Rose in Bloom (23 page)

Rose giggled. “My father is very conventional. He might be impressed if you wear formal attire to speak with him.”

Cam rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get some clothes from Thomas. You’re about his size.”

“Just don’t tell him where I spent the night.”

“Of course I won’t. You’re of much more use to me in one piece.”

* * * *

After sharing breakfast and bathing each other, Rose and Cameron went downstairs and asked Lily to arrange a meeting with the Earl and Countess of Ashford. With an hour to spare, Cameron led Rose into the conservatory.

“I want to hear you play your song,” he said. “I never did it justice.”

“I can’t believe that,” Rose said. “You play very nicely.”

“I’ve a decent hand is all. I can’t make the piano sing like you can. Please.”

“Of course. I’d do anything for you.” Rose sat down on the cushioned bench and arranged the pieces of parchment in front of her. “I can help you with your work, you know. I would love nothing more.”

“I can’t say I relish the idea of my wife working, but if it means spending more time with you, I shall bear it.”

Cam’s lips curved into the smile that Rose loved, as he sat next to her on the bench.

He spoke as she played. “You’re at your most beautiful when you play, Rose. They keys are like extensions of your fingers.”

“I think it’s the music,” Rose said. “It’s beautiful, Cam. I’ve never heard a lovelier piece.”

“You were as much a part of its creation as I.” He caressed her cheek and penetrated her gaze with his silvery eyes. “I love you so very much.”

“I love you too.” Rose kissed his lips and slid against his chest into his embrace.

As the kiss deepened, Rose climbed onto Cameron’s lap, hiking up her skirts and straddling him. His arousal poked her through his trousers, and as she kissed him she moved subtly, grinding against him as her pussy began to pulse.

“I can’t believe I want you again,” Cameron whispered, nibbling on her ear. “I can’t get enough of you.”

“Mmm,” was Rose’s only comment, as she moved on him, purring like a kitten and rubbing her sensitive peak against him.

“Rose?”

No response.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hmm?”

“Is this room soundproof?”

No response again.

“Is this room soundproof, sweet?”

“Mmm. Yes, I think so. It’s a conservatory. It should be.” She brushed her lips over his cheeks and chin, his rough stubble tickling her.

Cameron stood, Rose still in his arms, strode briskly to the door of the conservatory, turned the key in the lock, and brought her back to the piano. He lowered the lid of the grand piano while still holding Rose, then set her atop the piano.

“What are you doing, Cam?”.

“Shh.” He removed her shoes and stockings, kissing and licking her legs and making her skin tingle, and then pulled her drawers down over her ankles. He lowered his head between her legs and licked her pussy, softly at first, and then more ferociously.

Rose writhed beneath him. So wicked to be making love in the conservatory, yet somehow this was where they belonged. She wiggled her bottom against the cool wood of the pianoforte, begging and pleading, until he finally filled her emptiness with a finger, and then two.

Cam moved his fingers in a slow circular rhythm, and then increased his speed and pressure, all the while tantalizing her peak with his silky tongue.

“So good, Cam.” Rose lifted her hips, moaning his name as she succumbed once again to the ecstasy of climax. He forced her to the summit again, and then again, until she screamed in joyful torment.

He brought his face to hers and kissed her mouth, plunging his tongue into her.

“Cam,” she said between gasps. “God, Cam.”

“See why I wanted to know if it was soundproof?” He smiled lazily as he fumbled with the buttons of his trousers and freed his beautiful cock. “I’m going to sink myself into your body, sweet.”

“Yes, please,” Rose begged.

He thrust into her.

Cam pulled her legs up over his shoulders as he pounded her, kissing her calves and ankles, running his tongue over the arch of her foot. “You were made for me, Rose. God, you fit me perfectly.” He continued his rhythm of thrusts while sensually caressing the curves of her long slender legs.

Rose sobbed, calling his name, begging him to take her, as each sensational thrust nudged her swollen tip. Soon she came again.

