His Christmas Match (A Gentleman's Guide to Once Upon a Time) (22 page)

Noah
entered through the door Penelope held open and set Rosalind in a chair.
 
“Don’t try to leave until I come for you,” he
insisted.

“I’ll
make sure she stays right here,” Penelope insisted with a grin. “It is my turn
to take care of her.”

He
exited and made his way to his own room, closed the door, and leaned back
against it.
 
Noah couldn’t erase the
memory of the pure joy on Rosalind’s face as they chased after the boys this
afternoon.
 
Her laughter warmed him, and
she wasn’t even upset about falling face first into the snow.
 
His heart had nearly stopped when he saw her
fall, however, and he rushed to her side as quickly as he could.
 
More of her laughter rang up to him, and he
knew she was not seriously injured.

Nor
could he forget how she felt in his arms and on his lap. Despite the cold, one
part of him remained warm, hot, and throbbing with need. Had the boys not
screamed, reminding him of where they were, who knew what else he would have
done with Rosalind.
 
His fingers had
ached to fill his hands with her breasts, and he was considering such an action
when they were disrupted.
 
Had they not
been cut short, would he have done more than simply molded those globes? Would
he have opened her pelisse and loosened her gown so that he could feast on one
nipple and then the next.
 

Noah
grew harder and pulled away from the door and began shrugging out of his
clothing. He would not have stopped at kissing her breasts but would have then
searched out what lay beneath the skirt.
 
Rosalind’s passionate response unleashed something primitive in him, and
Noah was surprised he remained restrained enough not to have laid her in the
snow and tossed up her skirts.

What
had he been thinking?
 
A woman such as
Rosalind Valentine deserved better treatment and respect.
 
All concern for her maidenly sensibilities
disappeared the moment his lips touched hers, and Noah feared that if they
found themselves in a similar situation again, he might not be able to keep
from taking what he wanted so desperately. But to have her fully, he needed to
marry her.
 

A
shiver ran over his body as the last of the damp clothing was pulled away, and
he rushed to gather a dry shirt and breeches and returned to stand before the
fire. Absorbing its warmth, he redressed to return to the others.
 
Only one part of him was not cold, and Noah
wondered how long it would be before it returned to its normal state.
 
If he kept thinking about Rosalind and how
perfectly she fit against him, he would be in this state for a very long time.

It
had been years since he had such fun or been engulfed with such strong passion.
 
Adulthood had brought responsibilities
and simple pleasures were forgotten until today.
 

What
would it be like to be able to stare into those deep, blue eyes every night
after they retired, and he put the responsibilities of the day behind him?

* * *

Rosalind
limped toward the fireplace and stood there absorbing its heat while Penelope
unbuttoned her dress and loosened her corset.
 
Her hands shook, and her knees were weak. But it had nothing to do with
being chilled or the fall.
 

She
wished she would have questioned Felding further. He had wanted to kiss her?
For how long and why? What did it mean?

What
of Lady Jillian?

“Let’s
get you out of those wet things.” Penelope’s voice intruded on her
thoughts.
 

None
of her clothing was dry thanks to falling into the snow. “Nothing is ruined is
it?” She asked and concern tightened her stomach.
 
She didn’t own the dress or the pelisse. They
belonged to Lady Sandlin.

Penelope
held up the garments studying them. “I see no damage.” She tossed them over a
chair and assisted in peeling the shift from Rosalind’s body before draping a
dry one over her.
 

“Besides,
if there was a tear, Phoebe wouldn’t mind especially when she learned how it
came about.”

Rosalind
turned to warm her backside.
 
“If you
find a tear, I promise to mend it or replace the gown if necessary,” she said
in earnest. “Perhaps your sister could take it from my wages.”

Penelope
laughed and retrieved a rose dress from the armoire, studied it, and put it
back.

“What
was wrong with the gown?” It was really quite lovely.

“It
won’t do for today.”

“The
lavender?” Rosalind suggested.

Penelope
shook her head and continued to look.
 
All of the gowns Lady Sandlin let her borrow were lovely, and she
couldn’t understand why Penelope was being so choosy.

“This
one,” she said brightly and withdrew a deep blue day dress.

Rosalind
sighed. That was her favorite, but she had held off wearing it wanting to use
it for a special afternoon. Not that she knew if there would be anything
special during this visit.

Penelope
came forward with a dry corset and assisted Rosalind on getting it fastened
before pulling her before the dresser and forcing her to sit before the
mirror.
 
With deft fingers, she removed
all of the hairpins until Rosalind’s hair hung down her back.
 
