Rose in Bloom (Sex and the Season #2)(2)
He turned to look at her beautiful face flushed like a ripe raspberry. “Yes?”
“I… May I go now?”
“No, don’t go.” Beau took her delicate hand and lightly brushed his lips over. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t… It will be better for you the next time. I’ll make sure of it.”
She smiled. “Aye, I know, my lord.”
But a next time never came. When Beau came home from Oxford on holiday, Joy was gone.
Chapter One
Laurel Ridge, Lybrook Estate, Wiltshire County, England
Wedding Ball for the Duke and Duchess of Lybrook, 1853
Cameron Price downed his fourth glass of champagne and cursed the day he’d ever laid eyes on Lady Rose Jameson. Watching her waltz with Lord Evan Xavier for the fifth time this evening was more than he could stomach
When the Duke of Lybrook had approached him six weeks earlier to compose a wedding waltz for his bride, Cameron had no choice but to take the commission. His family, tenants on the Lybrook estate, needed the money badly, and the sum of two hundred pounds also offered him the opportunity to hire a man to work his family’s farm so he could devote more time to his music.
The duke had insisted that he work closely with Lady Rose, a talented pianist, while composing the waltz, so she would be adequately prepared to play it at the wedding. The many hours of sitting next to her at the piano, working out measures and harmonies, their elbows grazing as her fingers danced across the keys… He’d nursed many a cockstand afterward. Fighting his attraction to her had become a loathsome burden, a constant duel between his head and his heart. Her sapphire eyes haunted him. Even in slumber he found no peace. Rose’s beautiful visage tormented him in his dreams.
No one played as Rose did. She made the pianoforte sing, giving Cameron’s music a power and seductiveness it didn’t otherwise possess. The waltz had been well received tonight, but he had no doubt that Rose’s interpretation, not his talent as a composer, had made the difference.
Watching her now, in the arms of Xavier, who was courting her, felt like a punch in the gut.
No.
More like a stampede of heavy-hoofed stallions trampling him.
Xavier had been an oarsman at Weston and was consequently a big man, tall and blond with friendly brown eyes and a pleasantly handsome face. Surely a perfect match for the quietly virtuous Rose.
Cameron disliked him on principle.
Cam had bedded his share of females in the past, but never before had he felt such an intense attraction to a woman as he did for Rose. He ached inside. She was meant for parties and high teas, silk gowns and diamonds. He had nothing to offer her.
He set his champagne glass down on the refreshment table and walked out of the ballroom.
“You’re not leaving yet, are you, Mr. Price?”
Cameron turned to face the duke’s mother, Morgana Farnswroth, the Dowager Duchess of Lybrook.
“Yes, Your Grace,” he said. “I believe it is time I got back to my family.”
“We’ll be serving a small meal at midnight. Won’t you stay and join us?”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t impose.”
“Nonsense. The duke and duchess would never forgive me if I let you leave. Everyone here is dying to talk to you about your compositions. You have an exciting career ahead of you.”
“Thank you for the compliment, Your Grace.” Cameron bowed politely. “However, I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to stay. After all, I’m one of the duke’s tenants.”
“You’re an invited guest,” the duchess said.
Cameron sighed. If these people wanted to speak to him about his music, he couldn’t afford to leave yet. Perhaps it might lead to another commission, and he needed the money to provide for his widowed mother and two younger sisters. “Thank you, Your Grace. I would be honored to stay.”
“Wonderful, Mr. Price. Please make yourself welcome.” She touched his arm in a maternal fashion and then hurried off to speak to another group of guests.
Cameron headed back toward the refreshment table, inhaled another glass of champagne, and strode toward the ornate double doorway that led to the back terrace. He needed some fresh air.
Rose thanked Evan for the waltz and hurried to the ladies’ retiring room to check her appearance. Her pale green satin gown was in fairly good shape, considering she had been wearing it since early afternoon. She fussed with her blond tresses a bit, which were swept atop her head in an elaborate coiffure of cascading curls, and then bit her lips and pinched her cheeks. The midnight meal was only minutes away. Rose was not hungry, but it would be bad form not to attend. She smiled in the looking glass as she thought of her sister, Lily, who had already left the ball with her new husband, Daniel, the seventh Duke of Lybrook. They would no doubt be missing the repast, as well they should. To have a wedding night with the man she loved—Rose envied her sister’s good fortune.
Seven weeks ago the sisters had come to Laurel Ridge with their parents, the Earl and Countess of Ashford, and their brother, Thomas, Viscount Jameson, for a pre-season house party hosted by the Duke of Lybrook. Lily had caught the eye of the duke soon thereafter, and the two had fallen deeply in love. The way they looked at each other took Rose’s breath away. She couldn’t imagine feeling that intensely for someone.