The Roses of Feldstone, page 15
I was too late though. The somber ache in his eyes was unmistakable, no matter how much he tried to disguise it in his voice.
“You would consider engaging yourself to someone you obviously cannot stand for the sake of my mother?” William asked. “Are you certain?” He stepped closer to me and eliminated the space I had created between us. He waited for an answer, but I had none. Instead, we stood there, silence taking over the garden once again.
“You saw her,” I finally said, exasperated. “She was finally looking well for the first time since Joseph left. Now that he is leaving again, there are shadows coming back into her eyes.”
“And you would be willing to spend your life unhappy to ensure her happiness? That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard,” he said.
Then why did you even ask me? “But it’s exactly what you are doing!” I defended myself.
“No, Rose, it is not!” He shook his head. “Besides, she is my mother,” he said, placing his fingers on his immense chest. They rose and fell with every forceful breath.
“And you are the only one who can care about your mother? She is important to me too!” I said, starting to get angry myself. What did the man want from me?
“So can I consider us engaged, then?” His question was low and guttural, like a growl. “You care enough about my mother to go through with this?”
I was so taken aback by his question and his tone that I didn’t know what to say. He stood there pulling petals off the already broken rose—not one at a time but in large clumps. He wasn’t even looking at it. It was as if he didn’t even catch what his hands were doing. Perhaps he wanted me to say no. I could give him an out and refuse him. But his eyes didn’t only hold anger and sadness; there was also desperation. I knew he would be devastated if his mother retreated to her room again.
Lady Chatsworth had become like a second mother to me, so I understood why he wanted to please her enough to marry someone he would never have thought to otherwise. I didn’t think I could disappoint her, and I knew William didn’t want to.
“Yes,” I said, and the world dropped out from under me as I answered the question.
William’s hands stilled, and no more pink petals floated to the ground.
Engaged. It seemed so final.
I stuck my chin out in a poor attempt at bravery. “I suppose you may,” I said shakily.
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, he took two large steps to close the distance between us. He dropped the disfigured flower to the ground, put his right hand to the back of my neck, and pressed his forehead against mine. “I’m not sure I believe what I just heard,” he murmured. “Say it again, Rose.” He whispered my name fiercely, and for the first time, it felt intimate and scandalous, which was ridiculous, as we were now engaged. He could call me whatever he wanted. “Please.”
Well, since he had asked so nicely. I felt myself smile and my world settle into place. “Yes, William. You may consider us engaged.”
He let out a sigh, and I felt his body relax. “Being near you these past two years . . . seeing you live in my home, eating my dinner, cheering my mother, dancing with other men, sharing the same air, and knowing I could never do this has been the most excruciating thing I have ever had to bear.”
The air in the garden seemed to still, the cold wind forgotten as he breathed my name again and stepped even closer to me, pushing me back one step at a time until I bumped into the ancient oak behind me. With nowhere else to go, his body folded into mine. He lifted both of his hands to my cheeks and slowly, ever so slowly, moved his mouth closer to mine. “And now, I am going to do what I want, like the blackguard I have become,” he said. His whisper was a threat but a delicious one.
His steely eyes met mine in a dare. I could still step away, he seemed to say, and change my mind, but I had never backed down from one of William’s dares, and I wasn’t about to start now. I didn’t move as he continued his painfully slow descent. Just when I thought our lips would never meet, he closed the last few inches in a swift, hungry movement. I closed my eyes, and all my other senses came alive. I could feel and taste William, and it was intoxicating. I wanted to see his eyes, to see if he was still upset about my earlier words. I didn’t have his power of reading minds, but I thought in that moment that perhaps I could figure out what he was thinking. My eyes fluttered open, but any chance of understanding him that way was lost; his eyes were closed. His thick lashes were like a dark crescent moon against his skin. It felt wrong to look at him, so I closed mine as well.
Engaged. The word flashed through my mind; it was enough to stop my second-guessing what was going on and pay attention to what William was doing. His hands slipped from my cheeks to the back of my neck, and his fingers slid into my hair. There were parts of William I wanted to explore, so I reached my hands underneath his heavy coat and grabbed his jacket near the back of his waist, pulling him closer to me.
He stopped moving for a moment, and I wondered if I had breached some sort of etiquette. Manners were forgotten an instant later when he deepened the kiss and I felt my body press even harder into the sturdy oak tree. I needed air, but I wasn’t willing to stop this kiss. We would marry, I thought, and then I would get countless kisses, all of his kisses. But something in the back of my mind worried that this would be my only chance to share this with him.
He must have run out of air too, for he broke away from my mouth and inhaled sharply, but he didn’t step away. He untangled his fingers from my hair, and they slid down my neck until he held me by the shoulders instead. He seemed to be looking for something in my eyes, and I liked whatever it was he found there, for he kissed each one and then trailed kisses down my cheek until his lips softly brushed the top of my neck, just under my ear. His feathery touch in such a vulnerable spot made me involuntarily gasp. How had I never realized how sensitive my skin was there?
