by Sahara Kelly
“Good lad.” Miles helped Rose down and took her arm as they both walked to Selwyn’s door. “Ready?”
“As ready as I can be, given the circumstances,” she nodded.
The bell gave its customary tinkle as the two stepped inside, and he smiled at Rose’s gasp of pleasure at the sight of so many instruments on display.
“Yes, you may wander. I’ll find Selwyn.” He released her arm not a moment too soon. Understanding the allure, he let her go and turned the other way, knowing Selwyn might be in his workshop.
As indeed he was. “Good morning.” Miles poked his head in. “Am I disturbing you?”
Selwyn put down the violin and the strings with a sigh. “Not at all. A difficult challenge, since whoever plays this instrument seems to have used a hammer and a saw instead of a bow.”
Miles winced. “Well come and meet someone who uses neither.”
The two of them walked back into the shop to find Rose with a harp-lute on her knee, strumming a simple country air.
Selwyn stopped and listened, then smiled. “Now that’s how it should be played, Miles,” he whispered.
Miles, stunned by the shock of lust that had exploded inside him and nearly choked the words from his throat, nodded. “I couldn’t agree more.”
Finishing her solo performance, she looked up, and flushed. “Oh dear, I’m so sorry. I should have asked first. But this is such a magnificent instrument…” She ran her hands over the glowing surface of the soundbox.
Miles itched to have those hands running over him the same way and sighed. “It’s perfectly all right. I don’t think Selwyn is objecting.”
“Indeed not, dear lady. Indeed not.” Wreathed in smiles, he bore down on Rose. “It’s been quite some time since I heard such perfection…”
Miles performed the introductions, pleased that Rose accepted Selwyn’s compliments with the perfect blend of pride and modesty. The two engaged in some few minutes of conversation about the music, the harp-lute and instruments in general, before Miles felt it was time to introduce the topic they had come to discuss.
“Selwyn,” he said, distracting the other man’s attention from Rose. “Do you remember the music I purchased recently? It was for the harp-lute, if you recall…”
Selwyn’s eyes narrowed as he thought. “Yes, by Jove, yes I do.” He turned. “It would have been for you, Miss Glynde-Beauchamp, am I correct.”
“In a way, yes,” she answered. “I probably should let Lord Linfield explain, however.”
Puzzled, Selwyn turned to Miles. “Was there something wrong with it?” He frowned. “I do hope not. I have several more copies of that same piece. They arrived just yesterday.”
“May I see one?” Miles glanced at Rose and shook his head. He didn’t want to let Selwyn know what had happened quite yet.
She stayed quiet as Selwyn produced a manuscript. Miles looked at it closely. “This one is marked Lark Publishers.” He shot a quick look at Selwyn. “Do you know these folks?”
Selwyn nodded. “Yes indeed. I’ve been getting music from them for years.”
“I don’t suppose they hire composers, do they?”
“Not to my knowledge,” Selwyn shook his head. “It’s my understanding that they accept music submitted by composers, and if they consider them worthwhile, they will publish them.”
“Do you know how the financial end works?” Miles tipped his head to one side as he asked the question. “I mean, someone has to pay somebody, right? The price of this piece will include a percentage for you and for the distributor…”
“That’s correct,” the other man replied. “I will buy one or two pieces that look interesting. The good thing about being in business for some time, is that music distributors know what I like, and have a good idea what I sell. So—as in the case of this piece—they sent me a copy, and I liked it enough to order more.” He looked at Miles. “Especially since you purchased it. Your interest bore out my belief that it was worth handling.”
“I suppose it would.” Miles walked to Rose and handed her the harp-lute she’d put down. She blinked. “Get ready, my dear. You’re going to play a certain song for Selwyn.”
“Er, Linfield?” Selwyn’s brow furrowed even more. “I’m not sure what’s going on…”
Miles put the manuscript in front of Selwyn. “Read along with Rose.” He nodded at Rose.
