If Chrystabel’s voice held a bit of warning, Rose chose to ignore it.
On their way back to the drawing room, she smiled up at Gabriel. She’d liked the way he’d made it clear she was there with him. He truly was perfect.
It wasn’t his fault she didn’t enjoy his kisses.
She’d listened, jealous beyond belief, while her sisters rhapsodized about the sensual kisses they enjoyed with the men who were now their husbands. But kisses had never been like that for her. In all honesty, she found them more than a mite disgusting.
Of course, she’d never told her sisters that, so she sometimes wondered if they, too, were hiding their distaste. But she thought not. Both her sisters were honest to a fault. How they could enjoy men mauling their mouths was beyond her, but apparently they did.
Though she wished it could be the same for her, experience had convinced her otherwise. She could only hope that the rest of what happened between men and women wasn’t nearly as repugnant.
ELEVEN
“I’M PLEASED.” King Charles nodded thoughtfully, his dark eyes skimming the dining room again with approval. “And I’m satisfied with your explanation, Mr. Martyn. Do be certain, however, to complete this project per schedule.”
“I can assure Your Majesty that will not prove a problem.” Kit walked with Charles toward the double doors and threw them wide. “I thank you for taking the time to visit.”
Kit smiled as he watched the king make his way through the vestibule, several of the man’s ever-present spaniels yipping after him. After pulling the doors shut, he unfolded some tarpaulins and laid them near the side of the chamber that was supported by scaffolding. Then he strode through a door at the other end, along a corridor, and into Brick Court. “Come along, now! Beams, lumber—move!”
Dazed, he stepped aside to let the workmen through with the first of the new materials he’d ordered.
If it wouldn’t be such a bad example, he’d slump against the wall.
He’d passed.
He wandered back along the corridor and into the dining room, keeping out of his crew’s way. He’d been up all night—supervising, reevaluating, working with his own hands—while his men secured the damaged area and hauled away all evidence of the mishap. He’d attached countless strips of decorative molding, polished all the oak paneling, stripped off the tarpaulins and polished the new floor, too. All in hopes of charming the king’s eye.
He’d passed.
Dropping onto a fresh stack of wood and using it as a chair, he flipped blindly through a book of architectural renderings. He should go home; he was exhausted and needed to check in with his sister. Ellen had a habit of finding trouble when he wasn’t around.
The drawings before him blurred.
He’d passed.
All was not lost.
When the double doors reopened, his heart seized as he wondered wildly whether the king had some complaint, after all. When two women entered instead, he sagged with relief. Then sat straight when he recognized them.
Rose and her mother, both dressed in bright, cheerful colors. Surely a sight for tired eyes.
“Oh!” Lady Trentingham exclaimed, meeting his gaze. “I didn’t expect to find you here.”
He wouldn’t wager on that.
“I just wanted to show Rose this beautiful chamber,” she added.
Kit shut his book. “I was about to leave, anyway. It’s time I went home.”
“Home? Surely you’re not finished here. It looks wonderful, but—”
“It’s stunning, Mum! Even better than you described.” Rose gazed up at the ceiling. “Beauty and whimsy all rolled into one. I am not overly fond of the decoration here at Windsor. Overdone, if you ask me. But this room doesn’t take itself as seriously as the others.”
“Thank you,” Kit said. Relishing the admiration in her voice, he watched her wander the chamber, touching a carved panel, the white marble mantel, a bit of grooved wainscoting. Smiling, he turned to her mother. “The project is well in hand for the moment; I’m not abandoning it, I assure you. I live right here in Windsor. Not a ten minute walk.”
“Is that so? I imagine your home must be lovely.”
He knew a hint when he heard one. “Would you like to see it?”
“Mum, I don’t think—”
“We’d love to,” Lady Trentingham cut in. “Weren’t you just saying, dear, how tedious it is here in the daytime?”
TWELVE
KIT LED THEM on the easy walk from the castle down the hill to the Thames. Rose decided it felt good to be out in the fresh air. And there truly was nothing to do at Windsor Castle in the daytime…with the exception of the palace staff, it seemed everyone was still abed, sleeping off the excesses of the night before.
When Rose had hit her pillow after midnight, court had still been in full swing. She would have to adjust her country hours and perhaps take a nap this evening before court got underway. They had just begun setting up gaming tables when she left. Although she’d never gambled, she imagined it was much fun. She wanted to see if she could win enough money for a new gown.
The steep, curved street followed the castle wall. Across the road, townspeople were going about their business, entering and exiting rows of gabled shops with living accommodations above. Women carried baskets over their arms, gathering purchases as children and dogs played tag in the cobbled street.
No dirt road here, in this bustling town where the king kept a household.
“Look,” she said as they reached the bottom of the hill. “A bookshop.”
“John Young, Bookseller,” Mum read off the old, cracked wooden sign.
Rose was always looking for new books to help practice her skills. “I wonder if they might have any books written in foreign languages.”
“They do,” Kit put in. “I found this there.” He raised the book tucked under his arm. “It’s Latin.”
“You read Latin?”
“Hell, no,” he said with a smile, not surprising her
