Valentine's Rose (6 page)

But he’d let Rose stay here.
Thoughtless
wasn’t a strong enough word.

She’d hardly uttered a sound since they’d left the dining room. Jitters. His insides danced, as well, for a different reason.

“You’ll be comfortable here?”

The question elicited a nod.

Nevertheless, he would find her better accommodations before he left town.

Someone had piled a wad of blankets on the first bed. Open trunks and cases were scattered about on the floor. Val gestured to the divider on the far side of the room. “Our space is over there I presume.”

He scooted the screen to make room for them the pass through, noted the same arrangement with one addition. “We have a window.”

“And a bed—” Rose averted her eyes. “Er, what I mean is, sleepin’ in a bed is better than sleepin’ on the floor...”

If she kept blushing like that, he’d have to remove her clothes so he could see if those blushes colored other areas of her skin.

No, he would keep his hands off her. In fact, he would leave the hotel tonight. Everyone would know they weren’t living together as man and wife and it would embarrass her. But after he’d departed, her unquestionable purity would work in her favor.

The time had come to break the news...gently. He lifted his hands to cup her shoulders, and then dropped them to his sides. Touching her wouldn’t make it hurt less, and it would tempt him to do more than just talk.

“Rose, you won’t have to stay here for long—”

She spun to face him with a happy smile. “Tis is a fine place, Val, and all that matters is that we’re together.”

Her simple declaration slipped between his ribs like a well-placed saber thrust. He had to suck in a breath before he could go on.

“We won’t.”

“Won’t?” Wide eyes searched his.

“Be together.” For some awful reason he couldn’t speak in more than two-word sentences.

“Ah. We don’t have much time before everyone comes upstairs, you mean?” Her gaze dropped to his mouth and hunger flared in the green depths. “Do you want to...? Will ye please...?” The last three words came out in a soft whisper. “Kiss me again?”

Every muscle in his body tightened. Primitive signals raced to nerve endings and the blood in his veins thickened and heated. He stared at her parted lips, mesmerized. Her mouth was only a few inches away, so easy to reach. There ought to be a reason he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t think past the need pounding through him.

Her eyelids lowered to half-mast. He cradled her head at the same time she looped her arms around his middle. He didn’t have to draw her to him. Their lips met as if magnetized.

How long they stood there kissing, he didn’t know. It could’ve been a minute or an hour. He’d lost track of time, lost all sense of everything but how sweet she tasted and her supple body. His hands roved freely over womanly curves, and she didn’t lift a finger to stop him. Instead, she leaned into him when his fingers shaped her breasts through the silk bodice.

Her ripeness and eagerness, combined with a sweet innocence, stoked the fire burning in his loins until it became a roaring blaze. He grew desperate to remove her clothes, layer-by-layer, until he reached smooth skin and breasts with tips as rosy as her cheeks.

She laid her hand on his jaw, slid her fingers upward over his ear, threading them through his hair, tentative at first, and then with more confidence. Stroking. Her sighs accompanied his guttural moans as pleasure rippled over his scalp and fanned out across his shoulders, chest and back. Desire tightened his groin and squeezed until he gasped.

Val fought a mindless urge to bear her to bed, toss up her skirts and plunge into her, over and over, until he’d released the inferno.

“Mama?” A child’s voice penetrated the sensual haze.

Alarm arrested lust.
Good God.

Val ripped his lips away, at the same time protectively folding his wife against his pounding heart. He swiveled his head in the direction of the voice.

A young boy peeked around the end of the divider, the same boy who’d escorted Rose. Had he followed them up here?

Anger boiled up, joining the stew of uncomfortable emotions, including a heavy spoonful of guilt. Val turned his ire on the intruder. “What are you doing in here?”

“No, don’t scare him...” Rose wriggled out of Val’s embrace and went immediately to the boy. “Danny? Are ye all right, darlin’? Does yer mother know where ye are?”

The child blinked at her, stupefied. His hair stuck up on one side like he’d been sleeping on it. Val’s conscience tweaked him. He shouldn’t have been so harsh.

“Got tired.” Danny rubbed his eyes with a fist.

