Rose in Bloom (8 page)

Aunt Iris went pale. “The Earl of Brighton is coming this weekend?”

“Yes, Auntie. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Oh, it’s quite all right, Rose. Quite all right…”

“Is something the matter, Iris?” Lucy asked.

“No, no, of course not, Lucy.” Aunt Iris fidgeted with a napkin. “Will they be arriving tonight, as usual, for dinner?”

“Yes, I assume so,” Rose said. “Then leaving Sunday afternoon.”

“Goodness,” Aunt Iris said. “All right, then.”

“Mother, what on earth is the matter?” Alexandra asked. “You’re white as a ghost.”

“I’m fine, dear. Just fine. I’m a little tired is all. I didn’t sleep at all well last night.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lucy said. “Is there anything wrong with your chamber?”

“No, no, it’s fine.”

“Well, if you have any more trouble, do come to me. I have a wonderful elixir that will guarantee a restful sleep.”

“Thank you, Lucy. I will.” Aunt Iris rose. “If you all will excuse me, I think I’ll take a brisk walk. That may…er…wake me up a bit.”

“I’ll accompany you,” Lucy said.

“You needn’t bother.”

“It’s no bother. I enjoy a nice morning walk. If the rest of you will excuse me?”

* * * *

Iris stood on the front terrace, her reflection staring back at her in a small puddle. She pursed her lips. She was tall, like her daughter Alexandra, and had thick golden hair, streaked with only minimal silver. Though not as classically beautiful as her sister, Flora, the Countess of Ashford, she was attractive, with an oval face and high cheekbones, almond-shaped hazel eyes and a wide full-lipped mouth. Her nose had always bothered her. She thought it too large for her face. Thankfully her daughters’ noses were smaller. They were both beautiful girls, and she had no doubt that they would make fine matches. She hadn’t been so lucky.

Awkwardly shy when she was younger, she hadn’t received an offer after four seasons, so at twenty-five, her parents, the Baron and Baroness White, had married her to Angus MacIntyre, the Earl of Longarry, a short and stout Scotsman, whose holdings were in jeopardy. He was attracted by Iris’s substantial dowry. She was transported to Scotland for a quick ceremony attended only by her parents. Angus had been jovial, even affectionate…until Iris’s parents returned to London. After that he had become abusive, especially when it took five years for her to give him a child, and then it was a girl, Sophie. Two years later Alexandra came along. The earl became a tyrant, He raped Iris weekly, demanding an heir, but one never came. He mistreated his children as well, blaming them for not being boys. Longarry had died of consumption two years previously, leaving Iris and the girls penniless. But penniless was so much better than living with Longarry. Iris thanked God every day that he was gone. And she thanked God for her sister and brother-in-law, the Earl and Countess of Ashford, who had supported her and the girls since his death.

Despite her hatred of him, Iris had been a good wife to the earl. She had taken care of his estate, what little was left of it, seen to his needs, and had never strayed from his bed. Except for once.

“Are you ready, Iris?”

Iris jumped at Lucy’s voice, her thoughts muddling, as did her reflection when a bird dropped into the puddle.

“Yes, yes, let’s go.”

“Now, tell me,” Lucy said, as they began walking down a stony path. “What is going on?”

“Oh, nothing, really.”

“Iris, we may have lost touch over the years, but we were best friends once. Something is bothering you, and I’d wager a guess that it has something to do with our weekend visitors.”

Iris sighed. She had kept the secret for nearly twenty years. “Oh, Lucy, it’s… Oh I can’t even say it.”

“Of course you can, dear. I’ll keep your confidence, if that is what you require.”

“I definitely require confidence. And…”

“And what?”

“If you could possibly…not judge me too harshly.”

“I won’t. Goodness, Iris, what is it?”

“It’s the Earl of Brighton,” Iris said, swallowing to keep her voice from cracking. “I…had an affair with him.”

Lucy’s eyes widened. “How in the world?”

