Page 77
Story: Dukes All Summer Long
The clattering sound of smashing porcelain mingled with shocked gasps from the other patrons as Rose clasped her hand to her mouth, muttered a final apology, and fled.
She was dimly aware of Sebastian leaping forward to catch the teapot mid-fall, of the uniformed waitress hurrying over, and of the scandalized tutting of a society miss, whose eyes gleamed with amused contempt.
What a spectacle.
Rose’s face was aflame with embarrassment by the time she finally reached the door.
She heard Elin calling her name but could not turn back for all the world.
She wrenched it open, much to the surprise of an elderly gentleman on the other side, and flung herself down the steps, running down the cobbles with her hands clutching her skirts and nausea swirling in her belly.
She knew not where she was going, only that she wanted to put as much distance between herself and everyone as possible.
A fresh breeze whipped around her face and neck as she reached the sandy bay.
Rose looked right and left. The beach was narrow, formed by a long strip of sand which curved around the cliffs.
She wasted no time in walking briskly away from the crowds, finding solace in the shade and privacy of the rearing rocks.
Here, the air smelled damp and briny. The sand was soft beneath her slippers.
She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
I have made a fool of myself.
It was a week of firsts, she reflected. The first time she had disobeyed her family.
The first time she had disgraced herself in public.
Soon, the list of firsts would grow even longer.
She would apply for her first position of paid employment.
She would learn what it was to be a governess in a house, not a guest or a daughter.
With no one about to see her, Rose sniffed and wiped her eyes.
Better to become a governess than marry a man she despised.
A man who wanted her only for her dowry and her name.
If only her darling papa had not died. Then her future would be different indeed.
But Rose had learned long ago that there was no sense in wishing for what might have been.
She put her back against the warm granite stone and turned to face the sparkling waves. Gulls cried overhead, drowning out any of the chatter and noise from Hawkesmere. She could have been a hundred miles away from the coffee house.
From Sebastian.
As if she had conjured him with her thoughts, he appeared around the cliffs, striding out confidently across the damp sand.
“Rose.”
The sound of her name on his lips was a caress. He did not reprimand, scold, or even purse his lips at the scene she had caused. He only closed the distance between them and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“I am glad to have found you,” he said.
His words unleashed the dam inside her and in the next moment she was leaning against his broad chest, sobbing in the most unappealing fashion. Great, choking sobs stole both her breath and her dignity as tears ran down her cheeks.
“Don’t cry,” he whispered.
But that only made her sob harder.
And then he was kissing her tears away. Soft, warm, butterfly kisses which danced upon her face as his arms crept around her waist. Somehow, his lips found hers and Rose discovered this was the one thing in all the world that could stem the sorrow coursing through her.
Indeed, the sorrow became something more akin to joy as her mouth melded with Sebastian’s and his hands stroked a path all the way down her spine.
She reached up and hooked her hands around his neck, pulling him closer and savoring the rasp of stubble on her tender skin.
She blinked in the simmering heat as his brown eyes met with hers.
“I am sorry.” He sounded as surprised as she was.
Rose shook her head. “I am not.” It was the only thing she was certain of. Standing in the circle of Sebastian’s embrace felt good and right.
Before he might pull away, she rose up on her tiptoes and claimed his mouth all over again, pressing herself against the hard length of his body.
When his tongue gently probed inside her lips, she gasped at the thrill of it, entwining her fingers in his hair and ensuring he might not pull away.
Time stood still as they kissed on the sand with the waves crashing behind them.
Rose felt intoxicated by it all; by the masculine taste and smell of him, which was leather and soap and something sharper; by the sheer height and width of him; and by the giddy emotions shooting through her limbs, causing new, unguessable sensations deep in her core.
She might never have pulled away, were it not for the sound of someone clearing their throat repeatedly.
Sebastian must have become aware of it at the same time. He pulled away, although his hands remained on her waist.
Rose did not want to come back to reality. With great reluctance, she tilted her head to one side, looking beyond Sebastian to the small group of people gathered on the sand. At their head stood Elin.
“Sebastian,” she gasped, one hand to her throat. “And Lady Rose. Whatever are you doing?”
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