Courting His Countess (A Historical Romance Novella) (8 page)

It had been a mistake to bring her to court.
He could see that now. He'd wanted her with him, wanted her at his
side to show the world how lucky he was and how stupid he'd been,
but he'd not taken her feelings into consideration. Selfish fool.
He should have let her stay home like she wanted to. Now their
relationship had gone backwards because of it.

"Rose." He went to take her hands but she
put them behind her back. "Rose, please. Six years ago I was an
impetuous youth eaten up by revenge. I betrayed you and I am sorry.
So very sorry."

"Your words are simply that, Thomas. Just
words. I promised myself I would not allow my heart to be broken by
them again."

He broke her heart? Oh God. That
meant...that meant she'd cared for him once, perhaps even loved
him. It made his betrayal all the more terrible.

"Rose." He reached for her again, but she
spun around and walked away. She sat on the window seat and stared
into the darkness beyond. She didn't want him near, but he knelt
beside her anyway. He had to say this. Had to, or he would always
regret it. "Do you know why I came home now, in winter, when it
would have been wiser to wait for spring?" She said nothing so he
forged on. "I wanted to apologize. I've tried to do it for six
years, but you didn't answer my letters. So when the queen gave me
permission to return after Father's death, I took the first ship
out of Ireland and came straight home."

She kept her hands to herself so he touched
her skirt and rubbed the soft velvet between his fingers. It was as
close to her as he dared get. "It wasn't until we set sail that I
began to have doubts. I was afraid that I might inadvertently
punish you again in order to get revenge upon your father. You know
that's why I did it, don't you? I was furious with Wallan for the
way he tricked Father out of the estate, and I hated being
manipulated by him into marrying you to raise his standing at
court. I grew afraid that the anger would return when I saw him,
and I didn't want to hurt you again. I'd already done enough."

She looked so calm, so peaceful, it was as
if she couldn't even hear him. As if she'd shut herself off.

"I'm so sorry, Rose." He stood and backed
away to the door. She didn't turn to him, didn't blink, didn't seem
to be breathing at all. He paused at the door, his hand on the
knob. "Perhaps in time you can forgive me, or perhaps not. It
doesn't matter, because I'll never forgive myself."

She turned to him then and blinked, slowly,
as if she had just woken from a long sleep. "I will receive you
again back at Lockhart." Then she once more looked out the
window.

He left and reached his own rooms although
God knows how he made it when his heart felt like it had broken
into a million pieces and his feet felt too heavy to move. He
ordered his servant to leave and collapsed on the bed, burying his
face in the pillow. He welcomed the misery that had threatened to
envelope him ever since leaving Rose's rooms.

Much later, he undressed and returned to
bed. He lay on his back and tried to think through the fog in his
mind. He'd done everything. Said everything. What else could he do
to win her forgiveness?

Somehow he didn't think time was going to
heal the deep wounds he'd inflicted. So what would?

CHAPTER 11

As with the last two nights, Annie had a
gown ready for Rose to wear on New Year's Eve. It took Rose's
breath away.

"The seamstress sewed the pearls onto the
bodice today, according to His Lordship," Annie said, her watchful
gaze on Rose. "He said it wasn't lovely enough to be worn by his
exquisite wife without them. That's what he called you, his
exquisite wife." She blinked hard but not before Rose saw the tears
in her eyes.

At least someone could cry. Rose had not
been able to in the two days since Thomas had given his latest
apology. Her heart and head felt numb. It was as if a bubble
surrounded her and his words had fallen on them only to bounce off.
She heard them but she couldn't
feel
them.

"Thank you, Annie, it is a beautiful
gown."

"Aye. Are you ready, my lady?"

Rose nodded. She had pleaded illness the
previous night and the gown Thomas had provided for her to wear to
the evening's entertainments went unworn. It was nothing compared
to the one he'd procured for her for the New Year's Eve ball. The
cloth of silver bodice and forepart were embroidered with pale blue
thread and dotted with the newly added pearls. The sleeves and
overskirt complimented them beautifully in pale blue silk with
silver embroidery. A ruff fanned out behind her neck, leaving her
throat and décolletage bare. Perfect to display her Christmas gift
from her husband.

