by Meara Platt
“The footpaths will take much longer than an hour or two to dry out.” She shook her head again. “That’s it? Will you say nothing more to me?”
He shrugged. “We can’t stay here, Rose. And we can’t take the high road. The local villagers will see us.” He eyed her up and down. “One look at you and they’ll know that you sacrificed your virtue in the hope of trapping me into marriage.”
“How dare you!” She glanced around the kitchen, no doubt looking for objects to hurl at him. “Is this all you have to say to me? That my wanton behavior is now branded on my face for the rest of the world to snicker at? Did last night mean nothing at all to you? Was it merely a frolic to ease your boredom?”
Hell, last night had meant everything to him. “I wasn’t bored. I had a good time, I readily admit it. But I’d gone through half of that bottle of whiskey and you ought to have known better than to—”
She gasped. “Are you blaming me?”
“Hell, Rose. There’s blame enough to spread everywhere.”
“You are blaming me,” she said, once more incredulous. “So you think you’re excused because you were drunk, but I was sober and therefore should be the one to suffer the consequences. Is that it? You must realize that being alone with you, no matter your condition, has left me hopelessly compromised.”
“Not hopeless. No one has seen you, and…” He paused meaningfully, ready to duck the moment she tossed a frying pan at his head. “We didn’t… you’re still a virgin. I didn’t take complete leave of my senses.”
“Thank goodness for that.” She spoke with such an ache to her voice that he knew he’d mercilessly trampled her heart. Hell, blast, and damn. He couldn’t bear hurting her, even if she did lie to him.
In truth, it was a ridiculously foolish and dangerous scheme that she and his family had concocted, but she’d confessed her part in it. He could see the relief in her eyes as she unburdened herself, for the girl was not a practiced liar and her remorse was obvious. Just as she saw the essence of a person through her artist’s eye, he had the same ability to tell a person’s character through his soldier’s instincts. Rose, this misguided foolishness aside, had a generous and honest heart. He hated having to trample it. “You are a virgin, aren’t you? Or should I say that I’ve left you in the same condition as you were before this night?”
Her gasp was filled with pain. “Right, I’m still a virgin despite my best efforts—perhaps no effort at all on my part to protect my virtue,” she amended. “I allowed you to take advantage. I’m such a fool, but I wanted to feel your arms around me and your lips on mine. I knew I’d melt when you kissed me. I did melt.” More heat shot into her cheeks as she spoke.
“Rose, I—”
“Please don’t say another word. I suppose my behavior must seem awful, but I never meant to trap you into marriage. I would never do such a thing. Truly. I understand that you can’t forgive me. I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself.”
He nodded, knowing this is what he’d wanted and stayed quiet. But the long moment of silence between them played havoc with his resolve and almost destroyed it. He took a deep breath and held firm, knowing the only thing that would be destroyed this morning were Rose’s beautiful memories of last night.
Once Valentina and her cohorts were arrested, he’d make amends with Rose. One more week, perhaps two, until Prinny issued the orders to round them up. “Do what you need to get ready. Are you hungry? I think there’s still some cheese and bread left from last night. I’ll set it out for us.”
She shook her head. “Tend to yourself. I can manage on my own.”
He sighed. “You’ll need help fastening your gown. And pinning up your hair. I’ll put the kettle on for tea. We have a long walk ahead of us. I know a little about long marches under a hot sun. You’ll never make it on an empty stomach or without water to drink. I’ll pour out the last of the whiskey and fill the bottle with water. We’ll walk in the shade as much as possible and stop to rest whenever you feel dizzy.”
Her eyes rounded in surprise. Did she think he’d be an utter ogre? She pursed her lips and hastily turned away. “I’m used to taking long walks in Coniston. You needn’t concern yourself with me. I’ll put on the kettle.”
But her fussing and the clang of the kettle as she noisily attended to it could not hide the sound of her sniffles. “Rose…”
He crossed the kitchen to reach her side.