“It was about twenty years ago. Sophie was two and Ally was just a babe, and the girls and I had traveled to Hampshire for a house party at Flora’s estate. Longarry stayed in Scotland to tend to business matters, and frankly, I was looking forward to escaping him for a month. Oh, it was so beautiful, Lucy, and Lily and Rose’s nannies took care of my girls, so I had a lot of time to myself. Walking about the estate one day, I met David.”

“The Earl of Brighton.”

“Yes. You know how shy I always was, but somehow I could talk to him. We walked and laughed, and he introduced me to his children, who were romping about. Young Evan was six, Miranda was seven, and Jacob, his heir, was ten. I asked to meet his wife, but he said the countess had been feeling poorly and had chosen to go to Bath, to take to the waters for a month.”

“Oh, Iris.”

“As you can imagine, one thing led to another. We shared a bed for most of the house party. I had only recently recovered from having Ally, and I hadn’t slept with Longarry in quite some time. He found my pregnant belly unattractive. Frankly I was glad for the respite. Being with David was…lovely. Just lovely.”

“What of his wife?”

“It wasn’t a love match. They had been promised to each other since birth. Still, he told me that he had never strayed from her until me.”

“And you believed him?”

“I did, actually. Perhaps it was silly, but I believed him. He told me that he loved me.”

“And did you love him?”

Iris warmed at the memory. “Yes, Lucy, I did. He was kind and compassionate. Tender and loving. Everything that Longarry wasn’t. Plus he was handsome as the devil.”

“Yes, that he was. He still is.”

“Have you seen him recently?

“About two years ago, at his wife’s funeral. He hasn’t ventured out much since then. Even before then, he wasn’t much for house parties. I wonder why he attended the one where he met you?”

“Perhaps because his wife went to Bath. I don’t know.” Iris drew a deep breath, hoping to calm her nerves. “Lucy, I never told anyone about this, not even Flora. I was always afraid it would get back to Longarry, and then he would…”

“He would what, Iris?”

“He would…beat me, or rape me, or do something else horrid.”

“Iris!” Lucy stopped walking. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

“The girls and I persevered. I shielded them from as much of it as I could, although he wasn’t kind to them. I know it’s terrible, but I’m so glad he’s gone.”

“Of course you are. Who wouldn’t be?” Lucy led her to a small bench.

Iris sat down, her body full of…what? She wasn’t sure. She turned to her friend. “David and I, we really were in love. But we weren’t free to be together. He was so passionate, Lucy, so loving. He—” Iris smiled slyly. “He made love so sweetly. He made me feel beautiful and desirable.”

“You are, Iris. You are.”

“I never thought I was. Flora was always the beautiful one, and she caught Ashford on her own, when she was not but eighteen. But David made me feel like I was everything to him. The way he looked at me… He was wonderful.” Iris lowered her voice. “He did the most scandalous thing.”

“What?”

“Well, I was nursing Ally at the time, and he…he drank my milk from me.”

Lucy gasped.

“I know it’s wicked,” Iris continued. “He did things to me that I never imagined. It was heavenly.”

“Did you tell him about how Longarry treated you?”

“Only small bits and pieces. I didn’t tell him about the violence, but I did tell him that the earl wasn’t kind, and that I didn’t love him.”

“What did he tell you about his wife?”

“Only that she was a fine woman, a good mother to his children, but that he didn’t love her.”

“Did she love him?”

“He didn’t know. It wasn’t something they talked about.”

Lucy patted her hand.“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been both anticipating and dreading this moment since Rose took up with Lord Evan. I knew our paths would eventually cross again. Now that we’re both widowed…” She shook her head. “No, it’s been too long.”

“Perhaps not. How did you end things?”

“We went our separate ways. We decided not to continue the affair. It would have been too difficult, with my living in Scotland. Plus, he had no desire to hurt his wife, and although I didn’t mind hurting Longarry, I knew how he would react if he ever found out. So we parted as friends.”

“And you haven’t seen him since?”

“No.”

