by Meara Platt
Rose did not appreciate being called daft, but she’d gotten some useful information out of Julian at last. “So this latest bit of mischief was her doing?”
“I can’t say.”
“Can’t or won’t? But you don’t love her. Please tell me that you don’t.”
His gaze turned tender. “What do you think?”
She resumed lightly wiping the blood off his arm. “I can only say what I wish, and that is to fervently hope you don’t love her.” His lips tipped up at the corners in the hint of a smile. It was all the encouragement she needed to continue, although a wiser girl might not have spoken at all. Keeping one’s mouth shut was never a Farthingale strength. In any event, she wanted Julian to know what was in her heart. “I’ve fallen in love with you,” she said in a whisper. “I love you with my whole heart.”
She paused to give him the opportunity to respond in kind, but he didn’t say a word. Indeed, he looked stricken.
That wasn’t promising at all.
“You don’t have to love me,” she continued, her heart sinking as he remained silent. “In truth, I don’t expect that you do, nor do I expect you ever to entertain the notion of marrying me after all the trouble I’ve caused you. I’m sincerely sorry for that. However, I wish that you might one day change your mind. The point is, loving me isn’t nearly as important as your not loving her.”
His lips slowly turned upward at the corners once more in an almost smile. “Are you quite through pouring out your heart to me?”
She nodded. “I could go on, but it would only be a repetition of what I just said. Unfortunately, we Farthingales tend to run on at the mouth when we’re uncomfortable and this admission has made me most uncomfortable. Awkward, really. Quite humiliating, truth be told. Especially if you don’t reciprocate my feelings.”
She licked her lips. “And I suspect you do not. You’ve made it painfully obvious by the look of shock on your face. You have a very handsome face.” Groan. “Just order me to stop talking and I will. I can’t seem to stop on my own. But you’re a viscount and—”
He kissed her on the lips with exquisite urgency, his hand lightly poised on the back of her head to ease her closer and keep her from backing away, as if she would ever do that. She never would, for she ached to be in his arms and hungered for his kisses, eager to accept as many as he was willing to bestow on her.
She loved the possessive warmth of his mouth against hers, loved his heat and coiled tension. His kisses were never prim. There was always an undercurrent of danger, as though he were a beast on a fragile tether that might break at any moment and unleash his wild passion.
He appeared about to intensify the kiss when he suddenly eased away with a soft, laughing moan. “Bloody bad timing. We have an audience.”
“What?” She followed his gaze and found Lady Darnley standing by the kitchen door, her mouth agape.
Rose drew away with a start, almost tumbling off her stool. She would have fallen if Julian hadn’t caught her by the waist to steady her. It escaped no one’s notice that he did not release her once she’d steadied. She tried to pass along a silent hint that he ought to let her go, first gazing at his arm that circled her waist and then discreetly gazing up at him in silent pleading not to make matters worse. All she managed to do was make herself dizzy by shifting her eyeballs rapidly back and forth, a gesture that he was clearly ignoring.
He grinned at her. One of those conquering warrior, smug sort of grins that she would have found irritating if he weren’t every bit as brave and handsome as that grin conveyed. “I ought to go,” she said in rush, now thoroughly humiliated.
“Stay, Rose.” Julian continued to hold her by the waist, his grasp gentle even though she was halfheartedly struggling to break free. “I don’t want you out of my sight.”
She would have been elated had he made the request because he loved her, but it was a command given merely in order to protect her. He’d kissed her to shut her up. He wasn’t besotted by her beauty. In truth, he was frowning at her again.
How could he kiss her like that and still not love her?
She really needed to talk to her sisters, for she was utterly confused about men. Not that any of her sisters were any wiser, but perhaps together they might figure out whether Julian loved her or was simply keeping her close because he felt responsible for her.
Were men able to pour heart and soul into a kiss and not mean it? Was every man a base creature capable of taking advantage of a girl who’d just admitted that she loved him? “I wish to return to my room. I’m only in the way here.” She finally squirmed out of Julian’s grasp.