She pushed him away. “Set out the bread and cheese. I don’t need your help.”
“You’re crying.”
“No.” But she was still sniffling and her shoulders were rising and falling as she shed silent tears. “Yes, perhaps so. But it’s no concern of yours.”
Wordlessly, he took her into his arms.
She ached too badly to fight him off; he could tell by the way she slumped against him, her beautiful body curled in defeat. “I’m so sorry I plotted against you. I’m sorry I didn’t do more to prevent your abduction, but I’m not sorry about kissing you or the rest of it. I thought last night was magical,” she said with a sob.
He sighed and stroked her hair. “It was, Rose. Don’t let me or anyone else tell you otherwise.”
CHAPTER 11
“ROLF! THERE YOU are!” Nicola called out from the earl’s carriage the moment it drew to a halt beside the copse of trees where she and Julian were hiding. They’d been forced to walk closer to the main road than planned because most of the wooded footpaths were either flooded or too muddy, just as she had predicted.
“Nicola! Thank goodness!” Rose eased away from Julian to run toward the carriage, her relief at being found quite sincere, for she and Julian had been walking for over three hours, much of the time buried up to their ankles in mire and thorny brambles that slowed their progress to a crawl.
They were still another three hours on foot from Darnley Cottage and despite her assurances to Julian that she was fine, the truth was that she was exhausted and sad and humiliated enough to crawl into bed and hide for the rest of the summer. Whatever hold Valentina had over Julian was still firmly in place. The misguided plot Julian’s family had contrived had failed, except that she was now ruined for any other man, not because Julian had touched her or because they’d been alone overnight, but because she’d fallen in love with him.
Hopelessly in love.
He would never reciprocate, not after what she’d done to him.
Nicola swung open the carriage door. “You poor thing! How’s your ankle?”
“It’s held up just fine.” In truth, it hurt like blazes and felt swollen, but she wasn’t about to admit it within Julian’s earshot. The effort of slogging through the flooded woods had left her spent and she had simply refused to ask Julian for help or accept it when he offered, something he had done with irritating constancy.
One would almost think he cared.
She knew that he didn’t. Love might conquer all, but not for her and Julian. She’d gotten her moment of magic last night, but with the morning sun came a painful clarity. He could never love a liar, even a well-intentioned one such as her.
She had to get Julian out of her heart.
Could she?
Being with him these past few hours had been a torment, especially agonizing each time he lifted her into his arms to carry her across a particularly bad stretch of stagnant, dirty water that had yet to dissipate under the hot sun. His arms were perfect and she was meant to be held in them.
She ought to have been glad Nicola had rescued them. Now if they were seen, no one would think anything of her and Nicola going out for a carriage ride with her brother. Perhaps an eyebrow would wag for their lack of an elderly chaperone, but no horrific scandal would erupt.
Rose paused to wipe her mud-stained shoes before climbing into the carriage, but Nicola waved her in. “Don’t worry about that. I’m so glad I found you! I went to the lodge first, but you were already gone. I’ve packed up the belongings you left behind and stowed them in the carriage.”
“Good,” Julian muttered from behind her. “Saves me a trip back to clean up the mess you created.”
Nicola swallowed hard. “We’ve been creeping along this road for hours hoping to find the two of you. I’m so sorry for what we did to you, Rose.”
Julian came to Rose’s side, his large hands on her waist as he effortlessly lifted her inside, and then climbed in after her, taking the empty bench across from her and Nicola. “You damn well ought to be,” he said, settling against the leather squabs and glowering at his sister. “Are you demented? Leaving Rose behind with me? Anything might have happened, none of it good.”
His sister looked suitably contrite. “Did it?”
“No,” she and Julian shouted at the same time, their protestations only confirming that something had indeed occurred. Rose felt her cheeks burning.
Julian cast her an exasperated glance. “No, nothing happened,” he said more gently. “But something will the moment we reach the cottage.”
