Page 84 of A Translation of Desire
Both ladies nodded and departed. A maid helped her loosen the ties of her dress but then Rose said, “I think I can manage from here.”
The maid looked as if she wanted to argue, and Rose smiled. “I appreciate your help, but I would like to be alone.”
The woman said, “Yes, Miss Calvert. If you need anything, pull on the rope.”
“Thank you,” she said to the maid’s retreating figure, worrying that she had upset her.
Rose didn’t want people she didn’t know fussing over her. She glanced around, alone in the massive room—out of place. She wandered to the bathing room, startled that the guest-chamber had one. Owners often had one in their house, but having one for guests seemed extravagant to Rose.
She removed her clothing and sighed as she stepped into the steaming bathtub. Rose sat, feeling as if she could relax for the first time since the start of her kidnapping. Strangely, she suddenly missed her father. She wished he was here. Rose would need to send him a letter. He would be beside himself.
A small smile filled her face. She’d not wanted to come to London, but truthfully, it had been the right choice. She adored the ladies in the club, and Augustus. Her eyes flicked around the room, and she sighed. While she’d grown close to the man, Rose realized she didn’t know this Augustus—the duke who lived in this house. She closed her eyes, not wanting to think about their differences.
“Rose,” he said gruffly from the doorway of the bathing room.
Her eyes flew open, and he stared down at her. They quietly looked at one another, and he finally said, “My mother and sister are in the drawing room and have told everyone you are to be left undisturbed, but I wanted to check on you.”
So many emotions flowed between them, and Rose said, “Join me.”
*
Augustus removed hisjacket and cravat, watching her. Desire swam in her eyes, but something else shimmered in them. He suspected it was the same emotion that swirled through him—something so strong and deep that no matter what happened between him and this woman, there would be no getting over it. Rose’s eyes roamed over him as he removed his boots, shirt, and pants. He stepped into the tub across from her, and she drew up her legs, making room for him.
They faced each other; neither said a word. She was a vision with her wet brownish-red hair dangling over her shoulders, teasing him with peeks of her rosy nipples. His cock was already hard, but he resisted the urge to pull her to him. He wanted to sit with her for a moment—make sure she was fine.
Her slender legs slid back down the length of his, closer to his shaft. He gritted his teeth, and a slight smirk filled her face. She was messing with him. Augustus lifted one of her legs and kissed her ankle. She sucked in a breath, and he winked back at her. The ease between them was special. It was something in his thirty-five years he’d never experienced with another woman.
Augustus placed her feet in his lap, and her eyes flared with desire. He again resisted the urge to do exactly what they both wanted. As much as he wanted to bury himself in her, first, he wanted to gaze upon her and let his worry dissipate. He asked, “Are you sure you are fine?”
“I am,” Rose reassured him.
Nodding, he said, “After Hawley confirms you are safe, I will return you to Lisbeth’s.”
“I don’t think they are coming back for me. The text they wanted me to decipher was cuneiform, but it wasn’t of a real language.”
“Hawley created it as some type of test for the British Secret Service.”
She shook her head. “What a strange idea.”
Augustus nodded. “From what I was privy to, I think any thoughts on pursuing its use are over.”
She snorted. “Saying that spies plan to use ancient text to send sensitive messages aloud sounds absurd.”
A bark of laughter escaped him because she was right. It sounded like something one would read about in a fictional adventure novel. “Hawley emphasized that we need to inform everyone that the men who took you were simply smugglers who’d heard the rumor. He did inform the Historical Society for Female Curators about the speculation that the British Secret Service was using cuneiform, and that he thought your kidnapping was somehow connected.”
Rose pulled her feet back and frowned at him. “I won’t lie to them. They are my friends.”
“I’m not sure it really is a lie. Some type of smuggler or notorious person did kidnap you, and we don’t know much more than that. The only thing we would be withholding was Hawley’s involvement, and his association with the British Secret Service seems to be over. They decided not to use ancient text.”
She seemed to ponder his words, but still appeared reluctant. “What exactly would you tell the club?”
“That Bradford agreed to help a smuggler because he needed the money. He doesn’t seem to know enough to debate the point. I would leave it at that.”
Rose sat straight up. “He’s alive?”
Augustus sighed. “Only you would be happy that someone who abducted you isn’t dead.”
She shrugged one of her pretty shoulders, giving him another peek of a plump breast. His want for this woman was beyond anything he’d ever felt. She sighed, sinking into the tub and stretching her legs up the length of his torso. He kissed the top of her feet.
