Chapter 19

Nineteen

Rose

"Good morning, darling."

The fog of sleep evaporated slowly as I came awake. I blinked, my eyes filling with the dull gray light clinging to the windows. Raindrops pinged quietly against the glass. I was surprised to find Moore already dressed and perched on the edge of my bed. Normally, he departed for work and didn't wake me.

I licked my lips to moisten them. "What time is it?"

"A little after eight. I had them bring up breakfast for us." Rising, he placed a tray on the bed next to me, then sat again. "I have news."

Sakes alive, this man. He'd arrived in the middle of the night in an energetic state, almost manic. After rousing me from sleep, he'd taken me fast and hard, wringing orgasms from my body as if someone were keeping score. Subsequently, every part of me was sore today.

But worse than my aching body was my aching heart. I couldn't handle any additional revelations. The engagement news had nearly broken me.

"I need coffee first." I pushed up to a sitting position. While I was settling on my pillows, he poured a cup of coffee and dropped a lump of sugar in it as I preferred. "Thank you," I said as he handed the cup and saucer to me.

I took a grateful sip and ignored the expectant, eager look on Moore's face. There hadn't been time in the middle of the night to talk. Instead, I'd been demanding of his body, shameless and insatiable. Almost as if I were saying goodbye.

You will be soon.

I shook off my melancholy. This was the cold light of day and the truth couldn't hide. "What is it?"

"It's about my betrothal party."

My stomach clenched so violently that I wondered if I might throw up. Did he think I was interested in the ice sculptures and party favors? I set my cup and saucer down on the nightstand. "Moore?—"

"I know it's not your favorite topic, but I swear you'll want to hear this."

"Fine." I clasped my fingers together and wiped the emotion from my face. "And how was the party? Well attended, I hope."

"Don't do that. Not with me." He put his hand on my thigh, squeezing.

"I haven't a clue as to what you mean."

"Yes, you do." Bending over the tray, he kissed me briefly on the mouth. "You show me a glimpse of your real feelings, but they quickly disappear behind a mask of indifference. I don't want the actress. I want you , Rose."

No, he didn't. He wanted the perfect mistress who provided him the perfect respite. Someone who wouldn't complain about his infidelity and distract him from the tedium in his life. I wasn't allowed to have thoughts and feelings and opinions. Why would I, when all he wanted was my body? Some other woman would get his name, his home. His children and his future.

I rubbed my forehead and tried to focus. It was far too early in the day for such sad reflections. "Moore, perhaps I should get dressed for this conversation. I'm not feeling myself."

"Another moment, please. Hear me out."

"As long as it's quick."

"It is. So I was drinking bourbon and working?—"

" During your engagement party?"

His eyebrows dipped low, annoyed at my interruption. "I thought we covered that bit already."

What was this, a Feydeau farce play? "I'm surprised you weren't with your fiancée."

"You'll understand in a moment, I promise. So here I am, working and drinking and missing you. I decided to send you a note to let you know that I'd be paying a visit after the party."

I hadn't received any message. Still, I waved my hand for him to continue.

"Because I'm hiding from the guests," he said, "I must travel through the interior rooms rather than the corridor. I'm creeping through my own home like a damn thief when I come across a couple embracing in the library." He paused. "It was Gladys and another man."

I sucked air into my lungs. " What ?" How could she possibly be so stupid? This woman had Moore and she was with another man. Was she cracked?

"Settle down." He patted my leg. "This gets better. Turns out she and this other man are in love."

"She tells you this at your engagement party? And people think I have a flair for the dramatic? Good lord."

"I didn't mind. Better to learn it now than after our wedding."

"You weren't mad that she was with another man?"

"Absolutely not. As I told you more than once, there are no feelings between us. In fact, I was glad. I thought it might help illustrate that you needn't worry about infidelity."

My hands curled into fists. Unbelievable, this man. "Moore, this doesn't change anyth?—"

He tossed a newspaper on my lap. "Read it."

I tore my angry gaze off his face to see the black and white print. The headline couldn't be missed.