Nicola’s eyes brightened. “Really?”
Julian groaned. “Yes, I’m going to take you to the woodshed and give you the long overdue thrashing you heartily deserve. I’d do the same to our aunt and uncle if they weren’t so old and fragile. Where are they now? Still at the cottage, or have they run off to hide from my wrath?”
“Oh, I thought you meant something good was going to happen between the two of you. Honestly, Julian. You needn’t thrash me or any of us. We’re all terribly ashamed of what we’ve done.” She sighed and took Rose’s hand in hers. “My uncle and aunt are at the cottage waiting to offer you their sincere apology. We should not have dragged you into this family matter, but we were certain that you cared for Julian and believed he was growing to care for you. It isn’t your fault that my brother is the greatest idiot who ever lived.”
Julian growled to mark his displeasure. “Definitely the woodshed, Nicola.”
Rose drew her hand away. “I’m not ready to forgive either of you just yet.”
Julian emitted a bark of laughter. “You? I’m the injured party in this scheme. You two are the conspirators.” He raised his gaze heavenward. “My entire damn family conspiring against me.”
“You brought it on yourself,” Nicola retorted. “Do you think we enjoyed doing this to you?”
Julian leaned forward, his brow furrowed in obvious anger. “I don’t care what you think. I don’t care what anyone thinks. I’m never speaking to any of you savages again. Indeed, I’m cutting off all ties with every last one of you.”
Rose gasped. “You can’t mean to abandon the children.”
His frown deepened. “Keep out of this, Rose. You and Nicola have done quite enough.”
“I don’t deny it. But it doesn’t make your hurting little Emily or Kendra or the boys acceptable, just because Nicola and I were in the wrong.” Her heart felt heavy and her eyes were once more turning watery, for she truly adored Julian’s family, all of them, and wanted to patch things up with them. She was angry with Nicola for putting her in an unthinkably scandalous situation, but she still loved her. They were best friends. “Nicola meant well.”
“Hah!” He rolled his eyes. “Did she mean well when leaving you with me overnight?”
“Yes, I did,” Nicola insisted. “Rolf loves you.”
“Stop calling her that. Her name is Rose. She lied and schemed and I’m supposed to believe she did it all for love?”
“Yes.” Nicola scowled at him. “And if you had any brains, you’d love her back. And even though you appear to have no brains, you do have an ingrained sense of honor. I knew you would have accepted to marry Rolf had you been discovered, so there was little real danger to her. No harm done. And hopefully she will understand my motives and forgive me in time, even if you never do.” Nicola turned to her, looking as though she were about to cry. “You must, Rolf. I couldn’t bear it if we were no longer friends.”
Julian snorted. “You ought to have considered that before you drugged her. Or me.”
They rode in silence much of the way to the cottage, that silence occasionally broken by Nicola’s attempts at contrition. “I’ll have refreshments and a warm bath brought up to you, Rolf. Whatever you desire. You have only to ask. You, too, Julian.”
“Don’t bother about me,” he said with a grunt, scratching the stubble of beard that had grown overnight. “See to Rose’s comfort. I’ll be off for London within the hour.”
Nicola blinked. “What?”
“You heard me. Your disastrous plan has failed. I’m returning to London today.” He leaned forward and cast both of them a warning glower. “You’re to remain here for the rest of the week. Rose, too.” He then turned his gaze solely on Rose, cupping her chin in his hand and gently forcing her to look at him even though she wanted to turn away. “You must stay here. I don’t ask this of you lightly because I know how uncomfortable it will be for you, but I want you to remain at the cottage until I return to escort you home.”
Rose slapped his hand away. “And when will that be? You can’t possibly expect me to stay here with your family. How will I face them every day? After what they’ve done to me?”
He nodded and ran a hand roughly through his hair. “I know I’m not being fair to you, but it can’t be helped. I’m sorry, Rose. I will not allow you to contradict me in this. I’ll collect you next week. Or soon after. I promise. I can’t return for you any earlier.”