He placed three more delicious kisses on my throat as he made his way to the other side of my neck where he paused to lightly nibble my ear once. I could feel my breath coming faster, and I started to feel lightheaded. My hands slid up William’s back so I could hold myself more steadily against him, and just as I did, his lips found mine again. This kiss was different. His lips were firm and demanding. My fingers dug deeper into his jacket. To be wanted by William was inconceivable, and yet it was getting harder to deny it. Slowly, the kiss became tenderer, softer, and more hesitant. I smiled against his lips, and the sensation was exhilarating. Just as I was about to return his kiss, his grip on my shoulders loosened, and his hands slid slowly down my arms until he held each of my hands in his own. With his lips still on mine, he stepped back slightly, and I was no longer wedged between him and the oak. Standing on my own was more difficult than I remembered. I thought about leaning back into the tree, but that would’ve increased the distance between us.
His mouth separated from mine, and his breathing was as ragged as my own. My body tingled everywhere he had touched me with his hands and lips. My cheeks felt flushed, and I swiftly pulled my hands out of his and put them on my face. I couldn’t look at him; everything was too new. I kept my hands over my eyes and cheeks while I waited for my pulse to return to normal.
It never had the chance.
“What the devil is going on here?” Lord Chatsworth said, his voice unmistakable.
William stepped away from me, hastily grabbed one of my hands away from my face, and turned to confront his father. Lord Chatsworth had both hands on his hips, his normally calm visage was red, and veins were protruding from the sides of his neck.
“Nothing untoward has happened, Father. I asked Rose to marry me, and she has agreed.”
“I haven’t agreed,” Lord Chatsworth said. His voice was steely, slow, and deliberate. His eyes, so similar to William’s, flashed like a flame just stoked on a fire.
“Mother agreed—no, more than agreed. She seemed to genuinely want this.”
“When I made you heir, I made it perfectly clear that you would marry only with my approval. A condition you agreed upon.” Lord Chatsworth looked me over from head to toe. I instinctively stepped behind William, seeking protection from his father’s cold, calculating glance. The shake of his head made it clear that I was unwanted.
“She will not be the next Lady Chatsworth,” William’s father said.
“If I were you,” William said, “I would be less concerned with the future Lady Chatsworth and more concerned with the current one.” William took a deep breath, and his chest grew in size. He looked suddenly larger than his father. All of the hours he’d spent working with his tenants had made his body much more powerful than his father’s. The leisurely pursuits Lord Chatsworth occupied his time with did nothing to fortify his physique. “What happened here has nothing to do with who Rose is; it is what Mother wants! This marriage will make her happy, and that is reason enough to ignore any other faults Rose may have.”
What happened here had nothing to do with me. I closed my eyes for a moment and let William’s declaration to his father sink in.
What happened had nothing to do with me.
The faults I may have.
The faults I must have. William truly was doing this only for his mother. My many faults had only been overcome because of her. I pulled my hand out of William’s grasp. I had thought he cared for me, but it seemed as though, once again, I had been wrong. And now he was about to destroy his relationship with his father over this.
“So you are only doing this to please your mother?” Lord Chatsworth asked.
William nodded. With that small movement of his head, he destroyed the last of my hope.
“That is easily remedied,” his father said. “I will go speak to her now.”
I stepped out from behind William before Lord Chatsworth could turn to leave. “You have always been a gracious host, Lord Chatsworth,” I said. “I’m sorry to have repaid you so despicably.” I sensed William’s head whip around in alarm, but I didn’t dare turn to look at him. “You are perfectly right about Lord Telford and me not being a good match. But we thought if it could make Lady Chatsworth well, maybe we could make do together.”
“I can find my son a fiancée within a fortnight. There’s no reason to rush into an unsuitable relationship.”
“I’m certain you are correct, sir,” I said. I was still ignoring William. I couldn’t look at him. It was too soon after what I thought had been a life-changing kiss. To keep my pride in any way intact, I needed some of his practiced aloofness.
“But I talked to Mother before coming out here,” William said. “She will be expecting it.”
“Well then, tell her she refused you,” Lord Chatsworth said as if the matter was settled.
“I will not misuse Rose that way.”
“Miss Davenport!” his father practically shouted. The veins in his neck popped out alarmingly. “She is Miss Davenport.” I shook my head with a low chuckle at the irony. He and my father were the first ones to declare that we should use Christian names. My laugh made both men turn to look at me.
“It’s fine, William,” I said, reaching out to place one of my hands on his arm. “If your father can find you another bride who will make your mother happy, there is no need for us to marry. Please don’t feel entrapped by what just happened. We were both just trying to please your mother. You are welcome to go back to the manor and tell her whatever you want.”
William closed his eyes and took a large breath. Instead of filling him up, though, the breath seemed to leave him deflated. What a mess we had made of things.
“Well then, it is all settled,” Lord Chatsworth said. “She doesn’t want to marry you after all.” Actually, I hadn’t said that. But no one seemed to notice. “I will go tell your mother.”