She began to play the music she knew so well. Her fingers flew, her eyes stayed on Miles, and the music poured in effortless waves throughout the shop.
Within a very few moments, Selwyn’s head rose, and his eyebrows rose with it, higher and higher until he raised his hand to stop her. “I cannot believe what I’m hearing, Ma’am. You’re either the most brilliant natural musician I’ve ever heard, or you’ve spent the last weeks practising this piece over and over and over again…”
“What if I told you neither of those things were true, Selwyn?”
Miles spoke, but Selwyn stared at Rose.
“I wrote this piece, Mr Dunstable. It’s my work.” She sighed and put the instrument down. “I can tell you exactly how many quavers I used in the second section, and what chords need to be played to echo the motif throughout.” She gazed at him. “Would you like to know where the key shifts to D minor?”
His eyes dropped to the music.
“The third page, three quarters of the way down.”
“God,” he whispered. Then he looked back at her. “You wrote this?”
“I did,” she nodded. “And I have no idea how it ended up in your shop, since I thought I had the only copy at home in my music cupboard.”
“I believe you.” Selwyn lowered his backside onto the edge of a convenient table. “How the hel—er—dickens did it end up here? And from one of my most reliable distributors?”
“That is what we’re going to find out,” Miles avowed. “And we’re not leaving any stone unturned.
*~~*~~*
Departing Nota Bene, Rose sighed as she took Miles’s arm. “I feel sorry for poor Selwyn. He’s not responsible for any of this, but now he’s quite worried about the rest of his materials.”
“As well he should be,” agreed Miles. “But only the music he gets from Lark. And something makes me think he might hold off on any more purchases from them for a bit.”
“I should hate the thought of hurting his business.” She let him help her up to the high seat of the Tilbury.
“We haven’t.” Miles joined her after tipping his temporary postboy and retrieving the reins. “His reputation for music and instruments is well-earned. I’ll wager his work on the violin needing repair will garner him sufficient funds for quite some time. And that’s just one commission.”
“Good,” she sighed with relief, tucking her cloak around her. “So where to now? Mr Dunstable said that Lark Publishing is somewhere just north of town?”
“Yes, and I have to verify that before we visit,” Miles answered as he guided them back out from the side street and onto a main road. “But right now, we are going to ensure the accuracy of the statement about driving in the park.”
“Ah,” she said, leaning back a little. “And the sun is shining too. Lovely.” Although she wanted to know more about the issues of her music, just at this moment bowling along in the sunshine beside Miles seemed like the perfect thing to do.
“It will do us good to be seen together, of course. It lends a little extra emphasis to the announcement we haven’t made.”
She chuckled. “One has to admire a town where implications are more effective when denied and the obvious isn’t obvious at all.”
“Um…” He thought about that. “Probably.”
They turned toward the park, the trees above them filled with buds and many already sheathed in a green glow, predicting a full and healthy foliage within the next few weeks.
There were some carriages there, but it was still early, both in the day and in the Season. Rose knew that by the afternoon, there would be many more people out enjoying the good weather, a
nd gathering the strands of the gossip and rumours that would fly anew during the upcoming Season.
She sighed, and Miles glanced at the sound. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she nodded, her eyes wandering over the scenery. “It’s very pretty here.”
“It is.” He agreed, then surprised her by slowing the horse and turning down a lane she hadn’t even noticed before. “And I think you’ll enjoy this view.”
After a few minutes the lane narrowed, and she had to make sure her cloak was tucked around her so that it didn’t catch on a wayward branch. “My goodness. This looks almost deserted.”
“It is,” he commented. “Not many know it’s here, and especially not at this time of year. Being seen is the objective of a drive in the park. Why find a place that is completely private? It wouldn’t make sense to most of the visitors.”
The lane opened out into a little field, sheltered by a thicket of evergreens and a stand of tall pines. The sun shone brightly and one or two early rhododendron flowers sprinkled bright crimson splashes amidst their shiny dark leaves. Daffodils nodded in the sunshine beneath the bushes, and the only sound was birdsong, filling the air with a music that owed nothing to instruments and everything to nature.
