“No doubt, they have reason. Until this trip, I thought you were an indolent little miss. I’ve now discovered that you have too much energy for your own good.”
“How fortunate you will not be forced to marry me. You would be rigid with outrage if you had to marry a woman who was not content to sit in corner sewing.”
Rose no idea how a wife of an ambitious man should behave. Barely a year ago, the thought would have been inconceivable that the willful beauty would have captured him. Ian’s mouth lifted at one corner. She would certainly keep him rigid, but not with outrage.
However, the time had come to go up to bed. Rose grabbed the cat, which heaved an impatient sigh and glanced at Ian as if asking for help. Absentmindedly, he reached out and tickled her under the chin. “Do you want me to wait here until you are in bed?”
“Are you asking if I mind you watching me undress? I don’t know because you haven’t, but if you don’t plan to stare, I don’t mind.”
“Will you be baring anything that would make me stare?”
She shrugged. “I’m afraid I don’t know what would make you stare, but I can assure you that I am made the same way as other females.”
“I’ll wait here for quarter of an hour, in that case,” he said, his breath short, praying that last night’s tactics would serve him well again tonight.
She huffed upstairs with the cat.
Rose knew the exact moment when Ian had seen her as a desirable woman and not simply the woman who was currently sharing his chaste bed. He had wanted her when he had snatched her off the tavern table. His expression had been the same as her other suitors, slightly transfixed, unblinking, and with a hint of a softened mouth. The only difference between him and her witless suitors was that he didn’t want to want her.
Now she had her chance and she needed to take the first step, or he would somehow evade her again. After all, no one was ever likely to know they had shared a bed, or that he hadn’t touched her. Being desired was not enough for her. She didn’t want an offer because he felt obliged. If Ian married her because he had no other choice, she would feel guilty for the rest of her life.
She hadn’t maneuvered the current situation. Luck had been on her side, but luck often needed a little more help. Her parents had a perfect union and adored each other. All things considered, Rose wanted an honorable husband, and she appreciated that Ian was an honorable man. But honorable men didn’t make love to the daughters of colleagues without proposing marriage. A forced proposal would never be enough for her.
After unpinning her hair, she removed her shoes and stockings, and loosened her laces. Fifteen minutes would allow her time to spare, and so she managed to pack most of her clothes tidily into her trunk after she had donned her nightgown. He had already taught her that a room with clothes scattered all around wouldn’t impress the man who appreciated military neatness.
By the time she heard the creak of the stairs, she was nicely arranged in the bed, her hair disheveled around her face, hoping that looked wanton rather than untidy. The door opened. Ian glanced at her, nodded and, seeing the cat on the chair, sat on the bed to remove his boots. He had barely glanced at Rose. She swallowed her nervousness.
Although she watched him undress, she didn’t see anything that she hadn’t seen last night. He wore his linen under-drawers. Like last night, he turned down the lamp before the mattress dipped on his side. Again he rolled away from her. She whispered, “Good night,” and he grunted.
She slid down in the bed and curved toward him. Dipping her head slightly, she rested the side of her face against the firm and warm skin of his back. When he didn’t repulse her, she snaked an arm around his waist. His hand covered hers. He drew a deep sigh. “Go to sleep,” he said in a husky voice.
She didn’t answer. Instead she moved her hand lower down, flattening her palm over the hard muscles of his stomach. Her insides flipped and clenched as she considered going even lower. Instead, her shifting mouth found the dent in the skin his back. “Is this where you were wounded?” she said against his skin.
He grunted again.
“Does it still hurt?”
“No. Are you planning on talking all night?”
“Not if I find anything better to do.”
The bed lurched as he rolled over. For a moment he remained facing her, and then she heard him sigh. He moved a little closer and dropped his arm around her waist. She wriggled even closer. Both of her palms settled on his chest, which thudded hard. His large hand spanned her back and without any noticeable effort, he brought her body up into his. She lay very still, clasped against his toasty warm body, sharing his heat, while she tried to breath normally. Hard up against her belly his ... “What do you call this? Penis?”