"The necklace please, Annie."

With a little sigh of pleasure, Annie placed
the gold band around Rose's neck. Rose wiped her thumb over the
sapphire nestled against her bust like a fat tear. It was already
warm from the heat of the room and her skin.

"He won't be able to take his eyes off you
tonight, my lady," Annie said, smiling sadly. "No man will. Better
watch Her Majesty doesn't get jealous."

"Annie, hold your tongue. These walls have
ears."

Once her hair was fixed in place, Rose went
in search of her husband. She didn't find him in the great hall
where dozens of couples danced the Galliard. Nor was he in the
library or the nearby rooms. Perhaps he was still in his rooms or
outside or...oh lord, where
was
he? Panic churned her gut.
Thomas was her rock at court, the one solid thing in a strange,
ever-shifting world. Why had he left her?

She stopped her search in the roofed gallery
running alongside the courtyard. The cold wind snapped at her
cheeks and bare shoulders and teased her hair in an attempt to
dislodge the pins. Snow twirled more erratically than any of the
dancers inside and finally settled on the flagstones at the
gallery's edge. It was freezing but Rose breathed deeply, dampening
the fear clutching at her insides. A gentleman strode past, bowed
politely and asked if he could be of assistance. She shook her head
and walked away. She looked out to the courtyard, lit by torches
fighting for survival in the wind and snow, but there was no one
there who resembled her husband. No one tall enough, commanding
enough, handsome enough. She stamped down on the dense foreboding
as it welled again.

"Ah, there you are, Lady Avondale."

Rose lifted her eyes to the gallery's
ceiling and prayed for resilience. "What do you want, Lady
Mossdale?"

"Oh dear, you sound quite upset. Is there
something I can do?" The towering beauty's smile wasn't at all
sympathetic or comforting. It was malicious. She was up to
something.

Rose turned on a smile to match. "I was
simply taking in the air."

"Oh? Not looking for your husband?"

"Do you know where he is?" Rose winced at
how desperate she sounded. There was no doubt it was the question
Temperance wanted her to ask and doing what the wasp wanted was the
last thing Rose liked to do.

Temperance waved a hand at the door. The
garnets in each of her rings flashed red in the flickering
torchlight. "He's with the queen and her advisors in the audience
chamber. Shall we wait for him together?"

"Thank you, but I'll go to him on my own."
Rose ignored the arm Temperance offered and strode past her.

"You can't go into the audience chamber
uninvited."

Rose walked on, back into the great hall
where the fiddle and lute wove merry tunes for the dancers, and fat
gentlemen stood at tables overflowing with comfits, tarts and
cakes. She felt their eyes on her and she wished her gown was more
demure. She wished she was anywhere but at Richmond Palace with its
idle, indulged nobles and their constant desire for
entertainment.

She strode toward the guarded audience
chamber, the sense of foreboding congealing in her stomach.
Something was wrong. What had Lady Mossdale done?

But when she saw her father hovering at the
large double doors to the audience chamber, she suspected she had
blamed the wrong person. "Father, what's happening?"

He grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her
aside. The guards didn't move, didn't blink. She might as well not
have been there. "Don't ruin this," her father snapped.

"Ruin what?" She tried to wrench herself
free but couldn't.

"I have placed a great opportunity in his
lap," he said through an unmoving jaw. "I've worked tirelessly for
this for months, do not destroy it with your female meddling."

"What. Have. You. Done?"

"I've done what any good father would do.
I've already made you a countess, now I'll make you rich beyond our
wildest dreams."

"We already have a lot of money. The
Avondale lands are extensive and—"

His fingers twisted around her arm,
bruising. She bit her lip to stop from crying out. "Don’t be a
fool," he said. "You can never be rich enough. Ask that divine Lady
Mossdale. You're too much like your mother, too stupid for your own
good. Lucky you have me to look after your interests."

"What do you know of
my
interests?
You're nothing but a greedy, self-centered man. My interests have
never entered into your plans. So tell me,
what have you
done
?"

