An Improper Courtship

An improper midnight encounter

Edited

Meanwhile, Rosalie had ventured downstairs to make herself a cup of tea, it was a British tradition that she appreciated and she knew her way around the kitchen even if she was terrible at it. As she entered the kitchen she saw the silhouette of the familiar body she had dreamt of many times wrapped in a velvet robe. A robe that licked every inch of his wide shoulders and firm torso, one she had delighted in the feel of, a few days past.

"Of course, you'd be here" she blurted out. Blake's head shot up and his response came out as if he had been caught red-handed.

"You sound positively pleased," Blake countered,

"What are you doing here, exactly?"

"I wanted a hot cocoa, but I realised I don't know how to switch the coal oven on."

"You're useless," Rosalie started, she looked up and stared intently. He was always confident, in charge and in control but there was something humbling finding him in the kitchen. Blake simmered in anger, his initial shock at her in the kitchen dimming as their last meeting alone, came back viscerally. They had seen each other during the past few days, it was impossible not to they lived in the same place, but with the tense situation and the company of others, the talk was always polite.

"Shall we talk about what happened?" his voice rough with what verged on frustration.

"There's nothing to talk about, it was a mistake." Rosalie ignored his tone, lighting the fire and pouring milk into the pan.

"A mistake that has happened twice," Her heart dropped to her stomach and she swallowed hard.

"Have you never made mistakes?" she trailed her voice weak, her throat tight.

"The only mistake I make is letting you go each time we kiss," he said almost arrogantly. Rosalie turned to look at him dead in his eyes,

"Don't speak like that,"

"Don't speak like what? There's something very strong between us, Rosalie, don't deny it." Blake had gotten closer, there was still a gap for her to fit through and escape, but he had moved closer, every nerve of Rosalie's body was aware of it.

"Blake, don't start anything you can't finish," Rosalie choked, "You know nothing can come of us, giving in to this strong feeling."

Blake smiled.

"Why are you smiling?"

"Why are you always asking that question?"

Rosalie didn't want to tell him that she positively loved his smile and she was curious about him, about his thoughts.

"Why are you smiling?" She stressed the why,

"Because you admitted there is something strong between us ."

"Oh...Still..." her brain desperately searched for something to say.

"Rosalie, we will figure it out. We will find a way to be together, it's not complicated."

"I don't want to cause problems within the family, I don't know if Lady Kate would agree," Rosalie whispered,

"We'll just wait till we get to London and make the courtship official, in front of everyone."

Blake had yet again taken another step, the evening cold air stiffening as he waited for a response or a sign from Rosalie that she wanted what he did, right now.

"I'm not convinced,"

"I'm sure everyone will be happy for us."

"They'll know we've been up to things in the house, my father will know." Rosalie scratched the back of her head, she was finding excuses. Blake stepped closer and Rosalie scurried away her feet carrying her to the island in the middle of the kitchen.