He took another enormous breath. “No. That’s the anatomical name. The part of me that is paying attention to you is called Arthur,” he said in a deadly voice.
She huffed a laugh into his shoulder. “Really?”
“No. I’m a common soldier. I don’t bother with formalities.”
“You’re an officer, or you were.”
“We officers don’t name our penises. We call them cocks like the common soldiers. Can we go to sleep, now?”
She shut her eyes, but her heart pounded and her breath came in short spurts. Not sure if she was brave enough to touch him, she gathered up all her courage and lifted onto one elbow, staring at his face in the dark. She could see outlines but no details but she knew where his lips were, because her nose bumped his.
In a surprise attack, she pressed her mouth to his. For a moment he didn’t react. Then, slowly he responded with a soft tender kiss unlike any she had known. His hand reached behind her head and he slowly slid his mouth from her lips to her cheek. After the lightest touch, he nestled her head under his chin.
His thudding heart rested beneath her palm. Yet again, she raised her face to him. She heard him breathe out before he connected his lips to hers in a gentle pacifying manner. The fact that he didn’t push her away encouraged her. The fact that he smelled like fresh snow and cold air, and he tasted of wine and unassailability made her want him all the more. Although he did nothing to encourage her, she found herself half covering him while he teased her with half kisses, slow kisses, fast kisses and full kisses. Her lips parted and she used the tip of her tongue to tease him back.
Before she knew where she was, she was half straddling him. He cupped her behind with one large hand. She was aware of his heavy breathing, the heat of his big body, and his gentleness. He handled her like a piece of precious porcelain, as if afraid he might break her. Anyone could have told him she was as tough as an old hide but because she looked so demure and helpless, people expected her to be that way. She didn’t mind, except in this case. She wanted to be a real-life woman for Ian.
Nipping at his mouth, she inexorably moved her hand down to his cock. Her chest knotted with excitement mixed with fear. She was now heading into the unknown and she didn’t want to make a fool of herself. With her palm flat over him, and her heart taking up a thud and a stop, a thud and a stop, she almost couldn’t breathe.
His hand clamped over hers. “No.”
Her cheeks heated. Clearly this was not the right thing to do. Well, if she planned to marry him, he would have to let her touch him sometime. Surely. She hesitated. “No means no?”
“No means no.”
“Why.”
“Because we are not married.”
“I’m sure marriage isn’t a requisite for this kind of thing. Even the maids know all about it and I know one or two who had certainly participated.” Even to her, she sounded petulant and Rose Darnell begged no man. Rose Darnell also did not remove her hand.
His flattened. “You surely don’t expect me to take your virginity in a wayside inn?”
She breathed out and lifted her fingers, hearing the harsh grating of his voice. “Of course not, bearing in mind that a person can’t take something that has already gone.” Having salvaged he
r pride with a lie, she rolled off him and turned toward the fire, hating herself for being pathetic, realizing that she had always been pathetic. She was pretty, vain, and superfluous. Ian didn’t see her as a suitable wife, or a good mother for his children. He didn’t want her at all.
Her throat swelled and ached. She had a reason to love him. He was a good man, totally good. He was a recognized hero. In war, he had saved his men from death by noticing during a charge that a trap that had been set by the enemy. At the last minute, he had his whole troop swerve, circle around the battlefield, and attack from behind. Instead of losing hundreds of men, he had saved not only his, but those who had followed behind. He had been incapacitated by his wounds, and he made light of the ridged scar on his back. In him, she saw everything that was heroic and noble.
In herself she saw a pretty woman who had men by the dozens wanting to possess her because she was a pretty woman—not because she had any assets whatsoever. None but her friends laughed at her stupid jokes, and no one wanted to marry her because they respected the contents of her mind. Helpless tears soaked her pillow. She heard Ian arise and use the washbasin, then climb back into bed. With her nose blocked and her eyes swollen, she eventually slept.
