Chapter Four

Her mother stood there when she entered the house along with her father. Unlike her father however, nothing but pure hatred streamed from her mother. Rosamunde couldn’t help but compare this home to the one she’d just left. Even though they’d not been happy with Keely, there had been nothing but love. Sure, that could have been different the moment she was out of the house, but she hadn’t got that feeling from either parent.

“You are promised to another man, daughter. The last thing this family needs is for you to be out cavorting with Heartstone’s eldest son. At least he was smart enough to have a maid with you.”

“You were out with The Mutt?”

Her mother’s gasp reverberated through the entryway, which now had her siblings in it.

“Don’t call him that,” she snapped back, anger rushing forward. “He’s the son of a marquess, an earl and a human being. He is not a mutt!”

Crack!

She didn’t even see the hit that rocked her head to the side coming. Tears springing into her eyes, she held her burning cheek.

“You will never speak to me in that tone.” Her mother’s face flushed with anger as she stood there, chest heaving. “He’s a half-breed. Not one of us. And no matter the amount of money he may or may not have, that doesn’t change that he’s not pure .”

Her father stepped between them. “This isn’t helping anything. She also can’t be seen with a handprint on her face.” He waved her away. “Go to your room.”

“With pleasure,” she growled and walked off. Her siblings watched her, and not a single one of them had sympathy in their expressions. In fact, the three of them were decidedly entertained.

She continued up the stairs, ignoring the light pitter patter of slippers on the wood behind her. There wasn’t any reason to turn around, she knew exactly who it was. The favored child. Her sister, Henrietta. A perfect replica of her mother where, both women took great pleasure in reminding her, constantly, Rosamunde was not.

Pushing into her room, she didn’t even bother closing the door, knowing it wouldn’t keep Henrietta out. Shivering, she walked to her closet and pulled out another article of clothing to warm her up further.

What I wouldn’t give to have that thick wool coat of Bryn’s around me. Of course, having him near her had been lovely as well.

“You were hanging out with The Mutt?”

Rosamunde shook with fury and rushed her sister, thrusting her against the wall. “You’re not Mama, don’t think I will let you talk about him like that. Show some respect.”

Her sister sneered at her. “You let him rut you? I heard The Mutt will stick his wick in anything, just like a dog. He’d probably take you with a bag over your head. Assuming he could find what he wanted between your fat thighs.” A shrug.

Rosamunde smacked Henrietta across the face. That shocked Henrietta. Like she’d not expected her to actually hit her. Much as Rosamunde had done when she’d been hit by their mother, her sister cupped her cheek.

“You hit me.”

“Don’t talk about him like that. He’s not a mutt. And if you’re so sure about calling him that, go to his mother or father and say that. A marquess and a princess. ”

“Stop acting like you know them and could go there if you wanted.”

“ I just had a meal with them, so I could.” If they would let her in or not she wasn’t sure, but her sister didn’t need to know that.

“You’re still fat and ugly.” Her sister stomped away, slamming the door behind her as she exited.

Dropping the cloak she’d yanked from her closet, Rosamunde made her way to the bed and burrowed beneath all the blankets, succumbing to the tears that had been threatening since she’d been hit with the knowledge that her family truly hated her.

Since this morning.

A disappointment? Sure. But lately their behavior toward her had become such an intense hatred and little regard for her happiness. Today had been too much. Her face ached and the tears didn’t seem to want to stop.

Time didn’t mean anything and when her brother woke her, he watched her with an impassionate gaze.

“You’re late for the evening meal.” No expression change as he gave the edict. “I was ordered to come get you. Mother said she figured you would have been first for the food.” A lazy lift of one shoulder. “Given your size.”

At one time his words had had the power to hurt her. Sometimes even shame her. Now, nothing.

She sat up, pushing him away with one hand. He had about four inches on her, at least, despite being younger than her by two years. Lovell Bradford Fletcher looked so much like their father, only without the paunch or broad shoulders. His body still in the awkward young age.

“I’ll be down shortly.”

His blue gaze, a bit watery, stared at her until without a word he turned and walked away, leaving quietly. Her palm throbbed and she turned her hand over to look at the injury.

What had been nothing more than a splinter this morning now seemed red and puffy. She’d avoided looking at it when she’d removed her gloves at the Heartstone town home, opting to keep her hand curled in her lap. But now, in the fading light of day, she saw that she’d not gotten all the splinter out and now she was dealing with the results.