“What rubbish! I’ll write to my parents,” she said in exasperation, for why should he care what happened to her next? He was running back to Valentina. “My father will come for me. I’ll make up some reasonable excuse.”
“We’ll all return,” Nicola interjected, trying to be helpful. “No one will doubt us if we tell them the cottage suffered damage during the storm and requires immediate repairs that can’t be completed while we’re in residence.”
“That isn’t the point.” Julian leaned forward, now noticeably angry. “Haven’t you meddled enough, Nicola? I want the two of you out of the way until I come for you. I don’t want you anywhere near London. How much clearer can I be?”
Rose put a hand on Nicola’s shoulder when she appeared ready to continue the battle. “It’s all right. I’ll stay.”
Nicola eyed her curiously. “You will?”
Julian drew back, his gaze never leaving her face. “You will?”
“Yes.” She wasn’t certain why she suddenly trusted him, but his cruel behavior this morning now made perfect sense. He was planning something dangerous and didn’t want her underfoot. She wasn’t usually this dense or stupid, but neither was she familiar with relations between men and women, having never had any relations whatsoever with any man until Julian.
His response to her last night had been real, only he couldn’t admit it to her yet. More important, she had to go with her instincts about his supposed relation with Valentina. His feigned adoration for the countess was just that… feigned.
Nicola, obviously not thinking beyond their friendship, threw her arms around Rose and hugged her fiercely. “Thank you, Rolf. I’m so glad you’ll stay. I’ll make amends. We all will. You’ll see. I’ll be the best friend to you… and I promise never to embroil you in anything so foolish again.”
“At least for another week,” Rose teased, hugging her back. She was still angry, but had always been terrible at holding grudges. Nicola and her family had done an awful thing to her, thinking to force Julian into marrying her instead of Valentina. But their hoped-for outcome wasn’t so awful. They understood Julian’s sense of honor and thought he would marry her.
Perhaps he would have, but she didn’t want him to offer marriage out of necessity, only out of love. She wouldn’t accept him any other way.
Did he love her? Last night it had felt as though he did, but men were good at faking such things. Loving her wasn’t quite the same thing as wanting to bed her. She knew he’d wanted to do that. No, indeed. Lust wasn’t at all the same thing as love.
But neither did he love V
alentina. Had his family truly understood Julian, they would have seen into his heart and known he could never willingly choose someone like Valentina as his wife.
Rose squeezed her eyes shut and continued to hug Nicola, who was still openly sobbing tears of relief and contrition on her shoulder and giving it a thorough soaking. “All will be well, Nicola. You’ll see.”
Indeed, she and Nicola would repair their friendship. Julian would return to London and do whatever he needed to do concerning Valentina. Just not marry her. Please don’t marry Valentina.
That was the greatest danger, that he would somehow be forced into an unwanted marriage with the countess to rescue… a friend? She still didn’t know any of the specifics.
She’d have to trust that Julian knew what he was doing.
And trust that he’d overlook her lies and schemes and forgive her.
And trust that he’d somehow fall in love with her even though she’d given him no reason to do so.
Her heart sank, for it all seemed so hopeless.
Julian eased back in his seat as the carriage rattled toward Darnley Cottage. He wanted to grab Rose and kiss her soundly on the lips, for he’d noticed the precise moment when understanding had dawned upon her. She’d finally seen through his charade and appeared to trust him to do whatever necessary while in London even though she had no idea what it was that he needed to do.
Did she understand how much he truly cared for her?
Last night had been anything but a mere frolic for him. She’d called it magical. Indeed, it had been because she’d made it so, even for someone as experienced and cynical as he.
She trusted him.
But for how long? Trust had to be earned, and all the news she might hear this coming week would send her reeling. In truth, the news could get much worse before it got better. “Nicola, you’ll crush her if you continue to squeeze her so hard.”