At last Cameron plunged into her, his sex pulsating, his body shuddering. “Mine,” he said. “My Rose.”

“Yes, yours,” Rose whispered. “Always.”

Cameron gathered Rose into his arms and kissed her, deeply and slowly, whispering his love to her. Rose relished the closeness, the giddiness, until she looked at the clock on the mantel.

“We need to meet my parents,” she said.

Cam groaned. “Can’t we just stay here? I want to love you again.”

“How many times has it been this morning? Are you steam powered?”

“Love powered.” He gently set her down on the brocade sofa and gathered her discarded garments. “I need to take care of you. But I don’t have anything to clean you with.”

“Here, just use these.” She handed him her drawers.

“What are you going to wear then?” He gently wiped the semen and juices from her body.

“I guess I’ll just have to go without.” She winked.

Cam’s eyes widened into saucers. “You expect me to sit across from your father and ask for your hand, knowing that you’re not wearing any undergarments?”

“Yes, yes,” Rose said. “That should make you very persuasive indeed.”

Cam chuckled, helping Rose with her stockings and shoes. “Persuasive? I’m likely to be a blathering idiot. I won’t be able to think straight.”

Rose stood and straightened her dress. “Is my hair all right?”

Cam tucked a few stray ends behind her ears. “I think you should pass muster.”

“Very well, then. Shall we?”

As they walked out of the conservatory and toward Daniel’s study where they were to meet her parents, Rose summoned a housemaid. “Meghan,” she said, “the piano in the conservatory needs to be polished and dusted.” Then, tossing her soiled drawers, “And put these in the laundry.”

Chapter Seventeen

The Earl of Ashford sat behind the duke’s mahogany desk. The countess and Lily were on the red velvet settee next to the desk. The tension hit Rose as she and Cameron entered. Lily gave Rose a calming grin and stood.

“No, Lily, please stay.” Rose gestured.

“All right.” Lily sat back down next to her mother.

Ashford cleared his throat. “Mr. Price, Rose. It’s not every day that I’m summoned to a meeting by a commoner. Exactly what is your business with me?”

Cameron inhaled deeply and looked at Rose. She showered him with all the love she possessed, hoping he could see it in her eyes.

“My lord, I wish to marry your daughter.”

Lady Ashford inhaled sharply.

“Pardon me?” Ashford raised his brow.

“I want to marry Rose,” Cameron said again.

“I have little time for jokes, Mr. Price.”

“This is no joke, Papa.” Rose took Cam’s hand. “We are in love and we wish to marry.”

“Do be quiet, Rose,” Ashford said. “This is no concern of yours.”

“No concern of mine? Are you serious?” Rose’s nerves vibrated under her skin.

Lady Ashford pleaded with her eyes for Rose to be quiet. Rose inhaled, trying to calm herself.

“I’m afraid I cannot allow my daughter to marry a commoner,” Ashford said to Cameron.

Cam wiped his free hand nervously on his trousers. “My lord, I assure you that I can take care of her.”

“Really? Just what do you have to offer my daughter?”

“My love, most importantly.”

Ashford rolled his eyes. “You can’t live on love, Price.”

“Papa—”

“Enough, Rose. Let him speak his piece,” Ashford said.

Cameron cleared his throat. “I have a post as the house composer for the new Regal Theatre.”

“We heard his music last evening, Papa,” Lily said. “It was very well received.”

“And I can take private commissions.”

“And you expect to support my daughter in the manner she has become accustomed to as a theatre composer?”

“Well, perhaps not in the manner you have supported her, but—”

“I’m sorry, Price. It’s out of the question.”

“Papa,” Rose said. “We are in love, and we are going to marry.”

“You would defy my decision?”

“To be with the man I love, yes, I would,” Rose said.

“Well, that’s all fine and well,” Ashford said, “but you’re forgetting one tiny detail. You’re not of age, Rose.”