Lady Darnley gave her a pitying smile. “My dear,” she said gently, “I think you and I must have a talk.”
Rose blushed. “No lecture required, Lady Darnley. You can’t possibly berate me more than I’m berating myself. The fault is mine completely and I take full responsibility. I can’t seem to behave myself around your nephew.”
Julian grabbed her hand before she could dart away. “I can’t let you go,” he insisted, looking quite serious and not at all doting or loving, so she knew he wasn’t about to fall on bended knee and declare he loved her madly. “John is still tracking the assailant. You’re my responsibility until he returns.”
Rose couldn’t stop her chin from quivering as she struggled to hold back tears. She’d just admitted that she loved him. Went on and on about it, truth be told. Declared herself a wanton in front of Lady Darnley. Was her humiliation to continue? “I release you of your so-called responsibility. I release you of every obligation you may feel toward me.”
“Rose, you’re twisting my words.”
“What words? You haven’t said anything to me other than that I’m an obligation to you. I just told you that I loved you.”
Lady Darnley gasped.
Rose was still too ashamed to look at her. “Can you not say it to me, Julian? If you can’t, then just say so. Don’t worry about sparing my delicate sensibilities. I’d like to hear the truth for once. Just tell me what’s in your heart.”
She finally glanced at his aunt. “I don’t mind if you stay, Lady Darnley. You and Lord Darnley knew my feelings for your nephew even before I realized them. You wouldn’t have thrown us together at the hunting lodge unless you were certain that a love match could develop. I do love your nephew. My heart soars whenever he’s near. But he doesn’t love me. There you have it.”
Lady Darnley began to back out of the kitchen. “I’ll leave the two of you alone a moment longer. Julian, you must tell her. Stop being an idiot.”
Rose gazed at him in expectation.
He ran a hand roughly through his hair. “I’m sorry, Rose. There are things I cannot say to you.” He strode across the kitchen and summoned his aunt. “Stitch me up. John will return soon. He and I will have to pay a call on the local magistrate.”
“Your uncle has already gone off to fetch him.” Lady Darnley regarded him askance. “And what of Rose?”
His gaze remained cold and indifferent. “She needs to trust me.”
CHAPTER 15
ROSE FELT AS though eons had passed, for every tick, tick, tick of the clock stretched out with excruciating slowness while they awaited John’s return. She, Lady Darnley, and Julian were still in the kitchen, which had been cleared of servants to lend privacy for the minor surgery Julian was about to undergo.
They would be allowed back in once Julian’s wound was stitched and he had once more donned his shirt. Not the blood-soaked one, but a fresh one brought down by Lord Darnley’s valet.
Rose ought to have been tossed out as well, but Julian refused to let her out of his sight for even a moment. Did he not trust her? Or was he worried that another assault could be in the offing? He’d ordered the footmen to arm themselves and sent two of those armed footmen off to the residence of the local squire to escort the children home once their party was over.
Rose thought it was a good idea to leave the children where they were for the m
oment, especially delicate Emily, who was easily frightened. She doubted Julian would reveal to the children what had happened, but Emily was likely to sense something was wrong. She would immediately pick up on the tension in the room and burst into tears. Her distress would affect her sleep as well.
Rose had taken the girl into bed with her twice already during the week and would do so again if the poor little thing needed comforting. She’d do the same for Kendra, although she was a hardier sort and would likely drop off to sleep without a care after a busy day at the squire’s party.
The matter of the children now resolved in her mind, her thoughts returned to Nicola. “I ought to check on your sister. She hasn’t left her position by the front entry since we ran back to the cottage.”
“No.” Julian motioned for her to sit down when she attempted to rise. “She’ll be fine. It’s you that the blackguard decided to shoot.”
Lady Darnley put a hand to her ample bosom. “Oh, dear. What if the villain has given John the slip? Will my dear Darnley be all right?”
