Beautiful Things: Second Sons Book One
Beautiful Things: Chapter 38

The ride back to the house was torturous, worse than their first ride together. Rosalie sat sideways, pressed against Burke. She tucked her head under his chin, trying not to wince as the horse cantered down the lane. Burke kept an arm around her middle, holding her against him, while the other held the reins.

They cantered over the crest of the hill and his arm shifted slightly lower on her hip. With the angle of her body, the press of her legs together, the movement of the horse—his arms around her, his breath in her ear, the ghost of his kisses on her lips—she couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped her.

“Damn it,” he growled. “Keep making those noises, and I’ll change my mind.”

She smiled. It was almost too easy. Not that she wanted to torture the man. If she had her way, she’d have let him drag her into the woods. She was hungry for it, hungry for him. And she already knew what waited for her under this coat. She saw him at the stream—his broad shoulders, that muscled abdomen, the dusting of black hair across his chest leading down, down, to what the water kept concealed. She swallowed another moan.

“Rosalie, fuck, play fair.” His voice was low in her ear.

“I’m not doing it on purpose,” she replied. “I know you feel this too. When we touch,” she whispered. “Heavens, even when you just look at me, I want…” she left the rest unsaid. “But neither of us are in a position…we owe the Corbins more. You know they wouldn’t approve. I’m sure Lord James has already said as much to you.”

“They don’t own me, Rosalie,” he muttered. “James is my friend.”

“Nor do they own me,” she replied. “But we are guests in this house, and there are rules of conduct. I know it would trouble the duchess to think of the two of us…entangled.”

He lowered his face to nuzzle against her ear. “Christ, you can’t use words like ‘entangled’ when you’re pressed against my cock.”

“Control yourself, sir, or I will walk the rest of the way,” she challenged.

“You’re the one saying you want me, moaning like I’m already inside you. Who needs lessons in control?”

Heat flooded her core, even as she bristled in annoyance. He was too good at playing these games. “Careful, Burke. The more you vex me, the longer you’ll have to wait to kiss me again.”

“I’ve waited twenty-seven years to replace one single person who could hold my attention the way you do, love,” he replied. “I’m a patient man. It will make it all the sweeter when you set aside this ludicrous notion of restraint. We are inevitable.”

Those words sent a chill through her, cooling the fire in her blood. What was he hoping might come of all this? She had dared to assume that, given his position, he might not be interested in forcing their relationship to fit convention. Was Burke looking for a wife? If he was, she’d have to stop this before it went any further. Otherwise, the only inevitable outcome would be his pain, her tears, and two irrevocably broken hearts.

They arrived back at the house, and Burke handed her down into Lord James’ waiting arms. He took his leave with a softly spoken, “Miss Harrow.” Wheeling his horse around, he trotted out of the yard, leaving Rosalie and James standing together, watching him ride away with surprised looks on their faces.

“Do I want to know?” James muttered, one arm still wrapped around her.

“Know what, my lord?” she whispered, still watching Burke ride away.

“Never mind. Come along,” he said, guiding her gently back towards the house.

James called Doctor Rivers to examine her, and the duchess placed a moratorium on any other young lady riding out without an escort. In the end, Rosalie begrudgingly agreed to follow the doctor’s orders and submit to two days of bed rest.

She passed the first evening sitting quietly by herself, with nothing to entertain her but Renley’s book on astral navigation. She was grateful in the morning when Madeline came to visit. They sat together, sketching the large vase of flowers on her bedside table. Rosalie had to borrow paper from Madeline, as her sketchbook was still in the servant’s stairwell.

“They’re exquisite,” Madeline murmured after a while.

Rosalie smiled. They were exquisite. Spikes of blue delphiniums, little bunches of pink rambling roses, larkspur and hydrangea blooms. “They were an apology gift from Lord James,” she replied. “He still blames himself for my fall. Which is ridiculous,” she added. “It was no one’s fault.”

“Of course,” Madeline echoed, her fair brows lowered in frustrated indecision.

Rosalie set her cup of tea aside. “What’s troubling you?”

Madeline sighed, not looking up from her sketching. “It’s only…there are whispers…”

Rosalie’s smile fell. “Whispers?”

“Whispers of Lord James…and you,” she added. “Apparently you were seen together yesterday morning.”

Rosalie fought hard not to scowl. “There was nothing improper in our riding into the village. I needed to post a letter to my aunt.”

“That’s not where you were seen,” Madeline replied, still not looking up.

“Where then?”

“Outside his room…”

Rosalie took a shaky breath. Of course, they were seen. By whom? A maid? Nosy Mariah and Blanche? “My presence in that hallway yesterday morning was completely innocent,” she declared. “I’m sure Lord James would be more than happy to put any officious lies to rest. I’ll do the same just as soon as I’m able.”

Madeline shrugged. “It’s not my business, but I’d not mention the flowers outside this room. It would only fuel the fire…”

“Am I to assume the other ladies are preparing my pyre as we speak?” she said. “Shall I be burned at the stake for accepting his innocent attentions when no other lady seems inclined to do so?”

Madeline dared to glance up, those large, doe eyes looking at Rosalie with quiet confidence. “Just because the other ladies don’t approach him, doesn’t mean they don’t want to. And they don’t take kindly to encroachment from…”

Rosalie raised a brow. “From?”