“I’ll be twenty-one in two months!”

“Until then, you require my permission to marry, and I will not give it.”

Rose looked pleadingly at Lily.

“Papa,” Lily said, “Daniel and I are acquainted with Mr. Price and his family. He is a good man, and he loves Rose.”

“I don’t need anyone to defend me,” Cameron said.

“Lily was just trying to—” Rose began.

“Yes, I know,” he said. “I mean no offense, Your Grace. I’m not used to having to sell myself.” He turned to Ashford. “I may not have been born a peer, my lord, but I love Rose more than anything in the world. She refused Xavier because she’s in love with me.”

“You are no doubt aware of her dowry?”

“I don’t give a damn about her dowry!”

Rose squeezed his hand, hoping he understood.

“Forgive me, my lord. I should have controlled that outburst.”

“You’re saying that you would marry her if she didn’t have a dowry?”

“I would marry her if she didn’t have a farthing. I love her!”

“I see.” Ashford removed his spectacles and turned to his wife. “Flora, have you any opinion on this?”

“I wish only to see Rose happy,” Lady Ashford said.

Ashford cleared his throat. “Then I will give permission if you wait for two months, when Rose reaches the age of twenty-one.”

“But, Papa—”

“If your love is true, it can survive for two months. You won’t need my permission anyway after that.”

“But we can’t wait.”

“Why not?”

Rose took a deep breath. She had no choice but to tell the truth. “Because I’m with child.”

Lady Ashford fanned herself with her hands. “Dear Lord, Rose.”

“I’m sorry, Mummy,” Rose said. Then, “Well, no, I’m actually not.”

“Well,” Ashford said, “I can see that the matter is settled then. I suppose you have my permission. I’ll not see my daughter a societal outcast.”

“Oh, thank you, Papa!”

“Don’t thank me yet, Rose,” Ashford said. “Now you, your sister, and your mother must leave this room. Your…
intended
and I need to have a chat.”

Rose embraced Cameron protectively. “No, Papa. I’ll not leave him.”

“It’s all right, Rose. I’ll be fine.”

“Yes, it’s fine. Now go on, all of you—”

A knock on the door interrupted Ashford. “What is it?” he bellowed.

Crawford opened the door. “My apologies, Your Grace, my lord, my ladies. Mr. Price has a visitor.”

“Mr. Price is otherwise engaged, Crawford,” Lord Ashford said.

“I know. I informed our visitors as much, but they insist on seeing him straight away.”

“I’ll handle this, Papa,” Lily said, rising.

“The duke has been informed already, Your Grace. He insists that Mr. Price come to the main parlor.”

“Who are these mysterious visitors, Crawford?” Lily asked.

“The Marquess of Denbigh and his mother, the dowager marchioness.”

“Do you know them, Cameron?” Rose asked.

“I just met the marchioness last evening. But why on earth would they come all the way here to see me?”

“Mr. Newland is with them,” Crawford said, “as are your mother and sisters.”

“I’m flummoxed,” Cameron said. “I have no idea what this could possibly be about.”

“Go ahead,” Ashford said. “Denbigh outranks me. I shan’t keep you from your business.”

“Papa, really.” Lily rolled her eyes. “Your obsession over rank is so— Oh, never mind. Come now,” she said to Rose and Cameron. “Let’s see what this is about.”

* * * *

The elderly Lady Denbigh sat in her wheelchair with a cup of tea. Cameron strode forward and took her hand.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, my lady,” he said.

“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Price.” Lady Denbigh smiled. “I would like to introduce my son, Beauregard Adams, the ninth Marquess of Denbigh.”

Cameron raised his head to regard the older gentleman standing behind his mother’s wheelchair. He was tall, about Cameron’s own height, with a shock of thick white hair and a finely chiseled jawline, devoid of the wrinkles of age. As Cameron readied himself to bow politely, his heart nearly stopped.

His own silver eyes stared back at him.