It was idyllic, and Rose didn’t hesitate to say so.
“Miles,” she breathed. “How lovely.”
“I was hoping you’d think so.” He jumped down, letting the reins fall loose, since there wasn’t anywhere for the horse to go. “Come on. Let’s explore.” He grabbed a blanket from the basket beneath the seat.
She followed, scrambling down before he could get to her, straightening her skirts and looking around with pleasure. “Oh, it’s so…magical.” She smiled, loving the serenity and the quiet, so unexpected in London.
He took her hand and led her across the grass, soft under her feet and showing a few buttercups here and there. Stopping at the base of a tree, he spread the cloak out on the ground, ensuring them a little shade from the tree itself and the thick shrubbery that grew prolifically to a sizeable height. No perfectly pruned plants here, just life as nature intended.
“A little grotto, just for us,” said Miles as he sat and held out his hand. “Join me, Rose. Let’s take a bit of time for you and I.”
How could she say no? When everything she was screamed at her to take his hand and let him pull her down on the grass next to him? When she was settled, he smiled and reached for the fastening of her cloak. “I don’t think we need worry about this for a while. It’s quite warm down here.”
He was so close she could see the softness of his skin where he’d shaved, and smell the scent of him, leather, wool and sandalwood. Her heart kicked an odd beat as he slipped the outer garment away from her shoulders—and nearly stopped when his eyes dropped to her lips.
She couldn’t wait.
She put her hands around his neck, pulled him to her and kissed him for all she was worth.
Chapter Sixteen
Rose’s lips on his ignited something fierce and devouring inside Miles.
Her actions galvanised him, and it was with great difficulty that he restrained himself from laying her down, flipping up her skirts and taking her right then and there, in the sunshine, under the bored gaze of the horse.
She was eager, learning to kiss, seeking more and more, her hands tight around his neck, her fingers playing in his hair.
“Rose,” he sighed, pulling his mouth away. “God, Rose.”
“Miles,” she whispered. “Teach me…”
His eyes nearly crossed, but he fought for some semblance of control as he took her in his arms and laid her down beside him in the sunshine.
Lying next to her, he slid an arm beneath her neck and shoulders, lifting her half onto his body and letting her take control over their embrace. She caught on immediately, leaning to him, her mouth slightly open, her lips ripe and ready.
He took them, plunging his tongue between them, finding hers, tasting her, letting his free hand run over her shoulder, her arm, her back and finally to her breast.
She gasped as he cupped her, gently rubbing his thumb over the tight bud he discovered beneath her gown.
“Miles,” she gasped again. “God, that…what you’re doing…” she closed her eyes.
“Do you like it?”
She nodded, pushing herself further into his grasp. “Oh yes. Yes. It feels…”
“What, love? How does it feel?”
She swallowed, her eyes still shut. “Tingly. Exciting. It makes me want…” She slithered nearer, one leg bending, moving over his a little. It was a sensual move that had Miles clenching his teeth.
So he kissed her again, deeply, crushing her to him, pinching her nipple as their bodies clashed. His moan of pleasure was echoed by a muted cry from her as she wriggled against him, her legs parted now, her body half on top of his as her hips moved, seeking, exploring…
He was hard, rigid in fact, as she ground herself against him. He could lift her, undo his breeches and be inside her within seconds…a scenario that damn near shot him over the edge.
Determined to act like the grown man he was, and not some randy youth who couldn’t hold himself together, Miles slid their bodies apart, while keeping their mouths touching. He rolled a little, taking over control, lingering over her breast, then moving his hand down further to gather her skirts and pull them away from her.
