When Rosie began to turn, to object, he halted her with a squeeze and a chuckle.
“Which, in the last decades, has only meant I havetwoloving families, and the rest besides. But my sire never let me forget I wasnae good enough, and I’ve spent a lifetime ensuringIwouldnae leave a child who would have to grow up feeling like that. And now…marriage. Legitimacy for any children. Our children.”
Oh.
He was speaking of his lovers; he had taken care not to leave any of them pregnant. The thought was…a little heartbreaking, honestly. Although she was grateful.
She clutched at his forearms, feeling his heat even through his coat and her gloves. “I—I never considered your history might have affected you in such a way.”
“But now…” She felt him huff a little chuckle. “I find myself focused on the thought of a bairn or three. Withye.”
Rosie settled back against him. “I would like that very much, Bull.”
“Would ye now?” He hummed, then nodded toward the garden. “I’m thinking, since they’ll be raised here, we ought to consider the flower theme. No’ Rose, of course”—his arms tightened—”but we’ll need to plant gardens for eachof them. Violet. Lily. Heather…Daisy?” He paused. “Um. Poppy?”
“Chrysanthemum,” Rosie deadpanned. “Wysteria. Cosmos. Skunk Cabbage?”
Bull was chuckling outright by now. “I’m no’ allowing ye to name my daughter Skunk Cabbage.”
“And why not?” she declared indignantly, struggling to turn in his arms. “I named my brother, you know, and if I just went through the trouble of pushing out the babe, I should get to name it!” Succeeding in settling herself back in his embrace, this time facing him, Rosie mock-glared up at him. “And what about our sons? Should we continue the animal theme so popular in this family? Lyon. Drake. Colt. Badger? Shrew.”
Instead of objecting to her ridiculous names, Bull merely chuckled and dropped a quick kiss to her lips. “Nae sons, Rose. I want only daughters. Wee hellions with yer talents and beauty, and I’ll teach them to take the world by storm…just like their mother.”
Oh my.
That was…Well, that was quite possibly the most romantic thing he could have said. Rosie exhaled, her lips curling softly. “I love you, Bull.”
This time the kiss lasted considerably longer, and Rosie wasn’t cold at all when he pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers, his breathing ragged.
“I…I find myself desperate to start on those daughters, but never fear, I’m no’ going to dishonor?—”
Laughter burst from her lips as she yanked herself out of his embrace. “Oh, turdbiscuits!” Rosie grabbed his hand and marched him toward the house once more. “I am going to dishonor thefookout of you, Bull Lindsay!”
They were both laughing as they spilled into the back corridor, hurrying out of the cold. Rosie was pulling him toward the main staircase when they more or less ran into Jones, the stodgy butler.
Remembering her father’s strict instructions not to be alone with Bull, instructions she had to assume all the Rosewood servants had been given, Rosie found herself pulling up short. “Jones! I—we…”
But the old man merely bowed slightly. “Your mother has arrived, Lady Rose. She and your father are ensconced with my lady in the parlor, listening to her happily reminisce about her childhood with her sister.” Did his lips twitch just slightly? “I have instructed the housekeeper to place your parents in the blue guest room in the east wing. I believe the gold room in the west wing has been supplied with some changes of clothing suitable for the late supper Lady Mistree is planning. Perhaps the two of you would like to consider them now?”
“The west wing…as in the opposite side of the house from the east wing?” barked Bull, a mischievous grin twitching his lips.
The butler inclined his head again, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Indeed, Mister Lindsay.”
“You are an absolute wonder!” Impulsively, Rosie stretched up on her toes to press a kiss to the aging butler’s cheek, and was amused when the old man flushed happily and stepped back, gesturing toward the stairs.
“Turn left, look for the room with the lock on the door. You’ll find the key on the other side.”
Giggling, Rosie pulled Bull up the stairs.
They found the gold room, which did indeed have a convenient lock on the door, already warm from the lit fire. There was a collection of slightly out-of-date clothing waiting for her, including a warm nightrail, and the bed was turned down.
“If ye’re going to change for dinner, ye’re going to need to get out of those clothes.” Bull’s gaze was dark with wicked promises as he stalked toward her. “I’ll help.”
She’d already stripped off her outerwear when he went to work on her buttons. Of course, there was nothing to do but helphimwithhisclothing as well. Rosie always strove to be helpful, after all.
Soon enough, she was standing naked before him…and Bull still wore his trousers. It was a familiar sight, and one she relished. The room should be cold, but the heat from the fire and the heat fromhimensured her skin prickled merely with awareness. And yearning.
“Bull…” Rosie whispered, stepping into the circle of his arms. “I want you. All of you.”