“I imagine you did, after travelin’ so far, and all this excitement.” Rose ran her fingers through the child’s tufted hair, smoothing it into place in a gesture that seemed as natural to her as breathing. “Is that yer stomach makin’ that noise? I saw some sandwiches downstairs, and there might be a piece of pie left...”

Danny tugged his coat into place. After throwing a worried look in Val’s direction, he raced out the door.

Val muttered an oath under his breath. He should’ve thanked the lad, not scolded. If not for the timely intervention, he might’ve had Rose unclothed by now, or worse. That would’ve ended any hope of giving her a respectable annulment. No matter how much he lusted after her, he couldn’t act on his urges, not anymore. He’d sworn to control his spontaneous nature and not ruin another person’s life.

If he took Rose home with him, his family and those who moved in their circles would shun her. It would be beyond cruel to expose her to that kind of ridicule. Sweet as she was, she could never fit into his life. She’d be better off here, in western America, where people didn’t care about bloodlines.

His responsibilities awaited him in England. He’d return, possibly win back Anne, if she’d forgive him for jilting her. He still wasn’t sure why he’d done it. He’d wanted her for years. But for the life of him, he couldn’t bring Anne’s image to mind. Not when Rose approached, her face flushed and her lips curved up in a welcoming smile.

“Poor Danny. He’s not sat down since we got off the train. I’m surprised he woke up. But he’s gone now...” In other words, she wanted to take up where they’d left off.

Val reached to straighten his tie. She’d undone the bow. He’d undone more than that. He stared in horror at her gaping bodice. Good God, had he done that? Through the thin camisole, he could see the outline of her breasts, pushed up by a tight corset.

His mouth grew cotton.

She glanced down, appeared surprised, and then covered her mouth, stifling a giggle. “Don’t suppose he noticed.”

Val shook his head, disbelieving. If a beautiful woman had thrust her barely covered breasts in his face when he was seven, he would’ve noticed. “He has eyes.”

Something in his expression made her smile vanish. She tugged her bodice together and fumbled with the buttons. “I’m sorry. It’s not very ladylike...”

No, he would not have her chastise herself for his misbehavior. He caught her hands. “Rose, you did nothing wrong. I’m the one who’s to blame for unbuttoning your dress.”

The distress on her face faded. “You’re me husband, Val. That gives you the right to unbutton anythin’ you want...” A smile teased the corners of her mouth. “As long as I’m the one wearin’ it.”

His heart gave a hard twist in his chest. He’d be the lowest cad to take advantage of Rose’s sweet vulnerability. He had to extract himself from this marriage before he injured her so badly she would find it impossible to heal. Whatever pain he suffered in the process was no more than he deserved.

He gave her hands a gentle squeeze. “Sweet Rose. I have no rights where you’re concerned. We entered into this marriage quickly...too quickly. But I promise, I’ll set things right. As soon as I sell my property, I’ll set up a fund for you. Ensure you can be independent, go anywhere you’d like, marry anyone you want. You’ll have something more valuable than a forced marriage. You’ll have your freedom.”

––––––––

R
ose gaped at him, struck dumb with astonishment, which was followed by a sick pitch of her stomach. With just a few words, Val destroyed her new life. Like the fire that had raged through the apartment building where she’d lived, killing the last two people on earth she most loved and who loved her, leaving her without a family or a place to belong. Val had taken everything away and left her with nothing. Nothing she truly wanted.

A tremor started in her chest and moved down her arms to her hands. She withdrew them from his grasp before he felt them shaking. He didn’t try to hold on, which just reinforced what he’d told her, that he was ending their marriage, giving her
freedom
, which sounded more like he was paying her to go away.

“Rose?” The concern on his face didn’t match the cruel words that had just fallen from his lips. “You look pale. Sit down before you swoon.”

She shook her head. “Tis no swoon I feel, I’m
alamort
.”

“Alamort?”

He wouldn’t know the slang from the world she’d grown up in. Neither would anyone else, so she’d have to remember to speak regular English.

“Confounded.”