Madeline settled back into herself, lowering her eyes away.

“From a penniless, grasping social climber who ought to know her place?”

Madeline smiled. “Maybe not those words exactly.”

Rosalie pursed her lips, fighting a smile. No, she couldn’t imagine any combination of those words escaping Madeline’s gentle lips. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I like to think that good people can prosper,” Madeline replied with a blush, echoing Rosalie’s words from the other day. “You need to know what weapons they will use if you’re to fight them.”

Now Rosalie smiled. “Are we going into battle then?”

“I’ve been taking fencing lessons since I was six,” Madeline replied with a shrug. “I can protect you if it comes to it.”

The images conjured in Rosalie’s mind were so absurd, so delightful, she burst into peals of laughter that made her tender side hurt. Before long, Madeline joined in, and the ladies passed the rest of the morning with Rosalie asking Madeline how she might win in a duel against each person in the house.

“Mr. Burke is strong, but I’m fast,” Madeline argued. “I would sting him like a bee.”

Rosalie laughed again, determined to do everything in her power to keep this delightful creature out of the hands of George Corbin. He could never deserve her.

Renley was the next to visit after lunch, his golden curls unruly as ever, with a nosegay of yellow roses clutched in his hand. “How’s the invalid?” he said as he entered.

“Perfectly well, as you can see,” Rosalie replied from her perch on the bed. Sarah rose and made a great show of fluffing her pillows so she could sit up more comfortably.

“I only just heard about your accident,” he said, brows lowered in concern as he surveyed her for injury. “From the way they talked downstairs, I half expected you to be partially decapitated…and for that horse to be Lucifer’s own steed.”

She laughed. “No such luck, I’m afraid. Nothing more than a tender shoulder and a bruised ego. And Magellan has been most egregiously maligned.”

He came around the side of the bed and offered out his flowers. “I thought you might like a little nature to admire…but I see you have a far superior arrangement here.”

The bouquet from James sat in a beam of sunshine.

“These are most welcome,” she said, reaching for the nosegay. “A lady can never have too many beautiful things.” She let her eyes settle on him, feeling a flutter inside as she realized she wasn’t only talking about flowers.

Sarah bustled over with a little vase in hand. She inched in front of him, breaking their eye contact, and took the flowers. She set them on the opposite bedside table.

Renley cleared his throat as Sarah reclaimed her seat. “Don’t get too excited about those,” he said. “I stole them from a vase downstairs.”

They both laughed.

“Your secret is safe with me,” Rosalie replied. “I believe I appreciate them even more knowing they were pilfered. Nothing so delicious as a stolen sweet.” She blushed anew, but this time it had nothing to do with the man standing before her. It was all for memories of a tall, dark handsome man with firm hands and the softest lips…

She didn’t know how to rationalize the way her heart so quickly fluttered at the thought of each of these men. All she knew was that attraction to one in no way affected attraction to the others. Here she was, sitting before the most beautiful man she’d ever met. He was kind and attentive. Her heart softened for him each time their acquaintance grew…even as she accepted that she could never be what he needed.

Burke. Renley.

Both.

All to say nothing of the enigma that was James Corbin…

“How I’d love to be inside your mind right now,” Renley mused, dropping into the chair next to the bed.

She swallowed. That would be dangerous in the extreme. “Only thinking of how the ladies must have reacted to a horse joining their game of lawn bowls.”

“Yes, I heard it was pandemonium,” he chuckled. But she could see in his eyes he was thinking of something else too. Something that required his eyes to fall to her lips. She needed to change the subject.

“Have you been riding the park in this heat?”

“I just arrived back from my brother’s house,” he replied. “I stayed there last night. My sister-in-law only just let me get away.” He glanced to the bed where her series of flower sketches sat scattered. He picked up the top one. “These are very pretty.”

She reached for the sketch by her knee. “Yes, Madeline and I—ahh—” For a moment she’d quite forgotten her pains and reached with her injured shoulder.

Renley was forward in a flash, one hand on her elbow and the other lightly touching her shoulder as he helped her sit back. The sketch he’d been admiring fluttered to the floor.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her skin heating at the points he touched her. His thumb made one gentle stroke along the soft inner bend of her elbow and her breath caught. He was close enough for her to smell that intoxicating scent of salt and leather.

He held on for a moment longer, their eyes meeting, until he abruptly let go and sat back. She was grateful for the space, even as she wished he would still touch her.

“Does it ache?”

Her eyes still held his, dark brown meeting deepest blue. What was his question? Did it ache? “Terribly,” she murmured, not knowing what particular ache she implied.

“This tea’s gone cold, miss,” came Sarah’s voice from across the room.

Rosalie jolted. Heavens, Sarah was still here. “Oh…yes. I haven’t offered you any refreshment,” she said looking back at Renley. “Would you like some tea?” Not waiting for the answer, she turned. “Sarah, would you mind?”

“Not at all, miss,” Sarah replied. She was already gathering the old tea things on a tray. She flashed Rosalie an excited smile as Renley’s back was turned, her intention clear. She was leaving Rosalie alone with the handsome lieutenant.