Splashing water on her face, she took a few moments to get herself under control as she looked at her reflection. There remained a faint mark on her face from her mother’s hit that would get worse before it got better. Something she would need to hide in public.

She cleaned her hand, ensuring this time to get it all out and put a bandage on it before she walked to the door, which flew open without a precursory knock. Startled, she stepped back, heart pounding.

Lovell stood there, his face pinched as if he were going to ask a question.

“Do you think he would teach me to box?”

“You can’t just barge into my room, Lovell. It’s not done. Knock.”

He waved away her reprimand, much like everyone else did in this house. “You were coming down, it is of no consequence. Answer me.”

She pushed by him and slammed the door behind her, nearly catching his hand in the process. He yelped and glared at her but she ignored him and walked to the stairs.

“Rosamunde!”

Pausing on the top step, she glanced over her shoulder at her youngest sibling. “What?”

The sharpness of her tone caused him to narrow his eyes. “Mind your tone with me.”

“You’re not my older brother, Lovell. You’re the youngest. Of all of us.”

“But I’m the only boy, and the most important.”

Rolling her eyes, she headed downstairs. He pounded down behind her.

“Tell me. Will he teach me?”

Once she was on the first floor, safely, she huffed and spun back to face him. “Will who teach you what?”

“The Mu…” She narrowed her eyes at him and he cleared his throat. “Lord Wetherstoft. And boxing of course.”

Golly . “No.”

A single word. Straightforward and decisive. Proud of herself for that, she continued to the dining room, where her family waited on them.

He hollered something else after her but she didn’t slow or acknowledge him.

“I don’t like being ignored,” he called after her.

I don’t either but have been my entire life. Deal with it. And damn if she didn’t feel extremely protective of the man who’d defended her today.

Her family looked at her when she walked in, all eyes zipping directly to the lingering proof of her mother’s hand on her face. However, no one said a word. Neither did she, opting instead to take her usual seat.

The lukewarm fare placed before her did little to rouse her appetite and yet she wasn’t going to refuse. Especially after knowing how lucky she was to simply have food on the table.

“You should help me,” Lovell persisted.

“Help your brother, Rosamunde.” Her mother’s words were sharp and dug into her raw emotions, waking up the anger she’d spent years keeping under wraps.

“No.”

Five sets of eyes landed on her. Probably more if she included the servants’. As if she’d not even spoken, Rosamunde kept her head down and ate.

“What did you say to me?”

“I refused to help your son. Before you ask why, I’ll tell you. You already hit me once today for being around the man, I’m not going to risk that again simply because your one son has decided he wants to make friends with an earl.”

Her father cleared his throat and she lifted her gaze to find his disappointed one on her.

“I am not sure what’s gotten into you, Rosamunde, but I’m not liking this behavior. You will be the best daughter possible until…” He paused.

“Until you are able to finish the transaction of selling me off?”

Not the slightest bit of shame crossed his face. “We are a family, and what you are doing is helping us.”

“No, you’re selling me because you can’t stop gambling and Mother can’t stop her spending habit. Don’t be altruistic and pretend this is for the good of the family. I’m nothing more than a means to an end and I have no doubt that if someone else offered up more money for me you’d make a deal with them, no matter what the French count thinks.”

“He’s Prussian.” Henrietta.

“Italian, you idiot.” Harmony, older than Henrietta by three minutes and thought she knew everything.

Rosamunde didn’t care. She wasn’t marrying him. And she had a plan on how to make that happen. All she had to do was get the assistance of one Bryn St. Martin.

* * * *

Jumping out of the ring, Bryn snatched the towel that Falcon tossed at him from the air. He dragged it over his face, cleansing away the sweat that dripped down. He’d been in the ring for the past hour working off his frustration.

That woman. Rosamunde. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. Was she what their snooty society considered attractive and beautiful? No. Rosamunde Fletcher had too many curves for her short height. Yet all he wanted to do was explore every single one of them.

He’d woken up this morning with his hand around his cock seconds after it had spilled all over his bedding, and her name on his lips. Damn, his dream had been something else. All her smooth skin the hue of a peach blossom, which he imagined would flush so easily in the throes of passion.

His dick stirred and he swore as he raked the towel back over his face then down to his chest. Falcon leaned against the wall, dark chocolate eyes watching him. He knew his friend, more like a brother to him since they’d first met at the side of a lake.

“What?”

Falcon cocked an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

Tossing the towel over his shoulder, Bryn crossed his arms and waited. Falcon was quiet and contained, moving at his own speed. Not one to get upset.