WHITNEY-DUNN HEIRESS THROWS OVER EMERSON, WEDS HYDE

"Throws over?"

He reached for a piece of toast and took a large bite. "Keep reading, darling."

As I read, my eyes grew wider and wider. It turned out that Gladys and a Mr. Charles Hyde had disappeared from the betrothal ball sometime around eleven o'clock, traveling to New Jersey to elope. "This is unbelievable."

"Incidentally, I'm buying them a boat as a wedding present."

"You're happy about this? Won't the gossips attack your family?"

"Perhaps, but I no longer care. Whitney-Dunn lied to me, said my mother had a heart condition to force me into the marriage with his daughter. He wanted to get a foothold into my company and knew marriage was the best way to do it. But when my mother learned of what he'd done, she demanded to call off the betrothal, even with all those guests there." The edge of his mouth kicked up. "She put Whitney-Dunn in his place. Then I kicked him off the Emerson Board. It was utterly glorious."

Ah, so these had been the circumstances he spoke of, the ones he hadn't wished to share with me. "Congratulations," I told him. "I'm happy for you."

He put down his half-eaten toast and dusted off his hands. "Darling, I'm happy for us . Can you not see what this means for our future together? I can give you everything you've ever wanted."

Our future together.

Everything you've ever wanted.

Hope took flight in my chest like a thousand butterflies. Goodness. Was he saying that we would . . . ? Were my feelings for him returned? I swallowed. Moore loved me. He wanted marriage and a home. Perhaps children one day.

I am besotted. And I don't wish to lose you.

He truly meant it.

I grabbed his arm, needing to touch him. "Oh, Moore."

He nodded encouragingly. "Exactly. It means nothing changes." Leaning over on an elbow, he worked his free hand under the bedclothes. Clever fingers crept along my bare thigh. "We continue just as if this wedding business never happened."

Oh . Oh.

My heart shriveled in my chest.

I was so stupid. He didn't want me for a wife . He wanted to keep me in this town house, ready and available for whenever he wished. A paid companion to fuck him until the day he tired of me.

Stupid, stupid Rose.

How dare I dream of a position to which I had no right, a life that would never be mine? I knew better. I would never be acceptable in this man's eyes. For a bed partner, yes—but never for a wife. Exactly like Tommy.

Tears stung the back of my eyelids. Why was I never good enough? No, I hadn't been born of Dutch descent or to a wealthy family. But I was a good, caring person with decent morals and intelligence. So when would these selfish men stop breaking my heart?

I couldn't do this any longer. I'd planned to leave the country in September, but I needed to go now. I needed to get far away from this man.

Suddenly, Moore filled my vision, his large hands gripping my face. "What's wrong? Christ, Rose. I thought you would be thrilled about this. Please, tell me what I've said."

My cheeks were wet. I hadn't realized I was crying. "You should go."

"No, sweetheart." He pressed his lips to my forehead. "Tell me what has upset you. Please."

For some reason, that made me cry harder. I hated him at that moment. Every poem and play and story had lied to me about love. Being in love was awful and terrible, a wretched state of existence. It clawed away your insides, taking and taking, until you had nothing left to give. It left you a hollow shell of a person.

Moore pulled me into his chest. "Oh, my gorgeous girl. Let me help. Let me make it better."

All I could think was, Love me. Keep me. Don't ever let me go.

But he couldn't promise those things. No man from his world could, not to a woman like me.

And maybe it was time for the truth. I was tired of hiding my feelings from him. If he knew, then he would let me go.

I eased back so he could see the destruction on my face. "I'm crying because for a brief second I thought you were about to propose to me."

His face slackened in absolute shock and horror. I would've laughed under any other circumstance. But the fact that it hadn't even occurred to him was why this would never work. His eyebrows lowered as he frowned. "Rose?—"

"Please, don't." I didn't want to hear his explanation. "I know better, I promise. But I've fallen in love with you and for a split second, I forgot."

He blinked slowly, his brow wrinkling in confusion. "Forgot?"

