The Viscount's Rose (The Farthingale Series Book 5) Read online

  “No!” This wasn’t a ploy. She truly despaired of losing him, and she would lose him forever if she let him go now. This idiotic seduction scheme was having an unintended effect, making him want to run as fast as he could from her instead of keeping him here longer. She had to tell him how she felt. Enough of those silly feminine wiles that she didn’t understand how to use in the first place.

  “Please, Julian.” Her breath was now ragged and she sounded desperate to her own ears. “Please give us one more day together. Just one. If this is all I’m to have of you, then grant me this one request.” She felt tears well in her eyes and she blinked to fight them back. Her heart was breaking but she didn’t want him to know it, for she didn’t quite understand this intensity of feeling she held for the man.

  Tears began to slide down her cheeks. Perfect, now he was sure to run as fast as he could from here… from her.

  She started to turn away, but he took her gently by the shoulders and held her in a way that forced her to face him. “I’m so sorry, Rose.” He drew her into his arms. “I never meant to hurt you. I hope you know that.”

  She nodded against his chest and sniffled. “I know.”

  He sighed. “But I did hurt you badly. You’re crying.”

  She nodded again. “I’m trying not to. It isn’t your fault that I like you and don’t want you to leave. Everything feels right when I’m with you, but you must have that effect on all young ladies because you’re so handsome and smart, but most of all you’re kind and decent.”

  “I’m not. I’ve taken unpardonable advantage of you.”

  “And I’ve encouraged you.”

  “You’re innocent and trusting, which makes what I just did to you all the more despicable.” She felt his knuckles graze against her cheek in a caress and then he began to stroke her hair, winding his fingers in her long strands.

  “Please stay, Julian. All I ask is for one more day.”

  He shook his head and groaned. She thought he was about to pull away, but he must have changed his mind, for he drew her more firmly against his chest and held her in his arms for a long and splendid moment. “This is a mistake, but… very well. No one’s expecting me back in London yet.”

  “You’ll stay?”

  He kissed her lightly on the forehead. “Lord help us both. I’ll stay.”

  CHAPTER 7

  JULIAN SLEPT FITFULLY into the wee hours of the morning, tossing and turning and lying awake for hours at a time staring at the full moon glistening outside his window until it began to fade against the early morning light. He ought to have left for London when he had the chance, but he desperately wanted more time with Rose.

  An epic tactical mistake on his part.

  He knew it was, and yet he remained eager to charge into the fray, said fray being Rose’s outrageously sensual body. But it was much more than mere physical desire on his part, for as much as he felt right for her—or so Rose had claimed—she also felt undeniably right for him. The sight of her standing alone in the library, clad in a thin night rail that hid nothing of her slender body, her golden locks curling about her hips, had stopped him dead in his tracks.

  The last of his control had fled the moment the sleeve had slipped off her cream-white shoulder. She’d looked delicate and frail, and he ought to have acted the gentleman and left right then and there. Instead, every beastly urge ignited within him.

  His desire inflamed, he’d become an unthinking brute, needing to claim her, possess her, wanting to make her his own.

  He’d never lost control like this before, never felt the ravenous urges Rose aroused in him. He’d hungrily kissed and tasted and stroked her beautiful body and he was still starved for her.

  He flung off the covers and rose naked from his bed, yawning and stretching, and praying for the strength not to make a fool of himself today. One more day and then he’d be gone. Of course, the passing hours in her company would be nothing but torment and torture for him. This was his cursed fate, to be tempted beyond resistance by the one thing he could not have… not yet.

  He drew aside the curtains and winced as the now bright sun shone into his eyes. “Bloody nuisance.”

  After hastily washing and dressing, he made his way downstairs to the dining room. It was still early. Hopefully no one else was awake yet and he could quietly sip his coffee and muster his defenses against the girl.

  “There you are, Julian,” his uncle joyfully chortled as he entered. “We were beginning to think you’d abandoned us all and slipped off to London in the middle of the night.”