Lord Darnley, upon being told of the incident, had roared like a bull, summoned his carriage, and immediately stormed off to fetch the local magistrate, intent on personally fetching the man, for he was incensed that anyone would dare put his family in danger, especially on the grounds of his beloved cottage. “Rose, you’re family, too,” he’d said before climbing into his carriage. “We love you as we do our own nieces and nephews.”
That had warmed her heart.
If only Julian felt the same way.
She stared at the clock again. Only ten minutes had passed. Ten interminably long minutes.
Where is John?
His absence cast a pall over all of them.
The kitchen now reeked of whiskey, for Julian was liberally pouring the contents of an excellent vintage onto his wound to thoroughly cleanse it before his aunt began to stitch his arm. Rose jumped to her feet. “Let me help you with that.”
He laughed and took a hearty swig, offering one to her in jest.
She frowned at him. “How can you be so casual at a time like this?”
His expression softened, allowing her to see the pain he’d been hiding all the while. “I’m not,” he said quietly.
She closed her eyes while Lady Darnley dug her needle into his flesh. Her stomach was in such a roil she didn’t think she could manage watching her loop the thread in and out of his raw, puckered wound without losing the contents of this morning’s breakfast or bursting into tears.
Her cold hands were clasped in front of her. Resting them on her lap and even rubbing them together did little to ease her sudden chill. In truth, her entire body was cold and shivering.
“Rose,” Julian said in a husky murmur, “hold onto me.” In the next moment, his warm palm fell atop her small hands and his fingers entwined with hers. Her first thought was that he needed a human touch to ease his pain as Lady Darnley worked needle and thread, and then she realized that he wasn’t afraid and his spirits did not need bolstering.
She opened her eyes and inhaled lightly in surprise. He was worried about her and trying to soothe her. It was extraordinary. He was injured and yet his thoughts were on her comfort.
“Done,” Lady Darnley said finally, taking a step back to admire her handiwork.
Julian ran his thumb across the top of Rose’s hand in slow, gentle circles. He hadn’t let go of her all the while his aunt stitched his wound. “Rose? Are you all right?”
She didn’t think it possible for love to grow deeper. Until now, she simply thought that one loved or one didn’t. But Julian’s gesture revealed how wrong her supposition had been. She smiled at him.
He gave her a lopsided grin in return. “No longer angry with me?”
Her response, which would have been an embarrassing stream of blather about how much she truly did love him, was cut short by a commotion at the front door. Julian released her and grabbed one of the pistols lying on the table, aiming it at the kitchen door as the sound of running footsteps drew nearer.
Rose jumped to her feet and gasped. “What are you doing? Nicola’s out there.”
“Get behind me. You too, Aunt Bess.”
Rose knew better than to disobey his instructions. Julian was not about to shoot before knowing his target, and the last thing he would ever do was shoot Nicola, no matter how willful or exasperating she could sometimes be.
“It’s me,” John called out before slowly entering the kitchen. His shirt was stained with a dark circle of red just below his heart.
Nicola followed him in, obviously distraught. “Will one of you louts please tell us what’s going on? John, whose blood is that? And if you dare tell me it’s only animal blood, I’ll pick up one of the weapons on this table and—good gracious, how many weapons can one hide on one’s person? And why would you feel the need to carry so many of them?”
“Enough, Nicola.” Julian said, finally dropping his arm. But he did not set down his pistol. “What happened, John? Are you injured?”
“No, it isn’t my blood. We ought to speak in private.” His gaze shot from Nicola to Lady Darnley and finally to Rose.
Julian motioned for him to take a seat at the table and nodded for the ladies to do the same. “Much as I would agree, it’s hopeless. They’ll only eavesdrop and I’d rather have Rose where I can see her. She’s in danger so long as they think I care for her.”
