Page 45 of A Duke for Stealing
Drunk on relaxation, Rose could not help the small smile that formed on her lips as she nuzzled deeper into his arms for the few remaining steps to her bed. She’d never felt like this before. Soft. Vulnerable.Safe.And yet of all places, she found such feelings in Everett’s arms. It amazed her.
“Stay,” she pleaded as Everett lay her atop her bed.
A look of regret passed over his handsome face, and Rose felt an odd ache in her chest as he shook his head.
“You need your rest,” he replied, pulling the covers over her spent body.
“I could rest with you here,” she replied, reaching for his hand.
The ache in her chest intensified as Everett captured her hand before she could capture his and tucked it under the blanket.
“I could not,” he told her, a tinge of regret in his tone.
“You have had quite the day,” he went on, not meeting her eyes. “And you have plenty to do before we leave for London the day after next.”
For a moment, he looked as if he was about to lean down and kiss her, but then it seemed as if he was pulling himself back from the action and struggling with it. Rose sat up, some of that languid drowsiness leaving her.
“Did I do something wrong?” She asked, trying to understand why he was suddenly acting so distant.
“No,” he replied, his tone gentle. "You were perfect, as I stated.”
His eyes then raked down her again, a look of longing shining in them. Then he turned away and walked toward the door.
“Goodnight, Rose. Sleep well.”
She called for him to wait, but she was answered with the soft thud of her shutting door. Whatever sense of sleepiness she once felt dissolved, and as she lay her head back upon the pillows, she mentally went back through the night, wondering how Everett could feel so close and lovely one moment, and then distant the next.
She had thought, for the briefest of moments, that they were getting close. Apparently, she had been wrong.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Is there a reason you had me come all the way out here?” Betty asked as Rose met her in the foyer.
It had been a few weeks since Rose’s marriage to Everett took place, and although Rose had heard of what her mother had been doing, she had not seen her since. Figuring it was high time that they had a visit, Rose had sent the Countess of Lightholder an invitation to come to Stapleton.
She had expected many things from her mother, but annoyance that her own daughter was not one of them. Rose sighed, trying not to be disappointed by her mother’s words of greeting. There was no,oh, how I missed you!No,my lovely home!Justwhy am I here?
“It is not that long a ride, Mama,” Rose replied, leaning forward to kiss her mother’s cheeks. As usual, she caught the scent of spirits wafting from her, and Rose started to doubt her plan. “And I wanted you to see my new home. It is, will you be visitingme in the future, and I believe it would be good for you to become acclimated to it.”
Betty ignored Rose’s words regarding her new home and only focused on the carriage ride.
“It is far enough in this heat,” Betty complained, but relinquished a quick kiss on her daughter’s cheek before beginning to pout. “And now I am woefully thirsty. Where are your staff? Have someone fetch me a wine, darling, I am positively parched.”
Rose beckoned forth a servant and quickly bid them to open a bottle of red and have it delivered to the sitting room.
“What an atrociously large space,” Betty complained, looking around the foyer, “And how utterly plain!”
“It is no larger than our country home, Mama,” Rose pointed out, “And I do not believe it is plain. I believe it is well-kept. I enjoy the cleanliness of it.”
And she did. The paintings were artfully spaced and centered. The tables were few and clean of surface, save for the vases of fresh flowers. There was no overabundance of knick-knacks or stuffy, unusable furniture like the London Lightholder house. Everything in Stapleton had its place.
Betty made a face as she shrugged her shoulders, then took Rose’s arm.
“So tell me, child,” Betty urged as Rose led her to the sitting room, “Why on earth am I here? Are you not supposed to be in London for the week starting tomorrow?”
Worry filled Rose at her Mother's questions. She had just stated not a moment ago the reason for her invitation. Rose wondered then how badly her mother’s heavy drinking was starting to affect her memory; if a thingcouldaffect a person’s memory. Not wanting to cause an argument regarding her mother’s drinking, however, Rose chose a different tactic.
“Yes, Mama, that is true, but as I said earlier, you have yet to visit me, and I wanted to show you my new home,” Rose explained.As well as get to the bottom of some rumors,she thought to herself.
