Page 40 of A Love to Remember
“The tub can stay as it is for one night,” she said firmly, “and I’m quite capable of drying myself and hopping into bed.”
Elaine didn’t need to be told twice. “Thank you, Your Grace. I shall check that His Grace is settled first. Good night.”
Rose removed her dusty, grimy traveling gown, eased herself into the water and closed her eyes. When she found herself starting to doze she decided to keep them open. She would hate to fall asleep and drown in the tub.
Her pregnancy was probably the reason this trip had seemed longer than usual. The queasiness had started the previous morning. Whether the nausea stemmed from her condition or her trepidation at seeing Philip, she wasn’t sure. She hoped she wasn’t going to be too sick. It would not take her friends long to make an accurate guess as to why she felt so bad.
Another yawn almost cracked her jaw. Determined to wash her hair, she dunked her head under the water. She would sit in the chair by the fire and brush it as it dried. She didn’t care if she fell asleep in the chair. She could rest tomorrow.
While she hid from Philip.
But as she washed the soap from her hair she knew she couldn’t hide forever. A wave of nausea washed over her and she placed her hand on her stomach, caressing it gently.
How would she tell him? How angry would he be?
At that moment she didn’t care how he took the news. She was thrilled. She’d found something that would make the man she loved forego his ridiculous plan to remain unmarried and childless.
—
Philip paced his bedchamber like a caged lion.
Rose’s carriage had driven up close to midnight. It was now just after two in the morning. He wanted to see her. He knew it was a bad idea, but he wanted their first meeting to be private. He wanted to ascertain how she was, ensure his presence here did not embarrass her, and see how she wished to act when together in public.
He still didn’t understand why he’d accepted Kirkwood’s invitation. He told himself it was because at some point he and Rose were going to have to mix in society, and it would scotch rumors if they could demonstrate their mutual decision to end their affair and yet remain friends.
His heart, however, told him something different.
Thankfully, not all the guests had arrived yet. He waited until those who made up the party had retired for the night. Finally—and before he could change his mind—he slipped into the corridor.
He had made it his business to discover which suite had been assigned to Rose, so he wasted no time dallying in the corridor. Without bothering to knock he slipped quietly into her room.
A lantern glowed on the dresser by her bed, and the fire still burned bright in the grate. The bed was empty, and it was only when he walked around one of the high-back chairs near the fire, that he found Rose, curled up fast asleep, her hair spread across her shoulders like a shawl.
He saw the open door to her bathing chamber. Noted that the tub was still full of water. She’d bathed and then, being too tired to wait for her hair to dry before slipping into bed, she’d succumbed to sleep.
Gently, he touched her flowing tresses that glinted gold in the firelight.
She was so beautiful. He used to love lying in bed watching her sleep. Her expression was always peaceful, so peaceful he wondered what she dreamed about. He envied her sleep that was never interrupted by nightmares.
He stood looking down at her, undecided whether he should wake her. She looked exhausted.
He frowned. Her face was too pale, and there were dark shadows under her eyes. If he left her sleeping by the fire, she’d have a kink in her neck in the morning. Besides, once the coals burned low the room would become cold. It wasn’t snowing outside, but the morning brought heavy frosts.
It was probably best she got some rest. This time together was going to be difficult enough for both of them. Any conversation would just have to wait until tomorrow.
Carefully, he lifted her into his arms. She must be tired, he thought, for she barely stirred—and then only to nuzzle into his chest. He stood there holding her, torn between taking her to her own bed and carrying her down the corridor to his.
Finally, on a muttered curse he walked to her bed and drew back the covers. Then he laid her gently on the cold sheets, tucked her in as if she were a child, and placed a kiss to her head.
She snuggled deep into the downy bed, pulling the covers tight around her to ward off the chill. She mumbled something, but he wasn’t close enough to hear it.
Did she still dream about him, as he dreamed of her?
He had no idea how long he stood looking down at her, but finally it dawned on him that the fire was burning low and he should return to his room.
He took the coal bucket and stoked up the fire so that it would burn all night and keep the room toasty warm. Then, like a ghost in the night, he slipped out of her room, and back to his cold, lonely bed.
As he lay in the dark, indecision racked him. If he wasn’t strong this week, he might make a huge mistake. Rose was temptation incarnate.