“Well, Iris, take out your best dress, because you’re going to see him tonight at dinner.”

“Good Lord,” Iris said, sighing softly. “Good Lord in heaven.”

Chapter Six

Kat is the same.

The message said no more. Cameron paced, reading the note in his mother’s hand dated two days previously. Damn it! How was he supposed to exist this way, with this kind of news? He wanted to go to Bath. Better yet, go somewhere else. Saddle up Apollo and just ride. Ride away from this torturous existence that fate had dealt him.

But he couldn’t. He had to stay here in his stupid little cottage on the Lybrook land. He had to look after Tricia. He had to write that goddamned song for Xavier to give to Rose.

His
Rose.

No. No longer
his
Rose. He had let her go.

If only his heart could accept that sad truth.

But she still haunted him—the angel who never left his thoughts. Her beauty tormented him during all waking hours, and he couldn’t even escape her at night, as his dreams were filled with her kisses, her lush body enveloping his, her lips telling him that she loved him. He was consumed by her for all time. He would never love another woman.

He couldn’t shake the look on her angelic face, the sound of her velvet voice, the tremors of her body when he had turned her away. Revoked his love for her. He’d never told a bigger lie, and the pain on her delicate features was etched in his mind for all time.

But for Kat, he felt he wouldn’t want to live at all.

Tricia was at the stove, putting something together for their dinner. Cameron had to eat, but he had no appetite.

Worry for Kat.

Loneliness for Rose.

Hatred for himself.

No happiness. No contentment. No peace.

“Cam, dinner’s ready,” Tricia said.

Cameron sighed. He would eat. He needed strength for Kat. And he needed his brain at full functioning power to write that damned composition for Xavier. He would start tonight.

* * * *

Crawford, the Lybrook butler, led the two men into the main parlor. “May I present the Earl of Brighton and Lord Evan Xavier,” he said.

Iris gulped as Maggie rose to greet them.

“My lord,” Maggie said to the earl, “it has been too long. We are so glad to have your presence here at Laurel Ridge.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Brighton said. “My son speaks highly of the hospitality you have shown him over the past month. May I congratulate you on the marriage of your son.”

“Thank you, my lord. We are so sorry that you were unable to come to the wedding.”

“Alas, I was out of the country, as I’m sure Evan told you. I had business in Spain that took little over two months. The Brighton estate has substantial holdings there.”

“It’s good to have you home, my lord. You remember my sister, Miss Lucinda Landon?”

“Yes, it’s good to see you, Miss Landon.” The earl bent over to kiss Lucy’s hand.

“And may I present the Countess of Longarry. She is a longtime friend of Lucy’s and mine, and aunt to my new daughter-in-law.”

Iris stood, but her legs wouldn’t propel her forward. David had hardly changed in twenty years. His brown eyes, fringed in dark lashes, still had a way of penetrating her soul. His dark blond hair was now streaked with silver, and his face, pleasantly handsome like his son’s, defied his age. Only a few laugh lines around his eyes betrayed his sixty years. He strode toward her, so tall and broad, like Evan, and took her hand.

“My lady,” he said, their eyes meeting.

“I-It’s…good to see you, my lord,” Iris stammered. “I trust your journey was pleasant?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Alexandra cleared her throat.

“My lord,” Iris said. “May I present my daughters, Lady Alexandra and Lady Sophie MacIntyre.”

“Such charming young ladies,” the earl said, taking each of their hands in turn. “Just babes when I saw you last.”

“Have we met, my lord?” Alexandra asked.

“You were but a few months old, as I recall. I met you two and your mother at the Ashford estate some…twenty years ago, I’d say.”

“Father,” Evan interrupted, taking Rose’s arm. “I’d like to present Lady Rose Jameson.”

“It’s an honor, my lord,” Rose said.

“Another charming lady who I last saw as a babe,” Brighton declared. “She is a beauty, Evan.”

“Yes, I think so too,” Evan replied.