Penelope brushed out the tangles and began
twisting and turning the wayward curls into a semblance of order. “This isn’t
necessary. I can wear my hair as I always do,” which was knotted at the back of
her head to keep it out of the way while she took care of children.

“This
is much more attractive,” Penelope insisted as she piled the curls until they
were pinned behind her head and fell to her shoulders.
 
A few smaller ringlets escaped, and Rosalind
blew them away from her face.
 

“Leave
them for the moment,” Penelope insisted, and Rosalind obeyed anxious to see
what else Penelope did. Rosalind had no idea she knew how to arrange hair.
Didn’t she and her sisters have maids to do this for them?

Once
all of the hair was secure at the back of her head, Penelope used her finger to
form a curl around each loose hair framing her face. Rosalind had never seen
her hair styled in such a way. She certainly had never taken the time to
attempt it herself.

“Now
for the dress,” Penelope insisted, and Rosalind stood once again and moved
before the fire as Penelope helped her into the soft gown.
 

“Perfect,”
Penelope whispered after she stood back and looked Rosalind over from head to
toe.
 
“Take a look.”

She
led Rosalind to the looking glass and almost didn’t recognize the person
looking back at her.
 
Her hairstyle was
the current fashion, and the curls around the face seemed to soften her
features.
 
Though the dark gown made her
skin pale, her cheeks were a slight rosy hue, and her lips were redder than
normal. They even appeared a bit swollen.
 
Rosalind brought her fingers up and smoothed them over her lips. Were
they this way because of the kiss?

She
closed her eyes for a moment reliving the moments spent in Felding’s arms with
his mouth on hers and any chill that had remained was extinguished as heat
spread through her body.

Rosalind
nearly jumped at the scratch at the door and waited while Penelope opened
it.
 
Felding entered and stopped.
 
He took in the sight of her from head to toe.
His eyes darkened and a slight smile came to his lips.
 
Goodness, his eyes were almost smoldering,
and she began to heat further under his gaze.

“Should
you be standing, Miss Valentine?” He asked after a moment.

“My
ankle is only slightly sore. I will get by.”

“I
don’t suggest to try the stairs just yet,” Penelope insisted.

“I
am sure it will be no trouble,” Rosalind answered. If she took them one at a
time and held onto the banister, she could return downstairs without injury.
“Shall we return to the others,” she suggested brightly and limped across the
room.

Felding
was beside her before she reached the door. “I will not allow you to attempt
the stairs while you still limp.”
 

Before
Rosalind could utter an argument, he swept her back in his arms.

Any
protest that had begun to form died away.
 
When he carried her before, she could feel the strength of his arms
beneath her legs and around her back but both wore many layers of clothing.
Such was not the case now, and she could feel his muscles tense and the
strength of his body with each step he took.
 
There was no fear of him dropping her, and Rosalind had no concern as he
began to descend the stairs.
 

“Thank
you,” she said surprised she could take a breath once they reached the lower
floor.
 
The parlor was just around the
corner, and Rosalind found herself wishing it were on the other side of the
house so that she could remain in Felding’s arms for just a bit longer.

Eighteen

It
was all Noah could do not to march past the parlor where everyone had gathered
and onto the library where he could be alone with Rosalind. There he would
settle into a chair before the fire, with her cradled on his lap, as he
proceeded to kiss her as he had done outside. A cushioned chair was much more
comfortable than a snow covered ground and hard rock against his back. However,
Noah would not shame Rosalind in that manner, nor did he want anyone to note
his attraction as of yet since he was trying to discourage Lady Jillian. It was
his fault for encouraging her in the first place. Would Rosalind attach herself
to him because of the kisses they had shared?
 
The last thing he needed was two women by his side constantly. However,
he wasn’t so certain he wouldn’t mind Rosalind being with him whenever it was
possible for them to be together.

He
glanced down at the woman in his arms and knew Rosalind would not be in his
pocket even if he declared his love. Not that what he was feeling was love
because it was far too soon to determine exactly what his emotions were besides
desire and passion.
 
But even if they
were of a same mind and emotion, she would never cleave to him as if he were
her only lifeline.

Noah
stepped inside to find everyone still gathered and inwardly groaned knowing he
would be forced to put Rosalind down.
 
To
simply stand and hold her as he wished would certainly bring scandal down
around her ears.
 
He spied a chair not
far from the fireplace and on the opposite side of the room of Lady Jillian and
moved in that direction. Lady Jillian and her brother stood as to walk toward
them.

Noah
settled Rosalind in the chair and was about to sit in the one next to it when
Lady Jillian slipped her hand into the crook of his arm.
 
“Are you recovered from your outing?” She
asked smiling up at him.

