Rosalind couldn't believe the mess she was in. Marry Ashton? Was he serious? She wasn't repulsed at the thought of pretendingtruth be told, a part of her secretly enjoyed itbut now he was asking her why she wouldn't actually marry him.She shivered, even though the dressing gown she wore was warm against her. Her wet hair still lay thick and heavy on her shoulders. She felt vulnerable, too exposed physically and emotionally. Given the intense gleam in Ashton's eyes, she knew he was aware of this vulnerability, and no doubt planned to use it to his advantage.Yet she sensed in him a practiced restraint that always amazed her. She'd never met a man with so much control. Any other man would be pressing his advantage to slake his lust, but not Ashton. If it hadn't been for that moment in the theater, she'd wonder if he even desired her. Was it all a game to him, even his passions?"Is the thought of marrying me so dreadful to contemplate that it turns your stomach? What do you find dist
Poor creature.Ashton paused in the doorway between his bedchamber and the dressing room, a full jug of water in his hand. From where he stood, he could see Rosalind fast asleep in the chair by the fire.After tonight's events, she was worn out. It was a miracle she'd held out as long as she had. He set the jug of water down on the dresser and walked over to her chair. She did not stir as he cradled her in his arms and carried her to his bed. He set her down long enough to pull back the covers on one side, then picked her up again and placed her under them.When he tried to tuck her hands under to keep them warm, she grasped his fingers and wouldn't let go. The connection sent soft warmth through his chest. He didn't want to let go of her hand. He pulled off his boots, then scooted her over in the bed so he could lie down beside her, still holding her hand in his. He lay there, watching the firelight play across her face and the shadows under her eyes.He had learned much about his
Rosalind had the most peculiar dream.She was lying in bed with a man, held close against his long, lean muscled body, his warm breath stirring her hair as he breathed deep and slow. It was a strange and wondrous feeling to lie so close to a man she'd been battling in business for months and feel so protected.Her husband had always kept a separate chamber for sleeping and only visited her bed once a week; then after a sweet kiss goodnight, he'd leave her to sleep alone. It was an older custom, one more suited to noble classes, but she understood that Henry wished to let her have her privacy when they weren't together. It had been sweet, but then again, Henry had been a wonderful man. A safe harbor from the storms of her past.But thisthis was a lovely dream. She'd heard Emily and her friends speak about the joys of sleeping so close to a man for the entire night.I mustn't let such stories fill my mind before sleep.Sure enough, when she opened her eyes, there was no man beside h
Lord, I can't let him kiss me again. I seem to lose all good sense when I do.Rosalind stepped back from Ashton and attempted to start a conversation."It is kind of you to let the tenants stay here." She hadn't told him that before, but she'd wanted to.He stared at her intently. "I'm not a brute, Rosalind." She had the impression he was attempting to convey something about how he intended to deal with her."Are you a mind reader as well?" She kept her tone light, doing her best to tease him back. Outside of her brothers, teasing remarks had always gotten her ears soundly boxed.His lips twitched again. "A mind reader?"Rosalind had the sudden desire to see him smile more fully. "Ashton, you are far too serious. Why don't you smile more often?"He curled an arm around her waist and guided her into a room on the right of the hall. She peered around curiously at the room, taking in walnut wood bookshelves brimming with everything from books containing folded maps of the world to
"You're serious about this marriage business?" Charles asked as he, Jonathan and Ashton lifted yet another charred beam away from the foundations where the Higgins farmhouse had once been. They set the beam in the back of a large cart. Several other men from the village and surrounding lands were busy assisting in the clearing away of the destroyed houses."Yes, I am." Ashton paused to wipe his sleeve across his brow. It was too damned hot for this sort of work. If anything, he should be supervising the others. It was not fitting for a man of his station to perform manual labor, but he could not sit idly by, not when he was flooded with frustrated sexual energy. If he couldn't take Rosalind to bed, he needed to use that pent-up passion for something productive."But why?" Charles repeated. "I thought you swore off marriage.""It's complicated, Charles. Mother is pushing me to marry for Joanna's sake, and I am tired of fighting her. If she believes Rosalind and I are courting, it wil
Mr. Pevensly took pride in being Lady Melbourne's butler and seeing to the duties which helped him care for Her Ladyship's residence. Holding his head high, he descended the stairs, white gloves running the length of the banister. When he reached the bottom stair he lifted his gloved fingers, examining them for dust. They came away clean. With a satisfied smile, he proceeded through the rest of the house, checking on each room. The last door he came to before he was to join the staff downstairs for supper was Her Ladyship's study.Pevensly opened the door and glanced inside, assuming all would be in order. But before he closed the door a breeze drifted through the room from an open window facing the mew below. Papers on the desk rustled, and the curtains slowly lifted and fell.Frowning, Pevensly walked over to the window and slid it shut. A maid must have left it open, for what purpose he could not fathom, but he would speak to the maids and remind them not to leave open windows in