  Eight faces around the dining table were all gaping at him—his five irritating siblings and the wonderful aunt and uncle who’d shown him nothing but support and kindness. But the face that captured his attention was that of Rose. She looked so incredibly vulnerable, like a doe caught in a hunter’s trap, that he ached for what he had done to her last night.

  But that didn’t stop his beastly urges from surging to the fore, making him want to do the very same thing to her again, only this time he’d properly finish the job he’d started and rouse this expressively passionate girl to…

  He groaned inwardly.

  Hell, did Rose have any notion what she was doing to him?

  “Don’t just stand there, Julian. Take a seat,” his uncle commanded with another chortle. “I forbid you to leave us until you’ve sampled the fare set out before you. I’m sure you’ll find a tempting morsel. You have only to open your eyes and look.”

  Did the old rogue suspect his feelings for Rose? Bloody nuisance. He hoped he wasn’t that obvious.

  Rose fidgeted, regaining his attention. In truth, she’d never lost it. He couldn’t look away or think of anyone else but her.

  “No, I’m here for the entire day. I’ll leave for London tomorrow morning.” He settled into the only empty seat at the table, which happened to be beside Rose, no doubt purposely contrived by his meddlesome family. If only they realized just how aware he already was of the girl.

  His siblings cast him the warmest smiles.

  “Can we go on a picnic today?” Emily asked, her big eyes wide with excitement. She was seated on the other side of Rose so she had to lean her little body forward to be seen by him. “By the pond?”

  He couldn’t disappoint her. Lord, he loved the little nuisance. “Of course.” He leaned forward as well and reached out to tweak her nose, ever aware of Rose seated between them and looking lovelier than any young lady of marriageable age had a right to look. A light blush stained her cheeks as he leaned closer. “Sounds perfect, Em. And as your reward for coming up with such a clever idea, I’ll carry you on my shoulders all the way to pond.”

  The little urchin squealed with delight.

  Rose smiled at him.

  He wanted to kiss her.

  He cleared his throat instead. “I’ll have Cook make up a basket for us. The footmen can bring chairs for you,” he said, turning to his aunt and uncle.

  “No, Julian.” His aunt glanced at her husband. “We’ll forego the pleasure this time. Your uncle isn’t feeling quite himself this morning.”

  Julian frowned. “Nothing wrong, I hope.”

  “No, no. Just a little inflammation, but you go have fun with the children. They miss you so much when you’re not around. I wouldn’t dream of spoiling their pleasure.”

  He nodded, but remained worried. “Uncle, let me know if you start to feel worse. I’ll pack us up and take you all back to London this very—”

  “No!” Everyone cried out at once, sounding like a chorus of frantic hens.

  He held up his hands in surrender. “What’s the matter with all of you? I get it. You needn’t render me deaf. Nobody wants to return to London.”

  “We hate London,” Emily said with a vehement pout.

  Julian frowned again. Had something happened to his family that he was not aware of? Had someone tried to harm them? Anger burned inside him, not only at the possibility but at himself for being so immersed in protecting k
ing and country that he’d neglected his own precious siblings. “Why don’t you like it, Emily?”

  “Because Nicola said that something dreadful will happen if we—”

  Rose sneezed. And sneezed again. “Forgive me. Something’s tickling my nose. Emily, is it you?” She tickled Emily, who giggled and squealed and forgot the rest of what she was about to tell him.

  He wanted to press his sister on the topic, but she chose that moment to forego her pout. Instead, her smile was suddenly as brilliant as sunshine. She clambered onto Rose’s lap and gave her an emphatic hug. “I love you, Rose.”

  “Oh, Emily. Sweetheart, I love you too. I have a wonderful idea. What if I take you outside and draw a portrait of you among the flowers.”

  Kendra’s eyes lit up. “Oh, me too!”

  Rose had a devastatingly gentle smile for his sisters. “Of course.”

  Robert and Callum scrambled to their feet. “Will you draw me as a pirate?” Callum asked.

  Robert wasn’t about to be outdone. “Me too!”

