Upon a Midnight Dream (London Fairy Tales #1)(63)

The orangery smelled delightful, she let herself in and closed her eyes. A male voice began to hum. Surely that wasn’t Stefan, that would be too romantic, it would be—

“—Have I found you? The one who makes me sing? Once upon a midnight dream…” Rosalind followed the voice as it became louder. “As I lay me down to sleep, my midnight dream I know will keep. The stars in your eyes tell me what your heart is afraid to say. That while I wait for my prince, he will one day say…”

She turned the corner and smiled. Stefan was down on one knee, roses in hand. He stopped singing and cleared his throat.

“My love…”

“Oh, good start,” Rosalind commented, laughing.

“Yes, I thought so, too.” Stefan smiled. “My love.” He winked. “With lips as red as a rose, eyes as blue as the sea, I find I cannot keep myself from wanting thee.”

“And it rhymes! How very poetic,” Rosalind couldn’t help saying.

“Yes well, I’ve worked on it all day. Now, may I continue?”

She nodded.

“Where was I? Oh yes, I find I cannot keep myself from wanting thee. When I close my eyes, all my mind conjures up is pictures of you. My perfect Rose. My love, you are my little dove.”

“Little dove?”

Stefan squirmed. “Yes, well, it rhymed with love.”

Rosalind’s heart burst with joy. How she loved this man! “Pray, continue.”

“Yes.” He cleared his throat again and looked at the paper, then cursed and threw it to the ground. In two steps he was in front of her, pulling her roughly against his chest as his mouth slanted possessively across hers. “I cannot exist without you.”

He kissed her until she felt her knees would buckle, his tongue teased hers in a game of domination and devotion. “I cannot breathe without you.”

His hands reached savagely into her hair, pulling it out of its pins as he moaned against her lips. “I am lost without you.”

“Stefan,” she gasped as his hands dipped into her bodice.

“Yes?” He sounded distracted as he pulled away her dress and corset.

“It seems you’ve discovered how to woo.”

With a laugh, he stripped her upper torso of any clothing. “All I needed was some inspiration.”

Rosalind let out a laugh as his lips claimed her throat.

“We must marry at once,” he joked.

With a burst of laughter, Rosalind pulled at his jacket. “Well, since you asked so nicely…”

“Come here.” He plundered her mouth as his hands roamed across her silky skin. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“And I love you,” Rosalind choked out as a tear ran down her face.

“No more talking,” Stefan ordered as he dragged her to the nearest table and pushed the plants onto the floor, making the pots shatter. With little effort the lifted her onto the table and used slow languid movements to show her exactly what he’d rather be doing.





Epilogue


“Your Grace?” Alfred cleared his throat several times before continuing. It was strange to see him out by the stables; he looked so horribly out of place. Stefan had half a mind to feel sorry for him. Was the man shaking? Unfortunately the near death experiences as well as the murders taking place under Rosalind’s roof did nothing but make Stefan paranoid about anything and everything.

“Yes, is something wrong, Alfred? You look ill?”

“Ahem.” Alfred gave Samson a nervous pat. “I am in need help, Your Grace.”

“What is it?” Stefan leaned in close. “A debt? Have you been gambling? Trouble with the law? Truly, I would do anything for you, Alfred. You need but ask.”

“I’m in love.”

“Yes, well, anything but that. Now, try. What can I help you with?” Stefan was the last person in London from whom his valet should be seeking advice. Had the man missed the past month when Stefan’s proposals set Rosalind to laughter and angered her enough to want to throttle him?

Just then Rosalind happened upon the two of them.

Alfred stared at the ground.

Stefan pulled at his cravat.

“What’s going on?” she asked sweetly, though Stefan knew the look in her eyes was anything but sweet. Mocking? Yes. Sweet? Absolutely not.

“Talking of weather, and horses—”

“I’m in love!” Alfred blurted, even though Stefan was shaking his head in protest.

Rosalind sent Stefan a glare before reaching out and patting Alfred’s hand. “Now, does the lovely lady know where your affections lie?”

“Oh, I’m sure if it! I just do not know how to go about this whole proposal business.”

Rosalind burst out laughing. “And you thought to ask him?” She pointed a shaky hand at Stefan and leaned against Samson all the while wiping tears from her eyes. It wasn’t long before Alfred too joined in the merriment. That left Stefan without an ally, for Samson was caught between the two with that gleaming smile on his face that was always mocking his master.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Stefan said sourly. “I can very well propose. I was nervous! That’s all.”

“Aw, it does these ears proud to hear so much laughter coming from the stables. What seems to be so funny?” Mary entered the stables hands on hips.