Lord Pembroke was as good as his word. By the time the waltz had ended, with Pembroke pressing himself as close to Rosalind as he could for every turn, Ashton had pushed away from his wall and was stalking toward her, eyes blazing. But before he could speak to her, Rafe slipped in between them."Sorry, brother, but I am next." Rafe flashed a wolfish smile at his brother.Ashton attempted to take Rosalind's other hand to pull her away. "Surely you should not be dancing after your fall.""Nonsense," Rafe replied. "I've been resting too long. Some activity will do me good."Rosalind bit her lip to hide a smug smile as she walked past Ashton to follow Rafe out onto the dance floor. "I'm sorry you shan't have what you desire, Lord Lennox."Ashton visibly clenched his fists.Rafe glanced at his brother with a chuckle. "So, Lady Melbourne, tell me, are you going to marry my brother? The talk of the house is that you will, which makes little sense to me. I noticed a tension between you t
This night was hell on Ashton's control.Watching Rosalind, his Rosalind, going around the dance floor from one man to the nextit was going to kill him. Every time someone touched her hand or made her smile, he flinched."Two more dances. That's all I have to endure." He forced his attention to the rest of the room. His mother was laughing as she huddled in a corner with the other married ladies. A dozen or so ostrich plumes bounced as the ladies bent their heads to gossip. It was his mother's element: the social scene.She was the daughter of an earl, one with a vast fortune, and despite having had her pick of eligible bachelors had married his father out of foolish notions of love. His father's decline had hurt his mother by association. It was only in the last few years that she had entered back into society.He'd helped arrange that, of course, using the fortune he'd built for their family to buy their way back in with wealth and influence. Not that his mother had any notion of
The roads proved to be quite passable as sunlight melted much of the last evening's snowfall. Ella leaned against the side of the coach, watching sunlight glint off the snow like diamonds scattered on the surface of a white sheet. The rocking rhythm of the coach and the thudding sounds of the hooves lulled her into a numb state somewhere between wakefulness and slumber. She tried not to let her mind drift back to this morning, but it seemed determined to replay flashes of their lovemaking.The way Phillip's eyes lit up between slow kisses, how it felt to thread her fingers through his hair, the sighs he made as they embraced after coming apart. The way it felt to have his fingertips brush against her cheek. Even the way he spoke her name as she walked away. She would remember every little thing, the bursts of light and heat, and the cold sting of her breaking heart. Perhaps in time the memories would fade, but she doubted it. If only he was brave enough to come after her, to fight for
Ella awoke to the smell of porridge, eggs, and ham. She moved languidly, stretching her limbs, feeling sore between her thighs and a slight dampness in the sheets. Her face flushed as she sat up in bed. Phillip was seated by the fire, reading a novel. A tray of food sat on the table beside him, untouched."You should eat."He looked over his shoulder at her, his mouth quirking into a grin. "I was waiting for you. Come." He patted his lap, and the invitation was too much for her to resist. She slipped out of bed and joined him. He curled an arm around her waist as she eased down on his lap."How do you feel?" he asked, his eyes tender as he looked at her."A little sore," she admitted. "But wonderful too. I fear you've given me a taste for sin.""Have I now?" His delighted chuckle pleased her so much that her heart hurt. She loved his laugh, his smile, everything. She wanted only happiness for him because he had suffered so much."Yes, most definitely. Where did you learn such a u
Phillip woke before dawn, feeling more rested than he had in a long time. A beautiful woman lay beside him, and memories of how sweet the previous night had been made him want to burst into song like a lovestruck fool. He'd given her pleasure and she'd returned it, and it had been going so damned well until he'd fallen asleep. Yet his body didn't ache, and his leg didn't hurt as he was used to first thing in the morning. He moved slightly, expecting pain, but the usual stiffness in his thigh and lower calf and shin weren't there.He stared down at Ella's scantily clad body lying beside him. Had she truly rubbed his body last night, or had it been a sweet dream? He'd gotten so used to that, dreaming she was there to heal everything with her love and sweetness, that he didn't quite trust the reality.No, it hadn't been a dream. She had pleasured him with her mouth and almost brought him to his knees. Then she'd shown tenderness in helping him with his leg. God, the woman was exquisite
