DELIVERED

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Lord Thorn was exceedingly curious about Rose. He wanted to be present when Crowder's man delivered the flowers. Christopher retrieved his field glasses from the cabinet and waited for Jackson to return. They could ride out through the forest next to Dragonwood, survey the area, and observe what happened when Rose received the flowers.

Jackson arrived a short while later, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "When I asked Mr. Crowder to make the nosegay, he got agitated. I'm surprised the old man didn't hit me with his cane, but he calmed down when I gave him a chance to name his price. Mr. Crowder said the flowers would be there within the next hour." Jackson explained to The Lord.

"Excellent. Why don't we venture over to Dragonwood this morning?" Christopher smirked at Jackson with raised eyebrows. He wanted to see the flowers handed over and try to get a look at Rose. "Get another stallion saddled."

"Do you think that's a good idea with the condition of your leg?"

"Don't worry, my leg will be fine. This might give me a chance to tease Lucy again if something happens." Christopher laughed at the thought of the blushing maid from last night.

Jackson snickered and shook his head at The Lord. "You're incorrigible, you realize that, don't you?" He left the study to go ready another horse for the outing.

Christopher wondered what Rose looked like when she cleaned up and dressed appropriately. He imagined she was a real beauty. Christopher shook his head to get her off his mind. "What is wrong with me? She tried to kill me, and I'm acting like a love-sick fool." He muttered to himself in frustration.

***

The torrential rains had ceased, and the sun peeked in and out of the passing clouds. Shades of pink and blue filled the dawn sky. Dante was busy persuading Oscar out of the greenhouse with the can of sardines he had brought from the Mansion. The Count picked up the young cat and stroked the soft tabby fur. "Good Kitty, I know someone who wants to see you." Dante walked back to the coach, where Giselle was waiting.

"Filthy flea-ridden beasts. Keep that cat away from me. I don't want fur all over my dress." Giselle scowled at the kitten. Oscar turned and hissed at her. The cat could sense that Giselle detested animals. She thought they were all foul and had no time for them. "I can't even believe you are allowing this?" She looked on as Dante smirked in delight at her disapproval.

He loved it when she was uncomfortable. It was his life's mission to bring her misery. Dante wanted Giselle to know every minute of every hour that he was in complete control of her and everything thing in her life. He felt Giselle deserved all of what he had to dish out.

"I'm assigning you to care for Rose. You will be available to her day and night. Also, you are to begin her etiquette and protocol training just as soon as she has recovered. She will need to be ready in the next few weeks."

"I have Carrick preparing a winter ball at the estate. All of London's upper echelon and aristocracy will be in attendance. Including several Dukes, Lords, and Earls here in London."

Dante sat across from Giselle and gauged her anger as he spoke. Her face stayed inscrutable, but he could see her body language, and she was burning inside. "I intend for this to be Rose's debut." The Count knew this was crawling under Giselle's skin, and he enjoyed every second.

"You have stripped me of my room and given it away, made me nothing better than a servant to a stranger you call your daughter. Then expect me to work miracles by turning her from a sow's ear into a silk purse. Master, why are you torturing me like this? What have I done? You are asking the impossible of me." Giselle's lips set in a tight, thin line, holding back her fury.

He 'tsked' at her. "Giselle, you know well what you have done to deserve this. But I have every faith in your ability to have Rose prepared for the ball. You know the consequences of failing me, right?" Dante took great pleasure in rubbing salt into old wounds.

"Why not have Carrick do this, and I will plan the ball?" lamented Giselle. She would do anything to get out of her current assignment.

Oh, not to worry. I didn't leave you out of the planning. Carrick has many things he will need your aid with for the ball. The Count chuckled at Giselle as he could see her internally fighting to keep her tongue under control.

"I can not do this!" she grumbled at Dante through clenched teeth.

The Count leaned across the carriage, caught Giselle by her chin, and pulled her face close to his. His jaw ticked, and his amber-red eyes traveled over hers. "You can and will do whatever I tell you, treacherous wench. Remember, there is no rest for the wicked." Dante let go of her face, pushed her away, and resumed petting the cat.

The rest of the carriage ride was silent. Dante was glad Giselle had shut up. She sat silent, pouting like a small child. He watched her looking out the carriage window and imagined she was trying to conceive of a way to run back to the Chateau.

The Count was ready to be back at the Mansion. He couldn't wait to see the look on Rose's face when she woke up to Oscar.

Giselle and the Count arrived just in time to see Mr. Crowder's floral shop dropping off a delivery of flowers. Dante thought how peculiar it was for dispatch to happen on New Year's Eve.

"Young man, I think you are at the wrong estate. We have not ordered floral stems." Dante admonished the young man.

"Is this the residence of Scarlette Rose?" questioned the delivery boy.

"Yes, she resides here. I will take those." He grabbed the flowers from the boy's hands. "Who sent them?" The Count interrogated the man.

"There was no card attached, sir." Dante was a foreboding figure, and the delivery boy was visibly nervous.

"Very well, that is all. You may leave now." Dante dismissed the young man and walked into the Mansion with the cat and flowers for his darling Rose.

Giselle saw the delivery boy's smile drop at Dante's ungracious manner and no offer of gratuity. She glanced at the young man and told him, "Don't take it personally. He's like that with everyone." She strode past him quickly to follow Dante into the Mansion.

Carrick met the Count and Giselle at the door and took their cloaks. Dante could smell salt and iron faintly in the air.

"Your Grace, I -I-uh…," Carrick stammered.

"What is it now, Carrick?" Dante turned and grabbed the butler by his coat, pulling him closer to his face. They were almost nose to nose. He was losing his patience with the man's inability to speak without stuttering.

"The Contessa Rose is very ill. Her fever has worsened, and she's been screaming while you were out. I have Dahlia sitting with her, washing her down with cool clothes. Should we call for the doctor?" fretted the servant.

Hearing Carrick's report on Rose's worsening condition, he turned to Giselle. Dante dumped the cat and flowers into her arms. She stood there with a look of revulsion and shock before passing Oscar and the nosegay to the butler. Giselle stomped off to the parlor. She needed a break from Dante's insanity. This was no way to start a New Year.

The Count heard a deafening shriek resounding from the second floor. He had to get to his daughter. "Why can't I get a feel for her emotions? He mumbled, rubbing his chin in thought. They have been so strong for days." He hastily strode up the stairs, taking two steps at a time with his immense stride.

Another piercing scream erupted from the bed-chamber as The Count approached the door and kicked it open. Dahlia jumped at the sudden banging noise and the appearance of Dante's intimidating figure at the entry.

"Move away! I will take care of her from here." Dahlia backed up from the bed to make space for the Count to attend to his daughter. He looked at Rose; heavy sweat drenched her hair and the top of her gown. She was pale and curled in a ball. The smell of her blood filled the room.

"Dahlia? Where is she bleeding from?"

"Bleeding?" The maid raised her brows; his question baffled her. "I did not see any blood, Your Grace."

Rose's body convulsed, and she groaned in pain. She took a deep breath, gritted her teeth, and howled in pain. Dante pulled the covers from her body and rolled her over. What he saw disturbed him. The bed underneath Rose was soaked in her blood, and the left side of her gown was saturated.

Dante's brows furrowed. "Where are you bleeding from?" He quietly questioned and then tore her gown open down the left side. It was her abdomen. The place where Christopher had pierced her with the Claymore; was open, and blood streamed from the wound.