said.
A wry smile touched the corner of his lips. “I think it’s the other way around. If you remember right, I was about to take a ball to the chest. If it hadn’t been for you and your handy pig…”
Burke drew her into a fierce hug, careful of her injured arm.
Speaking into her ear, he said, “I’m never letting you go. Could you be happy here, spending your days in the country, reading, walking the land, and the nights loving me? Could you envision this life for yourself?”
“Oh, Burke, it sounds like heaven. But what about your business dealings?”
“We’ll go back to London, occasionally, but much of it I can handle from here. His face rested against hers and his smile rubbed her cheek. He said, “I’ll see the banns posted at once.”
She eased back then, her fingertips on his chest. “Burke, I can’t marry you.”
His joy dissipated as his hands came to rest upon his thighs.
“The scandal is fresh, and I’m newly widowed,” Rose said. “Society won’t let what’s happened pass without judgement.”
“They won’t touch us out here. Besides, when have either of us cared to be a part of that crowd?”
“Your business dealings—”
“Will be fine. I’ve explained all this to you before.”
“And the foundling home. I can’t abandon the children. I have to go back. With Ashton gone, and the committee disbanded—”
“I haven’t forgotten them, Rose. Most of the funds were already in the foundling home account. I’m more than happy to make up for any shortages. The building will be erected, and soon. I’ve already commissioned a draftsman.”
“You have?”
“And I’ve informed him he’ll be working with you on the plans,” Burke said. “With Ashton gone, you are to head the committee, even if the committee now consists of just the two of us. The new home will be built, Rose.”
Rose lit up like daybreak after a long, dark night. She was his daybreak.
Most men would never permit their wives to work so. But he was not most men, and Rose was not most women. He would be a fool to try and change her.