A Royal Secret

CHAPTER NINE

JEFFERY WAS THRILLED by the thought of having Rose sit so close to him again, and as his arms curled around her waist as they rode back to his estate that evening, he reveled in her closeness.

They were a short distance from his gates when the heavens broke loose and the rain poured down. Leaning closer to Rose, he tried to use himself as a human shield. But, by the time they were riding into the stable that evening, they were both soaking wet. He climbed down from the horse and turned to Rose. Holding his arms out to her, he placed her hands on his shoulders and wrapped an arm around her waist to help her down. Perhaps she slipped, for she fell against his chest. He gripped her waist to keep her from falling.

She gasped, her fingers digging holes into his shoulder blades as she fought to steady herself. Jeffery felt the unfamiliar feeling of warmth as he held her in his arms—it was stronger than it had been in the carriage.

Slowly, she pulled away, her fingers disconnecting from his shoulders. But he couldn't pull away, neither could he bring himself to release his hold on her waist. Perhaps it was the look in her beautiful brown eyes—eyes he had thought in the past were too large for her face, but suddenly appeared appealing to him—or the way her form trembled slightly in his arms, begging to be held. Perhaps it was the slight pouting of her lips that made him draw close until his lips were only inches from hers.

The strong desire to kiss her was almost undeniable, but it was quickly replaced by a fact that he couldn't deny; theirs was to be a temporary marriage. He was already cruelly taking advantage of her by choosing to keep her in a futile marriage, and she was already paying the ultimate price by agreeing to be her family's scapegoat in a wicked scheme to regain their lands. He couldn't ruin her any further than he already did.

Brushing aside her damp hair from her forehead, he stared into her clear brown eyes. "You're cold." It was all he could manage past the lump that had formed in his throat.

"So are you, Jeffery," she whispered. He thought she moved closer, for the distance between their lips seemed even shorter than it had been a second ago.

Jeffery frowned at the persistent voice in his head, urging him to claim her lips with his. "Then it is best we get out of these clothes," he said, his words coming out sharper than he intended.

She leaned back then; her gaze falling to the ground as she nodded to his words. "Of course."

Jeffery thought it best to let her go. Releasing his hold on her waist reluctantly, he stepped back. "Good evening, Rose," he said, yet he found it impossible to turn away from her.

She turned from him silently and made her way out of the stable.

~*~

Thoughts of her plagued him. It didn't matter how hard Jeffery tried, he couldn't get Rose Cartridge out of his head.

The memory of the evening of his father's ball replayed continuously in his head as he went about his day that morning, failing to realize the symptoms of an ailment that was ravaging his body, until he was throwing up all over the floors of his study. Before he knew what was happening, he was confined to his bed; the heavy blanket that laid on top of him, doing a feeble job of keeping his body from trembling.

Jeffery must have drifted to sleep, for the soft whispers around him pulled him out of his slumber.

"His skin is burning up," the voice was saying, lifting the blanket off of him. "The blanket won't help."

She came close then, lavender immediately filling his nostrils. A small smile settled on his lips at the realization of who it was; Rose. Something cold touched his skin, causing him to recoil.