  Rose laughed and shook her head. “Come along, all of you. Meet me in the rear garden. I’ll run upstairs and fetch my sketching book and pencils.”

  Julian set down his coffee cup and lifted Emily out of Rose’s arms and held her. “Shall Rose draw you as a tulip? Or a bluebell? Or a bright red poppy?”

  “A red poppy! I want everyone to notice me, especially you, Julian. Will you carry the picture of me with you wherever you go? I don’t want you to forget me.”

  He tried not to sound too serious, but her words had affected him. “Em, silly. I would never forget you. Don’t you know that I carry you in my heart always? When Rose is done with your portrait I’ll hang it in my entry hall so that everyone sees your bright red poppy face when they walk in.”

  “When my sisters were younger,” Rose said, smiling at him as she drew back her chair and stood, “I drew them as the flowers after which they were named. Laurel, Daisy, Lily, and Daffodil. My parents had the drawings framed and placed them in our entry hall at Coniston.”

  Kendra appeared distraught. “But what about you, Rose? Do they not have one of you?”

  She rolled her eyes and emitted a mirthful laugh. “Yes, I drew one of myself. But I had to look at myself in the mirror to do it, so it wasn’t quite perfect. My eyes came out like this.” She mimicked a cross-eyed expression that looked silly and adorable.

  “I’m sure it was lovely,” Julian’s aunt said and his entire family quickly agreed.

  His brothers and sisters ran into the garden while Rose and Nicola went upstairs to fetch her sketchbook and pencils.

  Julian was left alone with his aunt and uncle. “She’s quite something,” his aunt said quietly, but the words struck him hard. Of course, Rose was wonderful. A man would have to be a monumental fool not to notice. In truth, he was surprised that a legion of eager young bucks hadn’t followed her to Darnley Cottage armed with flowers and poems of unrequited love.

  They might still come.

  He shifted uncomfortably. “I’ll sit out on the terrace and watch her work.”

  He felt their eyes on him as he strode out and settled in one of the wrought iron chairs that overlooked the cottage garden. He distracted himself from thoughts of Rose by watching the children run along the garden paths. They now appeared joyful and carefree. So what was this nonsense about not wishing to return to London?

  Was it simply that they enjoyed the country? Or was there a more sinister reason?

  Nicola and Rose soon joined them, interrupting his thoughts. They both had put on floppy straw hats to shade their faces from the summer sun. He studied Rose. All he could see were her big blue eyes and her heartwarming smile. She wore a pale lavender gown that managed, despite its demure simplicity, to draw his attention straight to her breasts. Perhaps it was merely his beastly instincts flaring again.

  He couldn’t be around the girl without his body catching fire.

  It wasn’t his fault that she had a perfect body.

  Bloody nuisance. He was in serious trouble. I need to leave tonight. He’d still have an hour or two of daylight left if he rode out after supper.

  Rose, thankfully unaware of his turmoil, turned away from him and began to issue instructions to the children. They gathered around her like bees to a hive as she settled under a shady chestnut tree, opened her tin box of pencils, and turned to an empty page in her sketchbook.

  He couldn’t hear what she was saying as she spoke softly, but she must have been instructing his sisters, for they nodded and began to pose. All three of them, even independent and headstrong Nicola, appeared quite earnest and eager to please. They obeyed her without the slightest protest, something he found quite extraordinary since they rarely obeyed him and never unquestioningly.

  Rose worked the same magic on his brothers, having them strike poses and hold them at length, which he thought quite a remarkable feat on her part because these boys were bodies of perpetual motion and no one, until this very moment, had ever succeeded in holding them still.

  Julian sat forward, intrigued by the power Rose held over him and his entire family. Finally, he stood up and strolled to the chestnut tree. “Mind if I watch while you draw?”

  She peeked up from under the brim of her hat and blushed as he knelt beside her. He liked that little touch of pink on her cheeks, a telltale sign that he affected her. “These are just rough sketches, mind you. Nothing fancy. Just some ideas I thought the children might like.”