Chapter 8
Ian lay on his back for hours, guilty, regretful, and uncertain. If he had taken Rose, that would have been wrong. Instead, he had humiliated her by rejecting her. When he balanced humiliating her on one hand, and leaving her no recourse other than to marry him on the other, he had had taken the only choice a man in love could.
God knew he wanted her, but he didn’t want a fleeting moment of pleasure to lead to a forced marriage. If no one ever found out about this stay at the Pig and Piper, her reputation would be safe enough. Since she wanted him purely for the experience, he saw no credible role for himself in her life. A one-time lover would never be enough when he wanted to cherish her forever.
Giving in to his weakness for her and accepting her tentative touch had been agony enough without the pleasure of touching her. Trying to make lines of the gray pocks in the ceiling became his occupation until the light began to cast shadows beneath the window.
Rose still lay faced away from him. She’d slept unmoving all night. After noting how morning light differentiated the shades of silver and gold in her hair, he finally turned and slid out of bed. He poured last night’s washing water into the slops’ jar and refilled the basin before sluicing the cold flannel over his body. The wake-up of the icy water refreshed him after his night of becoming acquainted with Rose’s back.
After dressing quickly, he slotted Merry under his arm and took her for quick trip outside. The snowfall had stopped and the melt had begun. Slushy puddles had begun to form. On his way back, he stepped into the tavern. Walton and Marty sat in a corner booth of a room that had been tidied after last night’s havoc. Two questioning faces glanced up at him. “The eggs is good this morning, sir,” Marty said, his speckled gray sideburns glimmering in the morning light from the window behind him. He filled his mouth with a forkful and followed with a swallow of ale.
“The weather appears to have cleared up, at least. What do you think, Walton? Should we travel today?”
Using a hand decorated by bruised knuckles, Walton indicated three men who sat at the other table. “They got through this morning. Had an early start. Said the road is clear all the way to Kent. The snow didn’t fall near the coast as bad as here.”
“If we wants to get back home today, we should start early.” Marty’s hints were as subtle as using a hammer to break an egg. He stared at the cat jammed under Ian’s arm.
“I’ll order breakfast and wake ... milady.”
Both nodded and continued shoveling food into their mouths as fast as they could, since the horses would need to be fed and watered and the carriage hitched up. Rather than traveling to the parlor to call for service, Ian ordered a meal from the taproom to be sent upstairs, and went to wake Rose.
She stood in her under-gown, her arms above her head, coiling her pale hair into place. His heart began to beat like a sledgehammer. Rose’s grace matched her beauty, and neither could beat her sweetness and her blatant desirability. He glanced away, determined not to let his stark desire for her show in his expression, dropping the cat on the bed. From now on, he would be cool and circumspect in her company.
She dressed quickly and, carrying the surly cat, she joined him in the parlor just as a light breakfast was served. Mrs. Hobbs had also packed bread, ham, and cheese for the journey. After that, Rose insisted on them visiting the kitchen and thanking everyone for their care and attention in the past two days. “I hope you don’t mind me taking the cat with me,” she said to Mrs. Hobbs.
“Delighted, my lady,” Mrs. Hobbs answered with a grin. “That there cat is the most miserable creature in the world. Fed and cared for by you and your husband, and all she can do is sulk. You don’t deserve such ingratitude, indeed you don’t.”
“I think she has been hurt and needs to learn to trust people. Everyone deserves a chance.” Rose sailed out of the inn with a beatific smile.
She put herself in the carriage with the cat on her lap, and nodded at Ian as if she hadn’t spent a night in his bed with her cautious hand exploring his aching cock. He heaved a breath. The trip home would likely be torturous.
Although she spoke politely to him, she remained as cool he. She didn’t joke, and she didn’t smile, unlike the carefree Rose of the day before. He had deeply hurt her, he knew, and she wouldn’t let him forget. He wanted to tell her he loved her, but since he had no doubts about her virginal state, he knew she was serious about not wanting him for anything other than to experiment with her own attraction.