“Think you care? Don’t you like her?” Nicola had just sat down and was now back on her feet, incensed and sputtering in indignation. “How can you be so dense? Are all men this stupid? You and John are certainly proving it so.” She turned to scowl at John. “Yes, you too. You’re as bad as my brother. Possibly worse.”
Julian nudged her back into her seat, speaking to her with surprising patience. “Nicola, you’re overset and with good reason. There’s more going on than you understand. Let me hear what John has to say.”
“Can’t tell you anything useful, I’m afraid.” John shook his head and sighed. “The man was dead by the time I tracked him down, which means he had a partner. Or he was reporting to the man in charge, no doubt expecting to collect his reward, and received a musket ball to the chest instead.”
Rose’s heart beat faster. These men spoke so casually of death. No doubt they’d seen it all too often before.
John rested an elbow on the table and continued. “I tracked that other man, but lost his trail when his horse turned onto the London road. He’s taken the dead man’s horse as well. Apparently the beast has more value to him than his companion.”
“The pair must have followed us here from London,” Julian said.
John nodded. “I’ll have an easier time tracking him back to town. There can’t be many travelers with two horses to feed and water. Hopefully one of the ostlers will provide me with a decent description of the villain.”
Lady Darnley’s brow furrowed in obvious concern as she regarded both men. “You’re leaving?”
“Soon as I wash up and change my clothes,” John said. “I don’t want to fall too far behind the blackguard.”
Julian glanced at the clock. “Where’s the body? I’ll take the magistrate to inspect it once he arrives. Perhaps I’ll get a clue or two off it.”
“You’ll find it… him… just outside Birdslip, in the glade to the right of the main crossroads.” John slapped his hand on the table to mark the end of the conversation. “If you’ll excuse me, ladies. I have more hunting to do.”
Rose had a thousand questions she still wished to ask, but had no desire to delay John. She’d try to pry the answers out of Julian since he would remain with her until the magistrate arrived.
John paused as he reached the door. “Julian, er, do I… keep up the pretense?”
Julian rubbed a hand across the back of his neck and cast Rose a look of chagrin. Why was he staring at her? What did she have to do with any pretense? “No, don’t bother. No one was fooled by it.”
Nicola, obviously more nimble-brai
ned than Rose was at the moment, was back on her feet and mad as a wet hen. “What are you saying? That you ordered John to pretend he liked Rose?” Her hands curled into fists. “Do the two of you dolts have no care for her feelings? Do you make it a practice to lead young ladies along by their heartstrings and then break their fragile hearts?”
Rose groaned. Nicola ought to have been relieved that John was faking his affections. Rose certainly was delighted by this turn of events and Nicola would be too once she calmed down and gave it thought. John was not attached to any young lady and would now be free to court her, assuming her tirade hadn’t scared him off.
In truth, he didn’t appear the timid sort, but Nicola looked angry enough to fire off a cannonball straight through his chest.
“It was the best plan we could come up with to protect Rose,” Julian tried to explain. “One of us needed to watch over her and it couldn’t be me.”
“Protect her from whom? Her pottery ruffians?” Nicola seemed more confused than ever. “Were they behind this latest attempt?”
“No,” Rose said. “This is something far more serious. It involves Valentina, only I haven’t figured out what her role is exactly and your brother won’t tell me. No, that isn’t quite right. He can’t tell me. Which means he must be under orders from a higher authority and—” She gasped. “How stupid I’ve been! This involves Napoleon. She’s spying for him, isn’t she?”
“Holy hell,” John muttered. “What now?”
Rose shook her head emphatically. “Nothing. Do you seriously think I’d ever give away you or Julian?”
Julian groaned. “Never purposely. I know that. But this is a high stakes game and the smallest gesture, the slightest glance, could give our hand away. Bollocks, I dare not take any of you back to London now.”
Lady Darnley had remained silent all the while but spoke up now. “I think you must take us back as planned. Lord Darnley and I have obligations in town, and if what you say is true, I don’t think any of us will be safe if left behind here. We’re better off staying close to you so that you may more easily watch over us.”