The Unaffected Earl Read online

  “Not if he told you he was marrying you to keep you safe. I assume, during that conversation, he said nothing to you about his feelings.”

  “No. I assumed he was being practical about my situation. I’d hoped though that I could make him care, but I can’t do that if he won’t allow me to get close to him.”

  Ellen reached out to squeeze her hand. “You have to be relentless. He’s trying to be noble, but if you want this marriage to be a real one, you’ll have to make him see just how much you want it.”

  Rose closed her eyes briefly. “This has the potential to be humiliating.”

  “Yes, but it also has the potential to be wonderful. My brother deserves happiness, as do you. I know that you care for him, and it’s obvious to me that he cares for you. You just have to make him realize it.”

  Rose considered the other woman’s words as Ellen rose and excused herself. She’d played the coquette all season, but somehow it felt different doing so with Brantford. What if he pushed her away? She wasn’t sure she’d survive the humiliation. But what if Ellen was correct and he didn’t?

  Chapter 14

  Brantford hadn’t seen Rose since dinner the evening before, but he was acutely aware of her presence in his home. He wasn’t running away exactly when he left after breaking his fast since he did have people he needed to see. But he’d seized upon the opportunity to give himself space.

  Dinner had been an awkward affair. He’d behaved as though they were polite acquaintances, not wanting to put any undue pressure on Rose. She’d hardly had any choice in the matter of their marriage, after all. But they’d fallen into silences that were more than a little awkward. He’d hoped Rose’s outgoing nature would help to ease those tense moments. From what he’d witnessed of her behavior toward others, she was far from shy. The fact that she hadn’t been comfortable at all told him he needed to make more of an effort.

  He wasn’t used to being the one courting another’s favor. He’d lived his whole life with others seeking his approval, and the more reticent he was in giving it, the more they sought it. For some reason, that wasn’t working with Rose.

  He wondered, for what seemed like the millionth time, whom Rose had hoped to wed in his stead. Somehow after this whole ordeal with Standish and her father was done, he’d have to go about the business of wooing his own wife.

  It was early evening when he finally returned home, and he wondered if Rose had already eaten.

  Miller was waiting for him and gave him a meaningful look before leading Brantford to the study. The fact that the man wanted privacy for this conversation had all his senses on high alert. Something was wrong, and his butler didn’t want his new mistress to overhear them.

  “What happened?” Brantford asked when Miller closed the study door behind them.

  “A package arrived for Lady Brantford.”

  He didn’t swear but he wanted to. He looked at his desk and saw the package in question resting on its surface. “Do you know who sent it?”

  “I’m afraid there was no return address. It was left on the doorstep. I don’t know how long it was there before it was discovered.”

  Brantford approached the package, which was wrapped in nondescript brown paper, simple twine holding the whole thing together. His jaw clenched when he saw it was addressed to “Miss Rose Hardwick.” Since the package was delivered to his doorstep, the sender would have known she was now his wife.

  He had no doubt that Standish was trying to provoke a reaction out of him. He would know that Brantford wouldn’t allow his wife to open a mysterious delivery.

  “Has Lady Brantford seen this?”

  “No. I made sure to keep it from her.”

  “Good.” Brantford reached for a slim knife he kept in his top desk drawer and cut through the twine. The paper fell away to reveal a plain white box. He lifted the top to find another box inside.

  Annoyance flared. He hated the games played by men who were trying far too hard to be clever and mysterious. He could just imagine the glee on Standish’s face as he put together the package and half expected that, in the end, it would contain nothing.

  Not willing to take that chance, however, he opened that box and the smaller one within. Finally, inside the third box, he found a folded, unsealed piece of paper. He opened it where it lay within the box, his heart stuttering when it revealed a strand of chestnut-colored hair.

  “Where is Lady Brantford?” His voice was sharper than normal, but under the circumstances he could hardly be expected to maintain his usual aplomb.

  “She is upstairs in her bedroom.” Miller didn’t ask what was in the package—he’d wait for Brantford to volunteer that information if it was necessary. But he was clearly taken aback by the urgency in his master’s voice.

  “Close that all up and lock it away,” Brantford said, striding to the door without a backward glance.

  He took the stairs two at a time, his heart racing. It wasn’t Rose’s hair. It couldn’t be. If he wasn’t mistaken, the shade was too red to belong to his wife. Still, if Standish had been hoping to provoke a reaction, he’d succeeded. Brantford needed to see for himself that Rose was safe.

  Rose was in the middle of writing a letter to her mother when her bedroom door swung open. Surprised, she smeared the ink.

  Sighing, she set aside her lap desk and turned to see who would enter what she’d hoped would be her private domain without so much as a knock. The last person she expected to see standing in the doorway was her husband.

  There was a wild look in his eyes that filled her with dread. Before she could speak, Brantford strode into the room.

  “Stand up, please,” he said.

  Something was most definitely wrong. “What has happened?” she asked, rising to face him. “My father…?” She was afraid to ask the question. They wouldn’t have hung him already, would they? Surely Brantford would have told her and allowed her to see him first.

