Page 49 of The Lady’s Guide to Deception and Desire
If he did, the only obstacle would be the duke. Would he understand? A man had his pride… He mightn’t want them to live under his roof, but if he would give their marriage his blessing, a rift could be avoided.
There was so much to think about.
Rosamund rose, lifting Pom Pom into her arms. “You’ll excuse me, Ma. I’ve a slight headache. I’ll order a bath and rest for a while.”
“Yes, dear.” Her mother smiled benignly. “It has all been rather a whirlwind. Must be lively when we gather to dine. There are arrangements to discuss, and men are so much more disposed to agree to our whims when we’re at our most charming.”
Laying backin the warm water of her bath, Rosamund let her fingers trail over her skin.
This was what marriage would mean.
Sharing her body.
Giving someone else the right to touch her as he liked.
She thought of the duke being here with her now, carrying her to the bed and pressing upon her, touching his mouth to hers as Benedict had done.
Perhaps, before, she would have found the thought stirring but, now, she could only picture him with Madame Florian.
Her mind turned to Benedict.
When he’d kissed her, she’d quite forgotten about them being crushed under a desk. All she’d known was that he was close, and she wanted him closer. Her heart had fluttered wildly and her head had floated off, not feeling attached to the rest of her. It was most peculiar: all that just from pressing their lips together.
It didn’t mean she was in love, of course, but he made her laugh, in that odd way of his. She admired his cleverness, too—even if he did have a habit of rambling on about the oddest things. And, he was a decent person, helping with the land attached to the abbey, working to improve life for the people living upon it.
He was the sort of man she could imagine spending her life beside.
But did he want her?
When she spoke, did he listen and hear, or was she just a fleeting attraction?
Could he want to belong to her?
There was only one way to find out.
She would meet privately with Mr. Studborne and speak her mind. She wished to be honest: for him to know the financial ruin she faced.
Rising from the tub, Rosamund dried herself quickly and wrapped her dressing gown about her. At the small desk, she took out paper and ink and penned the note she would ask Jenny to take to him.
After the household had retired that night, she urged him to meet her at the folly. There, they would have the privacy to talk without being overheard, or seen.
There, Rosamund would put her question to Mr. Studborne without deception, and learn if she could be his heart’s desire.
Chapter 18
Benedict reached the folly first.
It had been easy to find his way, with the moon gazing from a cloudless sky. The night was alive with a glittering universe of stars, and anything was possible—because she was coming to him.
As soon as he’d received Rosamund’s note he’d hardly been able to wait. But there had been dinner to get through: a meal that had seemed interminable.
Mrs. Burnell had spoken endlessly of the wedding, and what a shame it was that there would be no other guests. His uncle had simply stated his wish for a quiet affair, that he was barely out of mourning and anything else was inappropriate.
Rosamund had said almost nothing. When he’d stolen glances her way she’d appeared uncomfortable, blushing at times; as demure as any bride-to-be.
He hadn’t trusted himself to look at her too often, for fear his uncle would notice the longing that must be evident in his face.
And now, here he was, as nervous as a new boy starting school: uncertain of the rules, what to say, what to do.