Except when it came to Keely.

“You’re not thinking about the trip to America. You’re focused on your woman.”

He shook his head. “I’m not thinking about her.”

Falcon smirked. “Not denying she’s yours then.” His smirk turned into a laugh at Bryn’s obscene gesture.

Striding to where his shirt hung on a hook, he reached out to tug it over his shoulders, all the while ignoring his friend. Silence met him and after a moment, he turned to find Falcon simply waiting.

“Spit it out already.”

“You missed our meeting this morning.”

He turned to his coat and pulled it on. “It’s tomorrow.” Bryn paused, rolled his lower lip and faced his friend. “Wasn’t it?”

“No. We were supposed to meet at White’s this morning.” Falcon pushed away from the wall only to rock back on his heels. “I can only guess what you were doing. And because of that, I had to come out in the cold to this place and find you.”

Having a dream where he’d had a woman that he couldn’t get out of his mind. However, he wanted to get the smug look off his friend’s face. Which meant he was going to do whatever it took to make that happen.

“I’m sure I was dealing with my sister and her new boyfriend.”

Yeah, he was a dick.

The easygoing and relaxed attitude Falcon typically had had during his training session vanished like a glass of whiskey in front of a drunk.

It took Falcon a few moments before he glanced back to Bryn. “You’re a bastard.”

“Thought my parents took care of that.”

“Perhaps so, but they could be out a son.” A clear warning in that chocolate gaze.

“You could just tell her you’re in love with her and go from there.”

Falcon snorted. “I’m not in love with Keely. I simply know when she’s making a mistake.”

“You don’t love her yet you feel she is making a mistake?” Doubt drenched his question.

“She has shit choices when it comes to men. We both know this, given all the fuckers we’ve run off from her in the past. What makes you think this one will be any different? Who is it?”

“Not sure, some guy from France.”

His best friend and brother from another mother growled low and fierce, enough to make Bryn wonder if there wasn’t a feral dog in the room with him.

“Yeah.” He clapped Falcon on the shoulder. “Not in love with her at all.”

“Fuck you. At least I’m not missing meetings because of her.”

He groaned, completely understanding the focus was back on him. Together they walked to the door, nodding at other patrons they passed.

“Lord Wetherstoft?”

Bryn paused before pivoting to the left, where a young man stood. Tall but thin with youthfulness. He could see a bit of familiarity to his features but from where was simply out of reach.

“My sister said you might be of assistance.”

All Bryn did was stare. He’d learned from both his parents that if you watched someone long enough, they would divulge what they were after. The young man flushed and rolled his shoulders before lifting his chin.

Bryn realized who this was. Rosamunde’s brother. Shit . All he had to do was think of her and his cock stiffened. Sharing a look with Falcon, he finished buttoning up his coat then tugged on his calfskin gloves.

The boy hadn’t spoken again and Bryn lifted an eyebrow before shrugging and walking by. At the door he didn’t even pause before striding out into the wintery morning.

“You know that was your woman’s brother, right?”

Tipping his hat at some passing gentry, Bryn nodded at the driver who held the carriage door for them. The moment he and Falcon got settled they rocked as the ride moved.

“He’s an ass.”

Falcon snorted. “How do you know this?”

“He let his sister go without an escort down to the docks.”

“Like you?”

He nodded, perfunctory. “Exactly. And how many times have you and Keely called me an ass?”

Falcon stretched out his legs. “Point taken.” A moment of quiet. “Are you even intrigued by what he wanted? What was it she said you would help him with?”

“Not really.”

Total lie, but he couldn’t forget what he’d heard as he’d left her house yesterday. He shared that with Falcon.

“What the hell!” Falcon clenched his fists. “I’ll fucking pummel them, no one speaks of Mama like that.”

Bryn patted his friend on the shoulder. “Or me.” His deadpan comment had Falcon huffing. “Or Keely.”

“I’ll kill them.” Falcon leaned against the seat. “But she defended you.”

“She did and it killed me to keep walking but I had to leave or I would be in the headlines for another reason.”

“And you know ignoring the brother will get her back in front of you.”

“Mama said you were more than a pretty face.”

Falcon punched him. “I told you I was but you always wanted me for my body.”

They shared a laugh. Resting his head back, Bryn closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I want her but it doesn’t matter. I’m leaving in a few months. I have to get out of this city and this country. I miss the cabin, the open spaces. I’m tired of being a freak people watch with bated breath to see how I will react.” He sighed. “I need to go home.”