“Do you know why I came here?”
She shook her head.
“I did not come to find a silly book, or to traipse around looking for answers to the mysteries of Morton Manor.” Blood rushed through his veins at far too rapid a rate. “I came here for you. Nothing else matters to me. Everything else is a mere pebble in an ocean when I consider how close I came to losing you.”
Rose sucked in a breath as her hand came to rest at the base of her throat. “But I lied to you, just like Cassandra.”
“You’re nothing like Cassandra.”
Lord Stanton exhaled deeply, and Christian resisted the urge to turn around and tell him to bugger off. But it was Rose who reacted.
She glanced beyond the iron gate, and then at her brother. “We’re going to read the inscription on the memorial stone.” She didn’t give Stanton a chance to reply.
The hinges creaked as Rose opened the gate and slipped inside. Christian followed.
“I expected it to be a memorial to the fallen heroes of the Warner family.” Rose stepped closer and peered at the inscription. “But unless they had ancestors named Hyperion and Arion, I highly doubt it.”
While curious about the meaning behind the names, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her. She wandered around to the back, to the part hidden from view.
“Come and look at this. They’re not names of people, but horses.”
Christian followed her and was about to examine the markings when Rose jumped into his arms and kissed him. There was no time for a slow melding of mouths. Indeed, her tongue skimmed the line of his lips, seeking entrance. He cupped her cheeks, and tilted his head to delve deeper, tried to swallow down her moans of pleasure. Dainty hands moved over his chest, grabbing at his coat, pulling him closer. The scent of roses filled his head while the sweet taste of her mouth seduced his senses. God, her lips were hot, passionate, demanding. When he kissed Rose, the rest of the world melted away.
They broke on ragged breaths, touched foreheads and closed their eyes.
“How long does it take to read a few lines?” Stanton said. “A man was born and died, what more is there to see?”
“Leave them alone,” his wife whispered. “Just give them a minute.”
A shriek pierced the night air, the sound accompanied by raised voices.
“You might want to come and look at this, Farleigh. You’re missing the night’s entertainment.”
Christian opened his eyes and caressed Rose’s cheek. There was only one diversion he sought. Who needed jugglers or fire eaters when the woman before him stole his breath?
“If you don’t come now, Trevane is liable to murder a guest, perhaps even two.”
Christian groaned. Bloody hell. Vane’s scandalous past followed him wherever he went. The man held his temper in check with the flimsiest thread. One wrong word or insult and Vane would rip the place apart.
“Forgive me, Rose, but I am somewhat responsible for Lord Trevane this evening.” Christian had not seen his friend for years, but the bonds formed at school and in those formative years proved unbreakable.
“Come then.” She stepped out of their hideaway and led him to the gate. “You’re not a man who shirks his responsibilities.”
“Don’t ask me how it started.” Stanton gestured to the commotion near the steps leading to the terrace. “In all fairness, your friend attempted to walk away.”
The crowd dissipated to offer a clear view of Vane, his hands gripping the lapels of a gentleman’s coat as he held the fellow a foot or more off the ground. Vane looked set to rip the man’s throat out with his teeth. No one would dare step forward to stop him.
“I must take him home before he beats everyone here to within an inch of their life. I’m not really sure why he insisted on coming.” Christian wasn’t sure why Vane had asked to stay at his house in Berkeley Square when he had a property in London.
“His sister looks distraught.” Rose placed her hand lightly on his back. “We can continue our discussion tomorrow.”
Christian brought Rose’s hand to his lips and planted a quick kiss on her knuckles. “I shall call on you at two. We can study the book and decide how best to proceed.” He stared into her eyes. “And there are things I want to say that require privacy.”
“Until tomorrow.” Rose smiled. “Go now. Save your friend.”
Chapter Twenty
Rose sat at the dining table, buttering her toast and sneaking covert glances at Nicole and Oliver. They sat next to each other as opposed to opposite ends of the table, their chairs so close their arms touched. Oliver muttered something in her ear and smiled. Nicole blushed but shot him a look that said she was game for whatever it was Oliver had suggested.