Rose in Bloom (Sex and the Season #2)(52)

The two men continued laughing together. The port was smooth, and the cigar began to taste much better by the time Cameron was finished. If this was the high life, he was ready for it.



“Pardon me, sir, but Mr. Larson is here to see you.”

“Christ.” Dorrance Adams extricated his cock from the whore he was f*cking and turned toward his servant’s voice. “Could this have possibly waited a few minutes? And did you consider knocking?” He buried his erection in his trousers and grunted.

“I beg pardon, sir. I knocked but you didn’t answer. And you told me to always fetch you straightaway for anything Mr. Larson deemed important. And he says this is important. Quite important.”

“Fine, fine.” He shooed the woman away. “I’ll be down in a moment.” He straightened his trousers, his cock still hard and unsated. He willed it down. Or tried to, anyway.

Within minutes he met Larson, a constable who’d been on his payroll for decades, in his sitting room.

“What in God’s name is it, Larson?”

“I’m sorry, Adams, but I knew this would interest you.”

Adams sat and motioned for Larson to as well. “Get on with it, then.”

“I got word from one of my informants that a man was looking for work in Bath all day yesterday. He left his calling card in numerous places.” Larson handed a card to Adams.

“Why on earth would I—” Adams jerked forward, his eyes wide. Cameron Price. Then he shook his head, regaining his composure. “It’s a common enough surname. This is of no consequence.”

“That was my first thought as well, but the young man fits the description of the bastard and his father. Dark hair, silver-grey eyes.”

“Impossible. The bastard was killed decades ago.”

Larson cleared his throat. “Yes. There’s no way he could have survived that beating.”

“Then what is this about?”

“He might have fathered a child. I don’t know. I’ll find out all I can. But I thought you’d want to know.” Larson nodded and left the room.

“God damn it,” Adams said under his breath. “God damn it all to hell.”





Chapter Eleven


Near the end of the week, Rose summoned Lily’s coach and rode out to the Prices’ cottage, determined to find out the truth. She had stayed away for a week, but she couldn’t get the words of Cameron’s mother out of her mind. She had intended to honor the older woman’s wish for her to stay away, but damn it, she needed to know. Did Cameron love her? Mrs. Price had indicated he did. Yet Cam himself denied it.

But he had kissed her the previous week, a kiss filled with love and passion. Rose expected Evan to propose to her any day now. Before she could decide how to respond, she had to know the truth of Cam’s feelings.

Her heart thumped as the carriage stopped in front of Cameron’s cottage. Bracing herself to be strong, she descended with the help of Lily’s coachman. She breathed deeply and readied herself for a fight with Cameron’s mother, who had told her in no uncertain terms that she was never to return here. Rose knocked hesitantly on the door.

No response. She knocked more forcefully.

Again no answer. The door was slightly ajar so she opened it and went in. “Mrs. Price?” she called. “Cameron?”

She walked out of the small entryway and into the sitting area. She breathed in sharply, shocked. The house was vacant. The tattered chairs in the corner were gone. The worn brocade sofa was gone. The twangy pianoforte, gone. Quickly she ran from room to room. Everything was gone. She ran out the back door to the hired man’s cabin. The slipper tub was gone. The nightstand and the table and chairs were gone. But the bed, where she and Cameron had made love, remained, the covers still rumpled.

She walked to it and sat down, brought the quilt to her face and inhaled. Cameron’s spicy aroma still permeated the fabric. Slowly she lay down upon the bed, enfolding herself in Cam’s scent. He hadn’t taken the bed. He had left it.

He had left her.

She wept quietly into the pillow.

Several minutes later she rose from the bed, folding the quilt neatly. She would take it, as a token to remember her time with Cameron. He hadn’t wanted it or the bed. Apparently she had meant nothing to him after all. His mother had been mistaken. A huge sigh escaped Rose’s throat as she wiped her eyes and nose on the folded comforter and threw it back on the bed.

She would leave it. The time had come to say goodbye to Cam and what they had shared. She would get on with her life.

She would accept Evan’s proposal when it came.



When Rose returned to Laurel Ridge, she was surprised to see Evan’s carriage. Although it was Friday, he and his father weren’t due to arrive until later that afternoon. She stepped out of the carriage and hurried into the mansion. She knew her eyes were red and swollen and her cheeks stained with tears. She nearly ran to the staircase, hoping to avoid Evan, but ran straight into Lucy.

“Goodness, dear, why are you in such a hurry?” Lucy widened her eyes. “What is the matter?”

“I’m sorry, Aunt Lucy, I should have been looking where I was going,” Rose replied, and then burst into tears.

“Darling girl, come with me.” Lucy led her up to the third floor, to her suite of rooms in the north wing. She rang for a tea tray, sat Rose down on a rich brown velvet sofa, and took her hand.