  She appeared reluctant to show him what she’d done, but he leaned closer and plucked the sketchbook from her slender fingers.

  He glanced at the top portraits and inhaled sharply. “Rose, these are incredible.” She’d drawn his brothers in various poses as pirates, capturing their youthful enthusiasm even as she fashioned those imps into rough and tumble blackguards with swords and eye patches.

  Her blush deepened.

  He turned the pages and laughed heartily. “You’re amazing. They’re beautiful.” She’d drawn his sisters not simply beside the flower beds, but as little flowers themselves, capturing the innocent radiance of their faces, even Nicola, who was far too knowledgeable about matters no young innocent ought to know about. Fortunately, her knowledge had been gleaned from books and not actual firsthand experience or he would have been forced to badly maim any young buck caught circling around her. That he’d behaved worse toward Rose was of no moment. His intentions were honorable, even if his thoughts were not. “I’m engaging you for the earl’s portrait.”

  “And yours,” Nicola interjected. “You ought to be painted while you’re young and handsome, not when you’re old, fat, and bald.”

  He shook his head and laughed. “Ah, Nicola. Ever my champion.”

  His sister poked him. “Can you draw him, Rose? Now, in this garden.”

  Rose’s smile faltered. “Perhaps another time. I see the servants carrying out our picnic basket. Shall we walk to the pond?”

  “An excellent idea.” He grabbed Emily and hoisted her onto his shoulders, wincing only slightly as she gleefully shrieked into his ear. Kendra bounced along beside him, while the boys ran ahead, pushing and shoving each other because merely walking side by side was a concept that was foreign to them.

  Nicola and Rose followed behind him and when he looked back, he noticed that Rose had brought along her sketchbook and pencils, no doubt to capture his siblings at play beside the pond and in the Cotswolds countryside.

  He tried not to think of the girl or how truly talented she was. No wonder those pottery ruffians were quaking in their boots. She wasn’t merely talented, but a rare treasure. It would take a special sort of man to encourage her dreams and not stifle them. He refused to consider that he might be that man.

  But he sure as hell wasn’t letting anyone else assume that role.

  His thoughts lingered on Rose during their walk until he was distracted by his idiot brothers, who thought it would be great fun to jump into the pond fully clothed, withou
t even bothering to take off their boots. In the next moment, Callum was out of the water and holding a fish in his palms, chasing after Kendra and trying to drop it on her head.

  “For the love of—” He set Emily down on the grass next to Rose and ran after a shrieking Kendra and a soaking wet Callum, who was fiendishly dangling the fish from his fingers. “Give me that, you mushrump.”

  Kendra was still shrieking and running in circles around Nicola and Rose. Callum tore straight for them and would have run Rose down if Julian hadn’t caught the little wretch in time and hauled him over his shoulder. “Julian, put me down!”

  “With pleasure.” He tossed his brother back into the pond and grinned when the little pest landed with a yelp and a loud splash. Rose picked up the fish his brother had dropped and tossed it back into the water. “The poor little thing was flailing on the ground. I couldn’t let it die.”

  He was still staring at her as she stood beside him when Callum began to splash him with a vengeance, soaking them both.

  Rose gasped, but instead of scolding Callum, she laughingly kicked off her slippers and hiked her muslin gown up to her knees, revealing long, slender legs. “You’ll get yours, you dastardly pirate,” she teased and began to wade into the water after the boy.

  Julian stood ready to intercede if his brother forgot she was a girl and played too rough, but it wasn’t necessary now. In any event, he liked Rose’s unaffected playfulness and wasn’t keen on reminding her that debutantes were not supposed to do this sort of thing. As he stood watching, his other siblings, including Nicola, followed Rose into the pond and did a commendable job of dousing Callum.

  “Come in, Julian,” Robert called to him. “The water’s delightful.”

  “I’m quite comfortable where I am.” But he took a step back from the shore as the menacing young horde began to approach. They’d grown bored with dunking Callum and obviously intended to turn their aim on him.