"I forgot that you're you and I'm me. That our worlds couldn't be further apart." I eased out of the bed, desperate to put space between us. "I think you should go."

"Wait, please. I need a moment to catch up, Rose."

"There's nothing to discuss. And I cannot keep doing this with you."

"What does that mean?"

I clasped my arms around my middle and struggled to remain calm. "Did you not hear me? I've fallen in love with you. I've been a wreck because you were marrying someone else!"

"But I'm not marrying her anymore."

"There will be another Gladys. If not tomorrow, then next month or next year. You aren't mine to keep. You'll marry some other woman and my heart will break all over again. I can't go through it. It's too painful."

He dragged a hand down his face. "I'm not going to remarry. I promise."

"I don't believe you, especially when you've already broken your word to me. And it doesn't even matter! I deserve to be enough for someone. I deserve to be a wife, to be walked down an aisle and have vows spoken before God. I will always want more than you are willing to give—and it will slowly destroy me over time to have it withheld."

"Please. Let's give it time."

"I cannot. I cannot keep hiding my true feelings for you, burying them because I don't wish to upset you. I'm tired of playing the part of your mistress and acting like I don't want all of you. Because I do and it's killing me inside."

His jaw went as stiff as granite. "I don't want you playing a part with me. I want you, Rose, plain and simple."

"No, you want a fun and easy lover, undemanding of your time or affection. She gives everything and asks for nothing in return."

"That's unfair. You haven't asked for anything before now. This is the first I'm hearing of marriage. You've surprised me, is all."

Surprised him, because the possibility never occurred to him. God, I was pathetic. Trying to appear casual, I waved my hand. "It doesn't matter. I'd planned to leave New York after you married. I'll move up my plans and depart immediately."

He slapped a hand on the mattress. "Damn it, Rose. You cannot leave New York. I won't allow it!"

"You'll not allow it?" I gaped at him, then let out a joyless laugh. "You have no authority over my life, Moore. None whatsoever. Our arrangement is over."

"Don't say that. We aren't finished."

I was too furious and hurt to look at him. I stared at the wall, wishing I'd never snuck into his carriage all those months ago. I wish I'd never met Alfred Moore Emerson III. "Please, go."

"I can't believe you're throwing away what we have. I think I love you."

"You think ?" My voice rose comically. Convenient he was telling me now, when I was ready to walk out of his life. My god, this man's selfishness knew no bounds. I pointed to the door. "Get out."

He dragged both of his hands through his hair. "Rose, for fuck's sake. Give me a second to think. All of this has thrown me sideways."

"That isn't my concern. Go and think somewhere else. I need to be away from you."

"As long as you promise you won't leave New York. Promise me you'll stay and we can try to work this out."

He wasn't listening to me. He was still trying to bend me to his will, to get what he wanted. My wishes and desires, other than what happened in bed, mattered little to him. My heart ached at the idea of losing him, of never seeing him again, but my head had decided this was over.

I stared at Moore for the last time, my handsome uptown prince. Maybe in another life this third act wouldn't end so tragically. We could've married and lived happily ever after.

But this was reality, not a Broadway play.

Actresses didn't mix with the Knickerbocker elites unless they were being paid for the privilege, and the gilded compensation wasn't worth the heartache. I was worth more. And I was done letting a man have control over me and my future. It was time to stand on my own once again.

However, I knew him. He would try to find me and his money meant he had resources to spare. So I had to do this carefully. I needed to leave quickly and never look back, begin a life someplace without Astors and Vanderbilts and Emersons.

But I would survive. It was what women like me did.

I gave him a bland look. "I won't leave yet. We may discuss this tomorrow. For now, please give me space."

He didn't move for a long moment. Then he snagged his coat off the chair back, shrugged it on, and came toward me. "Good. This isn't finished, Rose. We'll talk later." He kissed my forehead, then strode into the hall.

I listened to his footsteps recede, then I heard the front door close with a snap. I bit my lip, trying to stem the tears as best I could, the pain worse than I could've imagined.

But I would hold firm. He and I were most definitely finished.