  “Take down your hair.”

  “You’re scaring me, Brantford.”

  He ignored her, and when she didn’t move to do as he’d asked, he shifted so he stood behind her and began to unpin her hair himself. She remained silent while he worked. When he was finished, he spread her tresses between his hands. She looked over her shoulder and caught him examining a strand.

  “Please tell me why you’re acting this way.”

  Brantford met her gaze, then looked away. In that moment, his relief was unmistakable. “Standish is playing games. He wanted me to think he’d harmed you in some way.”

  She turned to face him. “You were afraid.”

  He met her gaze. “Yes.”

  They stayed like that for several seconds, then with a nod in her direction, he turned to leave.

  “Wait!” It came out a little louder than she’d expected, but in the short time he’d been in her room, she’d come to wonder if Ellen was correct about her brother caring for her. And it was clear to her that he fully intended to leave her alone, again.

  “I’m sorry that I frightened you, but I had to see for myself that you were safe.”

  “I am.” She stepped closer, then took a deep breath and, before she lost her nerve, said, “You don’t have to leave.”

  His expression shuttered, and her confidence faltered. Despite that, she pressed on. “We’re married. You don’t have to be so careful around me. When I agreed to become your wife, I expected to become one in every way.”

  He frowned. “If you think to play me like you did those who surrounded you so eagerly all year, you should know that I am not so easily led.”

  She licked her lips, and a shiver of awareness swept through her when he followed the movement. “I’d be perfectly content to allow you to take the lead.”

  His eyes darkened, and she found herself holding her breath.

  “You have no idea what you’re proposing.”

  She dared to take another step toward him and placed a hand on his arm. “What makes you think I’m innocent?”

&n
bsp; It was a lie, of course, and she was fairly certain he knew it. Still, it was possible Brantford would take her at her word. Instead, he took a step back and she let her hand fall to her side.

  Torn between grief and anger, she didn’t bother to hold back her thoughts. “I was beginning to think you had a modicum of feeling buried somewhere beneath that ice-cold facade of yours. But it’s true what everyone says. You have ice water running through your veins.”

  Despite the fact they were in her bedroom, she turned and started for the door, needing to get away from him. She only managed two steps before he reached out and grabbed her hand, halting her progress. For a moment she was torn, conscious of the heat of his hand engulfing hers. Her pride urged her to tug her hand from his grasp and leave the room, but her traitorous heart hoped he’d changed his mind.

  Her heart won and she turned to face him. Her pride wouldn’t allow her to throw herself at him again, however.

  “You’ve made it abundantly clear that ours will be a marriage in name only.”

  In reply, he tugged her closer. Mere inches separated them, and she waited, hoping he’d pull her even closer but expecting him to drop her hand and walk away from her.

  Chapter 15

  He should have allowed her to depart. He’d reached out to her without conscious thought, and now that she was so close, he ached to pull her against him. If she were anyone else, he wouldn’t be having this struggle.

  But he couldn’t let her go.

  “Would that I were made of ice. Then nothing you say or do would affect me.”

  He knew that admitting his weakness when it came to his wife would give her power over him. Power he normally yielded to no one.

  The moment that followed stretched between them, heavy with awareness. The only sound in the room was that of his breathing, which sounded unnaturally loud to his own ears. He told himself to release her hand and loosened his grip. He saw the realization in her eyes that he was going to turn her away. Again. Saw the hint of defeat reflected there before she could hide it. That, more than any plea she could have made, had him lowering his head.

  He’d just have a taste of her, then he’d do what needed to be done.

  But when she made a soft sound of contented surprise, one that sounded like surrender, and raised her arms to rest her hands on his shoulders, he knew he was lost. He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her against his body.

  What started as a simple pressing of his lips against hers deepened until he was all but ravaging her mouth, plundering within its depths much as he longed to surge within her body. He would have pulled away then, calling himself all sorts of names for treating Rose in such a manner, but she buried her hands in his hair and nipped at his departing lips.

  “Don’t you dare stop now,” she said as she resumed their kiss.

  His much-touted control was cast aside without a care as he molded her body against his. He might have growled, so great was his need, but instead of inciting fear in her, Rose responded with a breathy moan that had his hardening cock twitching in anticipation of what was to come.

  There was no stopping now, and in that moment he didn’t care.

  His entire world centered on the woman in his arms. She fit against him perfectly, just as he’d always known she would. She also was no shy maiden, although he didn’t believe her prevarication earlier about her innocence. But his new wife had a natural sensuality to her that drew every male eye. That he would be the first to initiate her into the world of passion was more than he’d ever expected. Certainly it was more than he deserved.

  Yet here she was, and he was tired of pushing her away. Tonight he would concentrate only on the woman in his arms.

  Her hands were under his coat, nimble fingers undoing the buttons of his waistcoat. He wanted to tell her to slow down, but her sense of urgency sparked a similar desperation within him. If they stopped or held back, this moment might not end where they both needed it to.