“No!” William said, and I bit my lip to keep my hope from showing on my face. I didn’t want to be the reason William and his father fought, but it was hard to feel that I was so easily thrown over. “Let me talk to Miss Davenport first.” His eyes found mine and then went to my lips. I pressed my teeth down harder into the soft flesh. “And then I will be the one to tell Mother.” I stopped biting my lip. There was no more hope that needed hiding.
William’s father gave him a nod. “I am glad to see I have one son I can trust to do the right thing,” Lord Chatsworth said and then turned and walked back toward the house with one hand clasping his other wrist behind his back.
“Rose,” William said when his father was out of earshot. I closed my eyes and rolled the sound of my name on his lips around in my head, enjoying it one last time.
“Miss Davenport,” I said. It was time for William to be dutiful and obey his father. I slowly opened my eyes and was instantly sorry. William took no pains to hide his regret; one hand covered most of his face, and the other was clenched into a fist. He was looking down at the dirt by his feet. With a groan, he lifted his other hand to his face and massaged his forehead in rough, angry movements.
“I’m sorry, Miss Davenport,” he said when he finally looked at me, and my heart sank even further. “I have compromised you for my own selfish reasons, and it was low, even for me.” Anger and remorse enveloped his voice. “I’m going to go back to the house. I will tell my mother you refused me.”
I understood him, and I knew that this was our only recourse, but I couldn’t speak. I was still processing the fact that William and I were being pushed apart again.
“Thank the heavens you are leaving tomorrow,” he said. “You won’t want to see me after all that just transpired.” He rubbed both of his eyes roughly with his fingers that just a few short minutes ago had been tangled in my hair. “Actually, I should leave tonight. I don’t know how I will face you in the morning. I will make something up to tell Mother. Don’t worry, Rose. As long as I keep my promise and marry quickly, I am sure her health will keep improving.”
He probably told me that to make me feel better.
He turned on his heel and walked swiftly toward the manor.
“William!” I called after him, even though it was shameless of me. I wanted a small token of care from him, perhaps a sentence or two to say that being married to me wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world. He paused, and I counted two breaths as I waited for him to turn around, but he didn’t. He didn’t even look back but started once again on his errand. “This will break your mother’s heart!” It was a desperate attempt to hold on to him, and I shouldn’t have used it. The last thing I wanted to do was come between him and his father. But it worked enough to turn him around.
“When it comes to my marriage, it isn’t my mother’s heart I should be concerned about,” he said with slumped shoulders. His father’s heart was fine, so he must have meant his own. He was right. Of course he was right. I grabbed the trunk of the tree behind me, and the rough bark cut into the palms of my hands. Perhaps the pain would stop tears from welling up in my eyes. If he didn’t love me, then even at the expense of his mother’s health, he should find someone he could truly love. Hopefully it would be someone his father would approve of. I gave him a nod of approval, and this time when he left, I didn’t try to stop him.
I stayed in the garden longer than I should have, but my only thought was to avoid everyone in that household. When my eyelashes started to frost over, I knew I could put it off no longer. I snuck in the door, careful not to make a sound as I walked into the empty foyer. I didn’t see anyone, not even a servant to take my coat. It seemed as though everyone had forgotten I was even here.
I made my way quietly up to my room. Every feature of the home seemed to mock me. You thought I could be yours? every tiny piece of stone mosaic on the foyer floor said. I will belong to another woman, not you, the dark-stained wood banister said as I made my way up the stairs. I reached my bedroom and realized I would never house a guest here and think with a laugh, That was my bedroom once, when I was only a guest in this home, not the mistress, not William’s wife. I couldn’t handle any more mocking from this home, so I quickly slipped into my nightclothes and fell into bed.
Chapter 15
Our carriage was packed, and after a quiet breakfast, where not a word was breathed about last night’s debacle, my family and I headed outside. Lady Chatsworth had not been at breakfast, and neither had William. I hadn’t expected William to be there, but I would have liked to see how Lady Chatsworth was faring.
Lord Chatsworth came outside to bid us farewell, and once again, his wife was absent. Surprisingly, William followed his father out. I had assumed he had left the estate already. His head was bowed and his shoulders slumped, and when he finally looked up at me, I noticed his eyes had heavy bags under them. Apparently I hadn’t been the only one who had struggled to sleep last night.
I didn’t know what I was expecting to feel when I saw him again—embarrassment, anger, loss—but as his boots crunched up the walkway out to our carriage, I was surprised by an overwhelming sense of friendship. William had had a hard night, and so had I. I knew he had wanted to please his mother and marry me, but I also knew he wanted to please his father. I gave him a half-smile, and his head pulled back softly as one of his eyes narrowed with a question. He stopped walking and returned my half-smile with a whole, albeit tentative one. The flash of his white teeth made me feel as though we both would be fine.
He started walking again, but now his shoulders were straighter and his pace not so sluggish.
“Oh, it was such a lovely visit,” my mother was saying to Lord Chatsworth. “It was interesting to see the estate in the winter rather than the fall. I noticed my room didn’t get quite the amount of sunlight I was used to. It was fine, of course. I can be happy even in circumstances such as those. I will just remember it for next time.” She glanced at William and me. Everyone in the household had heard that he had proposed and I had refused him. “If there is to be a next time . . .”