She turned and walked past the bed she’d thought they would be sharing, crossed over to the window. The sun blinded her as it fell into the horizon. She felt as if she were falling, too. Falling, her wings on fire, when just a moment ago she’d been soaring. They hadn’t been wed more than two hours and already Val regretted it.

A fearful thought sent her hands to the bodice of the borrowed dress. She touched the buttons to make sure she’d secured them. Val might’ve been disgusted when she’d paraded her goods in front of Danny. She wasn’t a loose goose, like he must think. Could be that’s why he decided he didn’t want her.

The small hairs on her arms and neck prickled, same as what had happened downstairs when he’d come up behind her. Strange, how she’d never been so aware of anyone in her life, and yet he could release her as easy as opening his hand.

“Rose.” His low, cultured voice vibrated over her. She hugged her arms, desperate to stop her body’s quivering response. How pathetic she must appear, trembling over the sound of her name on his lips.

“I didn’t mean to...” he started.

Now he would tell her he’d never wanted her, not even a little bit. Heat scalded her cheeks. “You don’t have to apologize. I know you didn’t mean to kiss me.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.” His tone held a hint of annoyance. “I meant to kiss you, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to kiss you again.”

He didn’t want her, but he wanted her. He wasn’t making any sense, or maybe she was too dull-witted to understand. If he wanted to kiss her again, he had only to touch her, anywhere, and she would turn into his arms.

“What I’m trying to say,” his tone turned soft, regretful. “I never meant to hurt you.”

He’d given her hope and then ripped it away, and he thought it wouldn’t hurt?

Misery clogged her throat. She swallowed, so her voice wouldn’t come out wobbly and weak. “What did you think I would feel?”

For a moment, he went silent. He hadn’t expected the question, or worse, hadn’t even thought about how this might affect her.  “There’s no excuse, I know. I should’ve made clear my reasons for entering into marriage.”

That wasn’t how he’d deceived her. “Oh, your reasons were clear enough. I knew you was marrying me so you could get Mr. Hardt to sign over that property. I just didn’t know you weren’t planning on staying married. That’s why you wouldn’t agree to
as long as you both shall live
.”

“I didn’t want to lie.”

He thought hedging on this detail absolved him? Anger swept in, giving her a brief respite from her misery and the strength to face him. “You lied when you said
I do
.”

His lips tightened and his face muscles froze. Now she knew where the phrase “stiff upper lip” came from, these unfeeling Englishmen. Oh, there might be a flicker of regret in those light-as-crystal eyes, but it could be her mind playing tricks, or her foolish, hopeful heart.

She clenched her fists, wanted to strike him, make him bleed like she was bleeding. Only, she’d seen enough violence—in Five Points and with them boys coming home broken from the war—to know it never solved anything. Venting wouldn’t change his mind, and afterwards, she would only feel worse. If he’d hurt her, wasn’t it mostly her fault anyway? She’d all but proposed, and he’d been pressured into doing something he didn’t want to do.

Her shoulders sagged. She relaxed her fists. She’d survived after losing her family. She would survive the loss of a husband she’d known only a few hours.

Sinking onto the side of the bed, she leaned forward and put her head in her hands.

Val sat beside her. Strange man. Hadn’t he just said he was done with her, and yet here he remained, hovering like a worried uncle?

She cocked her head and stole a furtive look out of the side of her eye. He’d propped his arms on his knees and stared at the floor. Did he have mixed feelings, or was he just hesitant to go downstairs and admit it had all been a mistake?

A cool breeze from the open window bathed her heated skin. The sun had turned the sky brilliant shades of red and orange. Were she not so miserable, she would get up and look, having never seen sunsets like these. Soon, it would be evening. People would think they were up here doing what freshly married folks generally do, what her body ached for. He’d awoken something inside her with a kiss and his continued presence tormented her.

“What are you sitting here for? I thought you said I was a mistake.”

He sat upright and gripped her by her arm, pulled her around and took hold of her shoulders, pinning her with a hard gaze. “You are not
a mistake
. That is not how I think of you, not at all. You’re a very lovely, appealing woman. If my situation were different...” He let the statement hang, letting her fill in what he didn’t say, which was, they might’ve had a chance, except for something he hadn’t explained.

“What situation?”