Read Online Rose (Flower Trilogy) by Lauren Royal - Free Book Online
Authors: Lauren Royal
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mouths.
She was relieved when he pulled away—even more relieved when her mother’s distinctive soft laughter floated to her on the night. She turned and stepped back onto the terrace.
“Mum! And . . . you,” she added rather ungraciously as her gaze shifted to her mother’s right. There stood Kit Martyn, looking impossibly handsome.
A commoner had no right to look so good. She felt those champagne bubbles again, and she hadn’t even been drinking spirits.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him.
“Building a new dining room for the King. What have you been doing here?” he asked in a way that made it clear he thought he knew.
Rose felt herself turning red.
“She’s with me,” the duke said, sounding rather possessive. “Though what business is it of yours, I wonder?”
Picturing these two in a fistfight, she feared Kit might win. “Your Grace,” she said quickly, “may I present Mr.
Christopher Martyn. Kit, the Duke of Bridgewater.” She looked up at Gabriel. “He’s a friend of the family,” she added, feeling it necessary to explain.
“And I asked Kit to help me search for you,” her mother put in. “I felt it unsafe, as a woman, to be out in the dark alone.”
“Yes, ’twould not have been wise.” Kit held Gabriel’s gaze until the man looked away. “I’m glad to have been of service, but I must be off. I’ve much to accomplish before tomorrow. Lady Trentingham, Lady Rose.” He nodded toward them both, then addressed the duke with an elegant bow. “Your Grace.”
Slightly disconcerted, Rose watched him walk away.
“We should return as well,” her mother told her. “I am grateful to have found you in such safe hands.”
If Chrystabel’s voice held a bit of warning, Rose chose to ignore it. On their way back to the drawing room, she smiled up at Gabriel. She’d liked the way he’d made it clear she was there with him.
He truly was perfect, and it wasn’t his fault that she didn’t enjoy his kisses.
She’d listened, jealous beyond belief, while her sisters rhapsodized about the sensual kisses they enjoyed with the men who were now their husbands. But kisses had never been like that for her. In all honesty, she found them more than a mite disgusting.
Of course, she’d never told her sisters that, so she sometimes wondered if they, too, were hiding their distaste. But she thought not. Both her sisters were honest to a fault.
How they could enjoy men mauling their mouths was beyond her, but apparently they did.
She wished it could be the same for her, but experience had convinced her otherwise. She could only hope that the rest of what happened between men and women wasn’t nearly as repugnant.
Chapter Seven
“ Iam pleased.” King Charles nodded thoughtfully, his dark eyes skimming the dining room again with approval. “And I’m satisfied with your explanation, Mr. Martyn. Do be certain, however, to complete this project per schedule.”
“I can assure Your Majesty that will not prove a problem.” Kit walked with Charles toward the double doors and threw them wide. “I thank you for taking the time to visit.”
Kit smiled as he watched the King make his way through the vestibule, several of the man’s ever-present spaniels yipping after him. After pulling the doors shut, he unfolded some tarpaulins and laid them near the side of the chamber that was supported by scaffolding. Then he strode through a door at the other end, along a corridor, and into Brick Court. “Come along, now! Beams, lumber—move!”
Dazed, he stepped aside to let the workmen through with the first of the new materials he’d ordered. If it wouldn’t be such a bad example, he’d slump against the wall.
He’d passed.
He wandered back along the corridor and into the dining room, keeping out of his crew’s way. He’d been up all night supervising, reevaluating, working with his own hands while his men secured the damaged area and hauled away all evidence of the mishap.
She was relieved when he pulled away—even more relieved when her mother’s distinctive soft laughter floated to her on the night. She turned and stepped back onto the terrace.
“Mum! And . . . you,” she added rather ungraciously as her gaze shifted to her mother’s right. There stood Kit Martyn, looking impossibly handsome.
A commoner had no right to look so good. She felt those champagne bubbles again, and she hadn’t even been drinking spirits.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him.
“Building a new dining room for the King. What have you been doing here?” he asked in a way that made it clear he thought he knew.
Rose felt herself turning red.
“She’s with me,” the duke said, sounding rather possessive. “Though what business is it of yours, I wonder?”
Picturing these two in a fistfight, she feared Kit might win. “Your Grace,” she said quickly, “may I present Mr.
Christopher Martyn. Kit, the Duke of Bridgewater.” She looked up at Gabriel. “He’s a friend of the family,” she added, feeling it necessary to explain.
“And I asked Kit to help me search for you,” her mother put in. “I felt it unsafe, as a woman, to be out in the dark alone.”
“Yes, ’twould not have been wise.” Kit held Gabriel’s gaze until the man looked away. “I’m glad to have been of service, but I must be off. I’ve much to accomplish before tomorrow. Lady Trentingham, Lady Rose.” He nodded toward them both, then addressed the duke with an elegant bow. “Your Grace.”
Slightly disconcerted, Rose watched him walk away.
“We should return as well,” her mother told her. “I am grateful to have found you in such safe hands.”
If Chrystabel’s voice held a bit of warning, Rose chose to ignore it. On their way back to the drawing room, she smiled up at Gabriel. She’d liked the way he’d made it clear she was there with him.
He truly was perfect, and it wasn’t his fault that she didn’t enjoy his kisses.
She’d listened, jealous beyond belief, while her sisters rhapsodized about the sensual kisses they enjoyed with the men who were now their husbands. But kisses had never been like that for her. In all honesty, she found them more than a mite disgusting.
Of course, she’d never told her sisters that, so she sometimes wondered if they, too, were hiding their distaste. But she thought not. Both her sisters were honest to a fault.
How they could enjoy men mauling their mouths was beyond her, but apparently they did.
She wished it could be the same for her, but experience had convinced her otherwise. She could only hope that the rest of what happened between men and women wasn’t nearly as repugnant.
Chapter Seven
“ Iam pleased.” King Charles nodded thoughtfully, his dark eyes skimming the dining room again with approval. “And I’m satisfied with your explanation, Mr. Martyn. Do be certain, however, to complete this project per schedule.”
“I can assure Your Majesty that will not prove a problem.” Kit walked with Charles toward the double doors and threw them wide. “I thank you for taking the time to visit.”
Kit smiled as he watched the King make his way through the vestibule, several of the man’s ever-present spaniels yipping after him. After pulling the doors shut, he unfolded some tarpaulins and laid them near the side of the chamber that was supported by scaffolding. Then he strode through a door at the other end, along a corridor, and into Brick Court. “Come along, now! Beams, lumber—move!”
Dazed, he stepped aside to let the workmen through with the first of the new materials he’d ordered. If it wouldn’t be such a bad example, he’d slump against the wall.
He’d passed.
He wandered back along the corridor and into the dining room, keeping out of his crew’s way. He’d been up all night supervising, reevaluating, working with his own hands while his men secured the damaged area and hauled away all evidence of the mishap.
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