The night was full of magic. Ella couldn't stop smiling as she left the dancers and returned to the table with Bridget.Warwick poured them wine from a bottle a barmaid delivered to them. "Well done, ladies, well done."The wine was sweet on Ella's tongue and went straight to her head as she ate dinner. Phillip kept a hand on her waist, so deliciously scandalous, even though they were pretending to be married. She could have floated away without a care in the world."Well, it's getting late. I think we'll turn in," Phillip said at last. "It was a pleasure to meet you both."Bridget smiled. "As it was for us, my lord."Phillip collected his cane, and Ella slipped her arm in his as they headed for the stairs."You were stunning tonight," Phillip said as they climbed the steps together."Was I?" She couldn't resist preening a little. She rarely received compliments from men who weren't her brothers."You were most enchanting." Phillip leaned against the wall as he unlocked their d
Phillip was damned, but he couldn't stop what he was doing. She was so tender, so full of warmth and youthful excitement. Her kiss made him feel like the man he'd once been long ago. Like the man who'd danced with her in that ballroom ages ago, feeling her spin and twirl back into his arms. How she'd looked up at him when he'd kissed her beneath that starry night sky, and he'd thought in that moment they could have held the entire world between them.Now he was kissing her again, and it was different. She was not a young, teasing debutante. She was a woman now, one who'd learned disappointments and heartache and clung to happiness that much stronger whenever she found it. He wanted to make sure their time together now was everything she'd dreamed of.Her eager response to the touch of his lips or the flick of his tongue against hers brought back a flood of excitement. He'd thought he was incapable of feeling like this again, but he'd been blissfully wrong. A sweet melody echoed about
The following morning, Ella stepped out into the courtyard between the two gatehouses and blinked in surprise to find Phillip dressed and ready to leave. She'd thought perhaps after last night he wouldn't come. Yet there he was, eyes glinting with amusement at her astonishment.He looked dashing in buff trousers and an indigo waistcoat. A greatcoat hung around his shoulders, only adding to the handsome picture he presented. Beyond him a large traveling coach stood ready. Marcus and Cora were helping the driver secure several valises to the back of the coach. The morning sky was still a watery gray as the sun failed to penetrate the heavy snow clouds that had gathered above them.Phillip greeted her with a smile as she reached him. "Good morning."She smiled back, but a sudden bout of nerves made her tremble. Had she really asked him to tutor her in seduction last night? The reality of that moment was now a little daunting in the cold light of day."Come now, don't be shy," Phillip
Ella followed Mr. Boucher through the house as he escorted her to her chambers for the night. Most of the furniture was covered in cloth to protect from sunlight and dust. Many of the tall paned windows throughout the house were shuttered, effectively sealing off the rooms from light and life. This beautiful house had been emptied of people. Closed off, just like its master.They passed into one of the few more well-lit rooms, a long hall with paintings of fine-faced men and women. She glanced up at more than one of the portraits, seeing Phillip's eyes or chin, even his nose in several of the ancestors upon the walls."Mr. Boucher.""Yes, Lady Ella?""Is he in much pain?" She was perhaps indelicate to inquire about Phillip's injuries in such a way, but she needed answers.Boucher paused to look at her in the moonlight. Whatever he seemed to be looking for he must have found."Yes. In the beginning, he couldn't walk. He lay in bed for several weeks, only moving with the aid of oth
Phillip sat in the faded armchair in his study, staring into the crackling fire in the fireplace. His left leg ached, especially during the damp winter months. He rubbed his thigh, squeezing the muscles, and then farther down to his shin and calf. The muscles were still weak from the lack of use. But it hurt too much to walk, so he did so only when necessary.A sound from the hall below caught his attention. Voices. Who the devil could Boucher be talking to? They'd reduced the staff over the last year, mainly because he had shut up most of the house since he remained close to his bedchamber and never entertained. He sat up a little in his chair, listening to the sounds of a woman. The pair of maids he still employed were likely on the first floor of the house at the farthest end where the other bedchambers were or in the kitchens."Boucher?" he called out, but his voice was hoarse since he hadn't used it in what felt like days. He hadn't had occasion to see anyone or truly talk to an
One year later"If I have to listen to one more man explain to me that business and politics are not things to concern myself with," Ella growled over the rim of her teacup."It is most frustrating," her friend, Audrey St. Laurent, agreed. "I often say some men need a good whack to the heador between their legs, depending on the man."Ella snickered but then sighed as her mood deflated again."What's truly bothering you?" Audrey inquired.Ella glanced about Audrey's morning room, seeking a distraction from her mortification, but they were alone. A fire crackled in the hearth, and sunlight glinted off the snow outside. It was a perfectly lovely day, which made her black mood all the worse."At one and twenty, it seems I'm now to attract the worst sort of men. I was at Lady Hearst's ball last evening, and every single man I danced with lectured me about how fortunate I was to even be dancing at my age. To make it worse, the younger ladies have taken offense at my being there. More