His mouth twisted into a harsh grin.
"Imagine, with the richest earl in the kingdom as my son-in-law,
I'll be treated like royalty. They'll all clamor to me. I used to
think I needed you and he to be here, at court. I know now that
there's a better way."

He was mad. He had to be. Mad with greed.
"Father, stop this and tell me what is happening in there."

But the doors opened before he had a chance
to speak and Thomas emerged. His face was closed tight, his lips
white. The eyes that clamped on Rose were filled with such deep
sadness and longing that she was almost undone. Almost.

"Thomas?" she whispered. "What is it?"

He took both her hands. They were cool and
shook ever so slightly. "Rose," he murmured, "I've failed you. I'm
so sorry." The hopelessness in his voice clawed at her heart. It
wasn't natural on him.

"What's happened?"

"I told you I wouldn't leave you. But..." He
cleared his throat. "I have been commanded to return to Ireland in
the spring."

A cold shiver slid through her and wrapped
ice fingers around her bones. No. No! She had just got him back,
just discovered he was good and kind and gentle, not odious and
cruel. And she'd come to realize that she didn't want to live
without him. She didn't need his love in return, she just needed
him
.

"Father." She spun round to face Wallan once
more. The old man was smiling. Smiling! "
You
did this." His
conversations with Lord Burghley, his avoidance of Rose since their
arrival at Richmond...he'd orchestrated it.

"Your husband forgot to mention the part
about his doubled wage," Wallan said. "You can pay me a fee as
thanks and find it in your hearts to give me a loan. You owe me
now."

"We owe you nothing," Rose spat.

But her father didn't seem to hear her. "I
knew Burghley would agree to it. Now perhaps he'll see the value of
my counsel and seek it more often instead of dismissing me." He
thrust out his chest and his jowls wobbled as his smile
broadened.

Rose wanted to scratch his merry eyes out.
"I hate you!"

Thomas was fast. He slipped his arm around
her waist and held her firmly against him so that she could not get
close enough to strike her father. "He's not worth it," he murmured
into her ear. The steady beat of his heart at her back calmed her
and she relaxed into him, despite her anger.

"That's it, Avondale, control that little
vixen lest she ruin her reputation further."

Rose became aware of people staring, one of
them being Lady Mossdale. She didn't care. Let them stare. Let them
see her at her worst. What did it matter now?

Thomas was leaving. Nothing mattered
anymore.

"I never want to see you again," she said to
Wallan, her voice rasping. "You are not welcome at Lockhart
Castle."

"Nothing's changed then."

Thomas's arm tightened.

A thought seeped into Rose's mind but it was
too elusive and slippery and she couldn’t catch it, not with anger
ruling her.

"Listen to your master for once, Daughter,
and do as you're told. Be silent and accept this as the opportunity
it is."

"It is not the opportunity I want," she
said.

"Nonsense." Wallan threw out his arms to
encompass the room, the courtiers. "All this is ours. Take it. Go
on. Take it with me. Use some of that charm you've kept for your
husband on these people and we'll rule this court."

"You and I will not be seen together here or
anywhere." She had so many more things to say to him but Thomas
stepped between them and took her face in his hands. He kissed her
lightly on the lips and caressed her cheeks with his thumbs. She
was vaguely aware of murmurs drifting around them like the snow,
and she welcomed them. Let them talk.

Then Thomas stopped kissing her and turned
to Wallan. "I will give you an annuity if you tell Burghley and Her
Majesty that you made a mistake. You have Burghley's ear it seems
and I have faith in your persuasive powers. If you are successful,
you'll have your annuity. If not, then you'll get nothing and I'll
return to Ireland."

"No," Rose said, shaking her head over and
over. "We'll give him nothing. He doesn't deserve it, not after
everything he's done."

"We must. I'm not angry with him anymore,
not enough that I'll jeopardize this last ray of hope."

She looked up at him, her heart in her
throat and her eyes as full as swollen lakes. "How can you not be
angry when he drove a wedge between us all those years ago? He
poisoned this marriage before it had even begun."