Page 7 of The Earl’s Gamble (The Lovers’ Arch: Later in Life)

7

Rose

R ose never imagined she’d be intimate with a man engaged to another woman, but here she was. Last night, she’d let her feelings for Griff get the best of her, but the cold light of day brought with it a host of regret—particularly when Lady Jilly would be arriving for dinner later on.

“Happy birthday, darling,” Clarissa beamed at her son, passing over a large box meticulously wrapped in orange-and-cream chinoiserie paper. Dappled sunlight spilled through the music room’s windows, catching the steam rising from the teacups clustered around the table.

She’d been wary of another cup of salty tea at first, but this time Walker presented a dish of sugar cubes. Was this the kitchen’s way of ensuring they couldn’t be mixed up again?

Although with Walker’s snide glance at her, she knew the first time hadn’t been accidental.

She’d also asked Mrs Mercer this morning about the laudanum the house kept on hand, and she’d seconded Griff’s recommended one-teaspoon dose. Rose chewed on her lip. What would have happened if she’d taken Walker’s recommended three-to-four-teaspoon dose last night? Was that enough to be harmful? She didn’t know.

Griff thanked his mother, balancing it on his knees as he delicately unwrapped and unboxed it. Rose’s eyes locked onto the movement of his fingers, and she tried not to think about where they’d been last night—or how good it had felt. Or how he’d called her my lady . Her thighs pressed together at the image of him serving her . How it ignited something deep within her.

Growing up in Spitalfields hadn’t shielded her from the world. Quite the opposite. Their neighbour in Dorset Street had been a prostitute. The walls had been thin, and Rose had been an inquisitive young woman adept at poking her nose in windows.

On one occasion, she remembered looking in and seeing her neighbour had a client—a man who was on his knees before her, calling her mistress .

Rose had been a girl of fourteen at the time, but the image had set off a spark of something beneath her navel. She hadn’t known it was arousal back then, but oh how she knew it now.

She remembered questioning Cecil about whether there were really men out there who would yield to a woman. Cecil had confirmed it was a thing, but had also said he couldn’t understand the attraction.

Well, Rose did.

And the idea of Griff being subservient to her? Oh, good grief, she was in danger of dying of arousal.

Griff drew in an excited breath, yanking her back to the present. “An Aeroscope!” He grinned, hooking those talented fingers through a handle to lift it into the air for all of them to see. “I thought it was a shoebox at first.”

“Oh no.” Clarissa waved her hand, absent-mindedly stroking Flutter with the other. “The chap at the shop in London said you could take moving pictures with it. Was he right?”

“He was.” Griff excitedly turned the Aeroscope towards him to look down the barrel. “Quite right indeed. Thank you, Mama.” He carefully placed it back in its box before leaning over to kiss his mother on the cheek.

“You’re welcome, darling.”

Rose swallowed down her nervousness, picking up the gift she’d wrapped for Griff. The wrapping paper wasn’t as nice as Clarissa’s, either in the design or the neatness of the wrapping itself, but Rose hoped they’d like it. “This is for you,” Rose said shyly, flicking her gaze up to Griff’s for a brief moment before darting away. “For both of you, really.”

Clarissa sent her a confused smile, leaning over as Griff unwrapped the newly-mended christening gown and held it up. Her shocked gasp had Flutter’s head tilting. “Oh my goodness,” she choked, her eyes glittering with emotion.

“It’s as good as new,” Rose reassured her. It had been a tricky job, but she’d had nothing but time. “I—I know you wanted to pass it on to Griff.”

Griff let it flow through his fingers as Clarissa took a closer look, his heavy-lidded gaze landing on her with all the intensity of last night. “Thank you, Rose.”

“For your children with Lady Jilly,” she clarified.

His expression fell. “Lady Jilly?”

Clarissa didn’t notice, inspecting the robings of the christening gown with a reverent hand. “How did you even…?” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

“I did have some help from Mrs Mercer with materials and equipment, but I was a seamstress for more than twenty years.” Rose shrugged, pleased to see Clarissa happy. “I wanted to thank the two of you for everything you’ve done for me.”

Clarissa’s smile grew. “There’s no need to—”

A shrill ringing from out in the entrance hall caught their attention, a noise Rose had grown used to since she’d arrived. “I’ll get it,” Clarissa said, rising to her feet to dash to the telephone. “It’s probably Lady Starcross checking I got home okay.”

In the silence following Clarissa’s exit, Rose stood, cane in hand. “I’d better go and get ready for dinner before the guests arrive. Happy birthday, Griff.” She glanced down as Flutter stood on his back feet, reaching up towards her knees. “Who’s a good boy?”

Griff choked out a cough. He stilled her with a gentle hand on her elbow, just as Clarissa’s telephone conversation drifted through the open door. “About last night, Ros—”

“Last night was a mistake,” she whispered, desperately trying to convince him as much as herself. “I allowed my desires to drown out my conscience. I think it’s best we chalk it up to the heat of the moment and leave it at that.”

“Is this…” Griff swallowed, shame weighing down his features. “Is this because of what I said?” He glanced around at the empty room. “About serving you? About bein—?”

“No!” she blurted out, far more vehemently than she’d intended. “I—I liked it. But regardless of—of how much I might want something, you’re engaged, Griff, and I have no intention of being a kept woman.” Did she? Doubt simmered in her gut. A kept woman or the workhouse?

“Nothing has been—”

He cut himself off at the sound of clipped footsteps, but Rose took it as her chance to escape. She smiled at Clarissa on the way out, her leg still sore from the mistakes and excitement of yesterday. Rose couldn’t even blame her poor decision-making on the heat of the moment, regardless of her excuses. She and Griff had been flirting for weeks, one of them was going to break sooner or later.

She had been the first to fall, the first to give in, the first to forget her morals and surrender to the heat burning away beneath the surface. She shuddered with relief when she closed the doors to the lift, securing herself away from the danger of his touch.

When it came down to it, she knew being Griff’s kept woman was better than being in the workhouse, and if she’d fallen for his smile once, then it would only be a matter of time before it happened again.