They made good time on the slush-filled road, and only stopped for one quick break. After the early darkness began to gray the interior of the carriage, he turned to her and said politely, “I’m sure you agree that we should push through, rather than stop now.”
“I’m sure that even if I objected, that you would do so. However, I think you would agree that the less time we spent in each other’s company, the better.” Her tone formal, she gathered the edges of her cape, and enclosed herself with Merry in the tight folds.
Merry scrabbled out at the top, springing onto Ian’s thighs, taking up the position as the guard of his knees, faced away as usual. At least she wasn’t clawing his flesh. “I thought, perhaps, after the intimacies last night, that I should make you an offer of marriage,” he said carefully. He had no intention of boring her with any unwanted emotion, having taken a lesson from the cat.
She turned, met his gaze, and offered him a limpid smile. “Oh, dear. There’s no need, as we both know. Let’s not pretend either of us wants to marry the other. We had a nice little sojourn, Sir Ian, but that is all. I enjoyed discovering that you are, after all, a man like any other. But I have a house to prepare for my parents for Christmas, and after Papa has had a break, I will be joining my friends back in London.”
Rose politely shook Sir Ian’s hand after he had deposited her on the front step later that night, after enduring a silence in the carriage thick enough to shield her emotions. The butler opened the door, his face creased with a welcoming smile. “We hoped you would arrive today, Miss Rose, but we heard the snow had stopped most of travelers.”
“Only for a short time, Sanders. I have brought home a present for myself. Meet Merry, the cat who is one day going to be very happy here.” She handed the cat to him, and followed the footman with her overnight trunk up the stairs.
She was tenderly placed into her warm bed by a maid, and brought a cup of hot chocolate. Sipping hunched over the mixture, she raised her gaze to ask, “Has Merry been fed?”
“The cat? Yes, Miss Rose.”
“She likes to sit with her back to people.”
“She’s sitting in front of the kitchen stove that way. Mrs. Mason thought she was missing you, Miss Rose.”
“No doubt she is. Could you bring her up, please? I will fin
d a nice corner for her to face.”
In no time Merry was prowling around the bedroom, disapproving of every corner to settle. Eventually, she sprang up onto the bed with Rose, prodded at the foot for three or four circles, curled up, and turned her face to the door. “You’re welcome to snuggle under the quilt with me, Merry,” Rose said as soon as the maid left her for the night. “But don’t feel that you might hurt my feelings if you don’t. No one else wants to.” With those last words, tears left her eyes in thick runnels, and she sobbed until her nose had swollen and her eyes hurt.
She’d had a chance to make herself acceptable to Sir Ian and she had instead shown herself to be everything an ambitious man wouldn’t want in a wife. He had been furious with her for singing in the tavern, but she couldn’t think what else to do. His perfect partner would have stayed in the parlor all day, and then admired him when he had removed the source of displeasure. Instead, she had made a noise and distracted everyone, and called too much attention to herself, as usual, when all the time she knew he wanted to be unnoticed, except as a pleasant guest.
If anyone ever inquired at the Pig and Whistle about Rose and Sir Ian, the day of the faro ruckus would be remembered. Ian’s reputation was as much at stake as hers. Had she been a light-skirt, people would have admired him for sharing a room with her, or even looked the other way, but instead she had lied about being his wife. The repercussions about the past two nights could cause his potential career to be compromised. No one would trust a man who had dishonored the daughter of a neighbor.
Although she certainly didn’t feel dishonored, she wouldn’t admit the truth to anyone. Nor would Sir Ian, she would bet, because if anyone heard even a whisper of scandal about the trip, they would be more than disappointed. She could imagine Papa’s kind face, creased with worry about her and blaming himself for letting her go, when the whole time she had schemed to trap Sir Ian into an unwanted marriage.
Once Upon a Christmas Wedding Page 100