Rose flushed. “I…have been looking forward to meeting you. I’m sure my sister and brother-in-law will be sorry that they missed your visit.”

“On their honeymoon?” Brighton laughed. “I doubt they’ll be the least bit sorry. I am looking forward to meeting the new duchess though. Perhaps all of you could come to my estate for the weekend after they return.”

“That’s a fine idea, Father,” Evan agreed.

“We’ll plan on it, then.” Brighton took an aperitif from a maid and took a sip. “I’m looking forward to dinner. You and Lybrook, may he rest in peace, always served the finest meals here, Your Grace.”

“We have had the same kitchen staff for over ten years,” Maggie said. “I’m sure they have something elegant planned.”

Crawford entered quietly. “Dinner is served, Your Grace.”

“Wonderful, Crawford. If you would all follow me,” Maggie said. “I hope you don’t mind. Since we are such a small group, I thought the informal dining room would be nicer and more…intimate.”

Iris warmed from head to toe. More intimate indeed. Maggie couldn’t possibly know about her affair with David, could she? Lucy had promised to keep their conversation in confidence. When she found herself seated next to David, though, she cast Lucy a sideways glance. Lucy’s lips curved ever so slightly upward. Yes, it had been purposefully arranged. David, always the consummate gentleman, held Iris’s chair for her as she sat down nervously.

“Tell me, my lord,” she said, “how are your other children?”

“They’re well, my lady. Jacob, my heir, is betrothed to Lady Emily Wilkes, the daughter of Earl of St. Clair, a fine young woman. And Miranda is married to Viscount Odegard. They have a small son, Peter.”

“How nice.” Now what to say? The silence was becoming stifling. She pleadingly looked at Lucy.

“Do you enjoy grandparenthood, my lord?” Lucy asked, giving Iris a subtle wink.

The earl laughed jovially. “Oh, yes, Peter is a spry little fellow. I wish I saw him more. My daughter and her husband prefer to spend most of their time in London, so we aren’t together often. The countess would have doted on him. I only regret that she passed on before he was born.”

The countess. Why did he have to mention her? “I was sorry to hear about your wife’s passing,” Iris said.

“It’s been a little over two years now,” the earl said. “How is your husband?”

“Longarry passed on about two years ago also.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Iris eyed her plate and fidgeted with her napkin. Where was the first course? What to do with her hands? “That’s perfectly fine. The girls and I have managed quite well.”

“Of course. Where are you keeping yourself these days?”

“In Mayfair. We have a townhome there.”

“You didn’t stay in Scotland?”

“No. Longarry had no family to speak of, so there was no reason to. The girls and I decided to return to England. I spend much of my time with my sister, and now that Lucy and I have renewed our friendship, I hope to see more of her as well.”

Finally! A footman served the first course. Iris raised a lobster canapé to her mouth and was suddenly very conscious of her chewing.

“Iris and I were best friends as girls,” Lucy chimed in. “It’s been wonderful getting to know each other again.”

“Yes, I can see how it would be.” David gazed at Iris with his warm brown eyes. “It certainly would be.”

Iris inhaled as a servant set a plate of tomato bisque before her. Was it the steam rising from the soup that made her feel hot all over? Or was it David’s gaze? And why in hell did the chef prepare something red and runny? The way her hands were shaking, she wasn’t sure the soup would make it to her mouth.

“Father,” Evan said, “Rose is an excellent rider. I thought maybe the three of us could go riding on the morrow.”

“Hmm?” The earl turned to his son.

“I thought the three of us could go riding tomorrow. You, Rose, and I.”

“Yes, of course. I’ve heard you’re quite the horsewoman,” he said to Rose.

“I’m afraid your son flatters me, my lord.”

“Nonsense,” Evan said. “She’s amazing on horseback. And at the pianoforte. You should play something for my father, Rose.”

“Evan…”

“I’d love to hear you play, my dear,” the earl said.

“Of course, I would be honored.”

“Tell me, how is your father?”

“He’s fine, my lord.”

“Good, good. And your lovely mother?”