In seconds he found bare skin, soft and dewy, and traced his way upward. She parted her thighs in silent acknowledgment, humming a little into his mouth as their tongues slowly caressed each other. The hum became a moan as he moved his palm even higher, and then a muted cry as he found her, wet and silky, boiling hot, and waiting only for his skilled hand to send her flying
She stilled, and he lifted his head from that eager mouth to find her eyes wide and golden brown in the sunlight, watching his face. “Miles,” she breathed. “Touch me.”
“I have to.” He spoke nothing but the truth.
“I’m saying yes.” She bent one leg at the knee, knowingly opening herself to his hand.
“Rose…” he stroked her, petted the soft curls he knew hid her secrets, and then delved through them, finding the swollen flesh and the wet folds of her sex.
She bit back a cry of pleasure as his thumb strummed over the tight little bud he’d awakened, and gasped as he slid a finger between her searing hot lips and into the darkness they concealed.
He felt her body as it tensed and kept his stroking light but determined.
He was going to watch her fall apart in his arms.
She moaned, her hips moved, she rode the wave he created with eager willingness, allowing him to play, to tease, to arouse and to penetrate her, first with one finger, then two as he slowly and gently slid another inside. His thumb never left off the gentle caressing and within a short time she trembled, shaking from head to foot as she stood on the very brink of her release.
He stared at her. “Rose, watch me. Watch me…” For some reason he had to have her eyes open and on him. He didn’t know why, just that it was what had to be.
She obeyed, opening her eyes once more, and they turned vague as he pressed and rubbed and pushed her as high as she could go. With a choked scream she shattered, her cheeks flushing, her gaze unfocussed and her mouth in an “O” of surprise. Her body clenched around his hand in violent spasms of ecstasy as she drifted through the sensations, shivering and gasping for breath as his mouth found hers once more and pulled her back from the brink with a deep and passionate kiss
She struggled to breathe as he withdrew his hand, unable to keep it from his face as he lifted it to her nose and inhaled her sweet and spicy fragrance.
Her eyes widened as she watched him, her body relaxing, her muscles loosening.
He delicately lifted his fingers to his mouth and licked them, tasting her for the first time, and knowing that she watched every single move. Her jaw dropped as her eyes followed his movements.
“You taste like su
nshine and spring,” he whispered. “I’m going to drink from that fountain soon, Rose.”
She gulped. “Miles,” it was a whisper. “I want to taste you too.”
He couldn’t help the groan. “I’d like that very much.” He sighed. “But not here. Not now.”
Her gaze drifted to his distorted breeches. “No?”
“Stop it.” He moved away with a painful grin. “No, not here.”
“But sometime soon, please? Promise me?” She lifted herself onto her arm and rested her head on her hand, watching him as he fidgeted. “Promise me, Miles. Fair is fair. I want to touch you too. To learn about you…”
He grinned. “A promise that I will happily make and even more happily keep.” He was still hard, but she’d rearranged her skirts to cover her legs. He would survive. “You are an adventurous young woman, you know.”
She made a sound that was very close to a purr. “I read a lot.”
“Really?” He lifted an eyebrow.
“Yes.” She nodded and sat up, straightening her bonnet with a move that was so intrinsically feminine it stunned him. “Have you ever heard of a volume titled Cytherean Tales?”
For a second or two, Miles was speechless with shock. Then his lips started to curve into a grin. “Oh my. Yes, sweet girl. I have indeed.”
“Well, you see,” Rose’s cheeks coloured a little. “It’s actually a book for women, so last autumn we were able to get our hands on one copy. Since then I’ve obtained my own.”
“Really?” He laughed at the thought. “So now there are many women roaming London eager to experiment on us poor helpless males?”
“Something like that.” She flashed him a look from the side of her eyes that made him want her even more. “And besides, since we’re improperly engaged, I’m assuming we can act improperly. This will be my only chance, of course, since once I cry off, nobody will be interested in marrying me.”
He cleared his throat. “And you’re intending to cry off…when?” Miles managed to ask the question in a level tone. What he wanted to do was scream at her that crying off was out of the question, but it was a testament to his control that he refrained from that outburst.