“There
was nothing to recover from,” Noah insisted.
 

“And
what of you, Miss Valentine. How is your ankle?”

“I
am sure it will be better before I retire tonight.”

A
large, far from warm smile formed on Lady Jillian’s lips. “That is nice to know
though I don’t know what possessed you to act in such a hoydenish manner.”

Miss
Valentine lifted an eyebrow and answered. “Because it was fun.”

Broadridge
laughed and settled in the vacant seat Noah had planned on taking.
 
Mentally Noah cursed and wished the brother
and sister had not been invited.
 
It was
his fault they were here. When Meadows suggested them, then crossed the names
from the list because he wasn’t sure they would fit well with the others, it
had been Noah who insisted they be included. That was when he thought he wanted
Lady Jillian. He would rather remain a bachelor and risk the title going to a
distant relative than marry her.

He
looked over at Rosalind who didn’t even blink when Lady Jillian vaguely
insulted her and knew, in his gut, that Rosalind was the one he wanted to
marry.

“Lady
Meadows has tea, chocolate, cakes, and biscuits,” Lady Jillian said, turning
way from Rosalind. “Let’s get you something warm to drink, Lord Felding. You
must surely still be cold after your outing.”

Noah
glanced back over his shoulder. “Could I get you something, Miss Valentine?”

Before
she could answer, Broadridge stood. “I will see that she has a cup of
chocolate.” He rushed past Noah and Lady Jillian stopping before the two maids
who were pouring and filling plates.
 
Why
was Broadridge suddenly interested in Rosalind?

* * *

Rosalind
hoped she hid her disappointment of no longer being in Felding’s arms when he
settled her in the chair nor did she wish to reveal the stab of pain at seeing
Lady Jillian claim Felding’s arm. They were perfect for each other in status and
appearance no matter how much she wished to deny the truth.
 
They practically moved as one as Felding
escorted her across the room to the tea cart.
 
Would her heart ever stop yearning for Felding, or would she spend all
of her days wishing for someone who could never be hers?

It
would be even harder to put him from her heart and mind now that he had kissed
her.

Broadridge
returned and set a plate of biscuits on the table and handed her a cup of
chocolate.

“Thank
you.” She smiled up at him.
 

“It
was my pleasure,” Broadridge responded and settled into the chair on the other
side of the small table. He crossed his legs as men often do in polite company
and sipped from his cup.
 
The pinky on
his right hand rose straight and proud while the remaining fingers grasped the
handle.
 
So, this was how a future duke
took his tea.
 
She couldn’t recall
Felding, or any gentlemen of her acquaintance, sipping tea in such a manner.

Steamed
rolled off the top of her chocolate, and Rosalind breathed in deeply.
 
As a child, she wasn’t certain if it was the
play in the snow or the treats afterward that she enjoyed most. There was no
such confusion today.

She
took a sip and glanced at the gathering over the rim of her cup. Most were
seated, but Lady Jillian had led Felding across the room.
 
She held a teacup in one hand while her other
arm remained linked at his elbow. Today the play had been the best because she
had been with Felding.
 
There wasn’t much
joy in the chocolate as she had to watch him court another while she sipped it.

“I
was rather impressed with your aim, Miss Valentine,” Broadridge said to her
drawing Rosalind’s attention away from Felding and Lady Jillian.

She
arched a brow in question, and she set the cup back in the saucer she held on
her lap.

“Most
women do not know how to throw at least with any accurate aim.”

Laughter
bubbled up in her.
 
“When one has six
brothers, one learns quickly if she wishes to defend herself.”

“Yes,
well, I suppose.” He took a quick sip. “I would have never hit my sister with a
snowball or anything else.”

A
smiled pulled at Rosalind’s lips.
 
“You
weren’t even tempted once when she was a child?”

The
gentleman straightened and blanched. “Heaven’s no.” He sighed and looked over
to Lady Jillian.
 
“She was such a frail
thing. I would have hated to have hurt her in some way.”

Rosalind
followed his line of vision.
 
Lady
Jillian was rather dainty with the exception of her breasts.
 
Even the best modiste and demure bodice could
not hide the voluptuous form.
 
Is that
what attracted Felding the most?
 
She had
overheard her brothers speaking on more than one occasion about the anatomy of
women.
 
They didn’t know she was about,
of course.
 
And, it was usually late at
night while they helped themselves to uncle’s brandy.
 
They must have assumed everyone was asleep,
but too often Rosalind was in the library where she spent many hours reading
and would often fall asleep in there only to be awakened by their guffaws and
snorts.
 
What she never understood was
why men liked ladies breasts.
 
They
served no real purpose except for feeding babes.