“Fine as well.”

“Good.” He turned back to Iris. “My lady?”

“Yes?” Iris fussed with her napkin, which was now a twisted knot in her lap. She still hadn’t braved a spoonful of the soup.

“Would you—?”

They were interrupted by the chef, who came in wielding a large carving knife over a roast baron of beef.

“That looks marvelous, Pierre,” Maggie said.

“
Merci, Madame
.” The chef bowed and began carving.

Minutes passed like hours. Iris barely tasted her roast beef. Or her potato soufflé and vegetable casserole. Even the fruit and cheese slid down her throat like dry crackers. She washed it all down with claret and began to feel a bit light-headed. She was secretly relieved when Evan and his father retired to the smoking room for their cigars and port.

Sophie, Alexandra, and Rose took their coffee on the front terrace, but Iris stayed in the main parlor. She was lost in thought when Lucy entered.

“Are you faring well, Iris?” Lucy asked.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Iris rubbed her temple. “Goodness, I shouldn’t have drunk so much wine.”

“Nonsense, you had only two glasses, the same as the rest of us.”

“Yes, but if you noticed, I didn’t eat very much. I couldn’t seem to choke anything down. I felt like… Lucy, he was looking at me. I couldn’t chew or anything. I was deathly afraid I’d do something ridiculous, like spill that dreaded tomato bisque down the front of my gown.”

“Iris…”

“This is so silly. I’m fifty-two years old, for goodness’ sake, and I’m acting like an infatuated school girl!”

“You were fine. No one noticed a thing.”

“Lord. Lucy, did you tell Maggie about the earl and me?”

“Of course not. I gave you my word.”

“Thank goodness.”

“Although I think Maggie would be understanding.”

“Yes, I’m sure she would. And I do mean to tell her…eventually. Flora too. But right now I can’t even think straight.”

“You need some air, dear. Why don’t you go out onto the back terrace? It’s a beautiful evening. I’ll have Eunice bring our coffees out there.”

“Yes, that would be lovely. I will.”

Iris left the main parlor and walked down the long hallway to the stairway leading to the ballroom. She stopped in the ladies’ retiring room and assessed her appearance, thankful that her dusty pink dinner gown wasn’t dripping tomato or claret. Quickly she descended the grand staircase and strode through the vacant ballroom, out onto the back terrace. The sun had almost completely set, and the half moon shone brightly in the night sky. Within a half hour, the fiery stars would light up the clear sky. She took a deep breath, relishing the fresh night air, her hands on the railing, her body leaning into the soft breeze of the evening.

“You haven’t changed a bit, Iris.”

She turned, gasped, and stood only a hair’s breadth away from David Xavier, the Earl of Brighton.

* * * *

Rose was sitting alone on the front terrace when Evan appeared.

“Where are your cousins?” he asked.

“Sophie got a chill, and Ally went upstairs to write a letter to Mr. Landon.”

“Good,” he said. “Not that I mind their company, but I’m glad to spend some time with you alone. Would you care to walk a bit?”

Rose sighed. This was her destiny. This nice, honorable man, who clearly adored her. She was fond of him, but she didn’t love him. Would never love him. She loved another. Would always love another. But Evan, not Cameron, was her future.

“Of course.” She stood and took his arm.

Together they walked toward the stables and turned down a small winding path.

“Could we stop at the kennels?” Rose asked. “I’d like to see Brandy. I promised Lily I would take good care of her.” Brandy was a St. John’s Dog puppy, a gift to Lily from the duke.

“Yes, that’s fine,” Evan said.

But he stopped, turned Rose to face him, and lightly brushed his lips down upon hers.

Evan’s kiss.

It was sweet and gentle. Enjoyable, but not astounding. Pleasant, but not life changing. Rose wanted more. She flung her arms around Evan’s neck and drew her to him, taking his mouth with hers. Perhaps it wasn’t Cameron that made their kisses so special. Maybe she could kiss like that with any man. She intended to find out.