He tossed her an amused frown even as he began to lead her up the wide wooden staircase. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure it’s quite the thing for you to be showing me to my bedchamber.”
He chuckled. “My dear, I believe the very nature of our relationship is not quite the thing. Walking you to your door is the least of my worries.” Technically, he was right. But when viewed in the light of the truth, their relationship was really quite innocent. Well, as innocent as conning a notorious libertine out of his money could be.
They reached the second floor landing and Carver gestured down the long hallway to the right. The house became more breathtaking by the minute. Large, regal paintings hung in perfectly measured intervals along the walls opposite enormous windows overlooking the vast park grounds of the estate. The walls were all papered in various cool-toned shades with lovely detailed floral patterns. Even the wood trim lining the top and bottom of the walls was ornately carved, demonstrating the care taken with every detail. Rose found herself wishing that she could stay a day or two to explore the beautiful castle and grounds. But that simply couldn’t happen. She would leave as soon as darkness descended.
They continued to walk down the hallway in silence. Even if Carver hadn’t mentioned that there had been painful memories keeping him away from his family home, she could feel it in the tension radiating stronger and stronger from his body with every increasing step. From the corner of her eyes, she could see his jaw flex and the muscle in his arm tighten.
What had happened within these walls to pull such a strong reaction from him? For a moment, Rose forgot that she completely hated the man and everything he stood for. Her feelings felt tender and her instinct told her to comfort him.
She squashed those feelings. Feelings and attachments were not what she needed.
They stopped and Carver gestured with his head to the door in front of them. “Your bedchamber, my dear.”
“Why did you have me placed in the gold room?” It was curious to her that Carver should care about her accommodations. She only hoped it wasn’t for improper reasons, like proximity to his bedchamber.
He smirked with mischief in his eyes. “I hoped you’d ask that.” He stepped a little closer. “I chose this room because the golden paper on the walls will accentuate the golden flecks in your eyes.”
Rose tried to contain it but couldn’t. A laugh sputtered from her mouth. “Heavens!” she said, a chuckle still running through her voice. “Did you choose this room just to be able to use that line?”
He looked down at her, a grin twisting on his face. Again, it felt like a glimpse at the real man behind the rakish mask. “I hoped for it. Did it work in my favor?”
She crinkled her nose. “Not in the least! Besides, my eyes are not golden. They are more like…” she paused to find the right description.
“Like a glass of good brandy.” His tone was no longer fake. Or sultry. It was soft and sincere in a way that told Rose he had already given the idea a good bit of thought.
She studied him for a moment, trying to figure out whether he was being genuine or just flirtatious. When all she found was a look of sincere admiration in his eyes, she blinked and looked away. “I was going to say mud, but your assessment is certainly more poetic.” She forced a chuckle that sounded stupid even to her and then hazarded a glance back up at him.
She shouldn’t have. His eyes caught hers and held them in his gaze. Rose felt her heart quicken from his nearness, much like it had when he had almost kissed her in the carriage. He looked into her eyes for what felt like a ridiculous amount of time—but in reality; it was probably only a few seconds. He didn’t smile. He just looked. What was he looking for when he did that? Rose could have sworn he wanted to say something, but held it back. Was he having second thoughts about the engagement? Was he trying to remember her face? Would he realize that she was not telling the truth?
She willed herself to look at the floor to regain a bit of her composure. She needed to get a better grip on herself. This man was nothing more than a target.
Then his calloused fingers slipped under her chin and tipped it up again. “You should know that your eyes are beautiful and do not share the least resemblance to mud.” Hang the man, he was good. Is this how all rakes made women feel? She began to see how they earned their reputations.
Breathing felt more difficult as her heart threatened to burst from her chest. He looked down at her lips and against her better judgment; she looked at his. He leaned down toward her face and she sucked in a quick breath.
But before his lips had the chance to meet hers, she heard the click of the latch on the door behind her. Her head swung back to see that he had only leaned down to reach the doorknob. He straightened up with an amused smirk on his mouth. “I was just opening the door for you.” Oh, she hated him!
Heat clawed up her neck and face and she took a fumbling step backward into the bedchamber. “Of course…I knew that,” she snapped. But she knew he didn’t believe her.
“Dinner is at seven, my dear. Don’t be late.” He smiled smugly, bowed, and then turned on his heels and started back down the hallway. “I’ll have a maid sent to your room to help you dress,” he called back without turning around then disappeared down another corridor.
Rose slipped into her room, shut the door, leaned against it and slid to the ground. “Rose, you idiot,” she whispered into her hands. “You are not actually marrying him!”
And she didn’t want to, either—despite what her pounding heart was saying. She knew her heart could never be trusted when it came to real life. Emotions and attachment to people only lead to pain, heartbreak, and vulnerability in the end. Those were things Rose never desired to feel again. She preferred to be in control of her life at all times. The only way to truly do that was to remain as unattached to people around her as possible.
She had to leave. As soon as the family retired to bed, she would make for the stables. Carver would undoubtedly be relieved when he realized that she had bolted. A rake could never truly be happy about the idea of settling down. And besides, she didn’t think for one second that he truly wanted to marry her. Most likely, he had just been feeling an odd and fleeting sense of honor and would completely regret the whole thing in the morning. Or even more likely…he would recognize that it was a scam and turn the tables on her.
Either way, I won’t be here to find out.
Rose untied her deuced ugly bonnet and tossed the horrid thing to the floor, glancing around the room for the first time. She stood up and walked over to the lovely four-poster bed. She ran her fingers across the luxurious bed linens as she admired the heavy drapery lining the windows and fresh flowers on the bedside table. It was the dead of winter. How on earth did they manage to have such a lovely spray of flowers?
The walls were not covered in the heavy gold-colored paper she had been imagining. Instead, it was creamy with a metallic gold floral design that wrapped the room like vines. It was light and beautiful. Rose couldn’t imagine a more lovely room.
An involuntary and completely ridiculous smile hovered over her lips as she thought of Carver’s horrid flirt. It was a bad line. But the one that followed…
Well. It had her darting to the looking glass and observ