  And so instead of stilling her movements, he ran his hands along the hooks that marched down the back of her dress. It didn’t take him long, and he was pulling apart the fabric just as she spread his waistcoat open and splayed her hands across his abdomen.

  He groaned then, the feel of her hands, which were resting just above his trousers, causing a temporary madness to take hold. He spared only a moment to wonder at just what it was about this woman that could cause him to lose control so quickly. Many others had tried—he was no monk, certainly—but he’d always maintained his distance even while he spent himself inside their bodies. But with Rose…

  His thoughts shattered when she lowered a hand to cover his hardness through his trousers, and he tore his mouth from hers.

  “You are the very devil,” he said, his voice barely above a croak.

  “If that’s what you need to believe to tempt you to sin, then I willingly agree.”

  With that she took a step away from him and allowed her dress to fall to the floor. “Would you prefer to watch or take a more active role?”

  Her fingers toyed with the edge of her chemise and his mind went blank. All thoughts of others no longer had any place here. There was only a delightfully sensuous Rose and himself. And right then he wasn’t content to simply stand back and watch. He was all in now, and he would be the one divesting her of her clothing.

  She dropped her hand and watched him as he set about unlacing the corset she wore. When he freed the garment and tossed it aside, a kind of madness overtook him and he swept her chemise up and over her head, desperate to bare the rest of her body.

  He didn’t touch her yet, his restraint costing him more than he would have thought possible. But remembering her earlier words, he realized that he was content to step back and watch this last part.

  Rose was naked now save for her stockings.

  “Remove them,” he said, his eyes roving over her body. He was surprised that his voice was steady as he issued the command. His emotions were anything but. He wanted to rip the stockings from her body, but a small shred of sanity had returned, reminding him that despite her bravado, Rose was still a maiden. He wanted her to remember this night forever, and he didn’t want those memories to be of him savagely taking her without a thought for her pleasure.

  He almost swallowed his tongue when she bent down to do as he commanded, realizing that he had erred. He should have just left the damned stockings on. The sight of her bending before him, her tongue sweeping across that plump lower lip, had him stifling a groan.

  He must have made a sound, however, because Rose glanced up at him. He caught the uncertainty in her expression before she masked it, and he realized she was more nervous than she wanted him to believe. Their gazes met and held for several seconds before she looked away and resumed her task with quick, efficient movements. Another time he’d have her repeat this action more slowly, but right now he was anxious to move to the bed.

  He’d just shrugged out of his coat and waistcoat, not bothering to fold them meticulously as he normally did, and tossed them onto a chair in a casual heap when she straightened.

  Rose was perfect, softly rounded in all the right places, her hair framing her face and breasts in a rich waterfall of color.

  “Are you going to disrobe?” The quiver in her voice was faint but unmistakable. He knew that a great deal of it stemmed from the heat flowing between them, but there was a hint of fear beneath it. No, not fear. She wanted this as much as he did. But it would be her first time, and what woman wouldn’t be thinking about the pain that was about to come?

  He reached for her then, tugging her into his arms, and she came willingly. She raised her head as he lowered his, their mouths meeting in an almost violent clash.

  He explored her then, one hand reaching down to stroke, then cup her breast while the other grasped her hip and dragged her firmly against him. When he shifted that hand lower and dragged her leg up around his hip so he could press his hardness against her core, her moan tore through him like wildfire.
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br />   This time it was almost impossible to step back.

  “On the bed,” he said, another thrill of anticipation shooting through him as she hurried to comply. He made quick work of the rest of his clothing, aware that she was watching his every move. When he straightened again after removing his trousers and smallclothes, Rose didn’t hide her gasp.

  He was large, yes, but she’d have no basis for comparison. At least he hoped very much that was the case. It had never mattered to him before how many lovers his previous bedmates had had, but suddenly it was vitally important to him that he be Rose’s first.

  He shook away that thought and lowered himself onto the bed beside her, reaching out to bring her to him. The shock of her flesh against his was sweet madness.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he said, staring into her beautiful blue eyes, willing her to hear what he’d left unsaid. That he would be careful, that he would make sure she enjoyed their coming together.

  He started his exploration with a kiss, but it wasn’t long before he was dragging his mouth down the side of her throat and across her breast, taking a nipple into his mouth. He couldn’t stop looking up at her face, trying to gauge her responses. He’d stop if she gave any indication she’d changed her mind, but he didn’t expect that to happen. He was actually watching for her confirmation that she was enjoying this as much as he was.

  When she threaded her fingers through his hair, he switched and gave her other breast attention, his hands wandering lower. He hesitated when he reached the apex of her thighs, needing her approval before continuing. She took her lip between her teeth, which elicited a groan from him, and nodded.

  When he touched her core, he was relieved to find she was already wet for him.

  “Is it supposed to be like this?” she asked on a low moan.

  He couldn’t stop the smile that spread over his face. “Only if the man actually cares about bringing pleasure to his partner.”

  “And you care?”

  Their eyes met and held, his body frozen over hers.