Pretty Little Rose Read online




  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  EBook Offer

  Pretty Little Rose

  Lucy Wild

  Blushing Books

  Contents

  Pssst… Amazon Customers…. Free Stuff

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  About the Author

  EBook Offer

  Blushing Books Newsletter

  Blushing Books

  ©2017 by Blushing Books® and Lucy Wild

  All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Blushing Books®,

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  Lucy Wild

  Pretty Little Rose

  EBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-150-7

  Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books’ or the author’s advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

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  Chapter 1

  When the stones hit her bedroom window, Rose Winter was in the midst of a very important discussion. Ranged about her were her three best friends, all in fits of giggles. They had spent the evening together hidden away in her room, enjoying the opportunity to be apart from their parents and decide once and for all who was the most eligible bachelor in Yorkshire.

  Geraldine was of the opinion that there could be no finer catch than Thaddeus Burlingham, heir to the enormous estate at Crossways, soon to follow his father into a seat in the House of Lords.

  “Poppycock,” was Amelia’s response. “I could never marry him. He’d have his idiot brother hanging around the house and we’d get no peace at all. If you ask me, far better to go for Richard.”

  “Richard Mayhew?” Enid replied. “But his estate is less than half the size of Thaddeus’s.”

  “Size isn’t everything, Enid, my dear.”

  They were still giggling when the window rattled behind them a moment later. Rose leapt to her feet. “He’s here! How do I look?”

  She ran her fingers through her hair before pinching her cheeks to draw the colour out whilst her friends breathlessly nodded their approval. “Wish me luck,” she squeaked, running over to the window. She stopped with her fingertips on the handle, taking a deep breath and forcing the smile from her face. It was replaced by a look of cool nonchalance by the time she pushed open the window and leaned out.

  The night was chilly. The heat of the summer had begun to fade just a few days before and Rose shivered as a zephyr brushed past. “Yes?” she asked, looking down imperiously on the form of a tall man in a riding suit, his hat tipped off his head in readiness for her appearance.

  The man bowed deeply as she stifled a giggle, Amelia whispering behind h
er, “Ask him if he thinks size is everything.”

  “Good evening, Lady Winter,” he called up to her.

  “Shush!” she snapped back, pressing a finger to her lips. “You will wake my parents. What do you want, Jonathan?”

  “To see you, of course,” he replied, his voice lower than before. “You told me to come at this time, remember?”

  “I will be down in a minute. Don’t go anywhere.”

  She blew him a kiss before pulling the window closed and turning back to her friends. “This is it,” she said, doing her best to contain her excitement. “I will be a woman when I return.”

  “A first kiss,” Geraldine sighed, picking up the nearest cushion and hugging it to her chest. “How exciting.”

  “Promise us one thing,” Amelia said as Rose picked up her cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders.

  “What’s that?”

  “That you give us every tiny miniscule little detail of that kiss.”

  Rose nodded. “If I come back, of course, he might just sweep me off my feet and elope with me somewhere.”

  She left the room on a wave of their giggles, the sound of their excited voices gradually fading away as she tiptoed downstairs. The gaslight in the study lit the hallway. That was a bad sign. It suggested her father was still working.

  She paused by the edge of the study door, listening hard. No sound. With her breath held, she darted across to the other side, only exhaling when she leaned against the far wall. She was safe. He must have left the light on before retiring.

  “Rose Winter,” his voice called out from the study. “Come in here this instant.”

  She froze, her heart sinking. He had seen her then. “Yes, Father,” she said, walking into his study with her shoulders slumped, her face downcast. She glanced up in time to find him setting down his pen ready for her. “Anything amiss, Father?”

  “You were sneaking out again, weren’t you?”

  “No, Father, I promise. I was just going to get some fresh air.”

  “What’s this, behind me?”

  “A curtain, Father.”

  Lord Winter frowned, folding his arms as he did so. “I do not find that amusing. That is a window, as you well know. They are the most delightful of inventions. Keep curtain makers in business for one thing. For another, they let in all the fresh air any noble lady could ever want in her lungs.”

  “Yes, Father. I am aware of the purpose of a window.”

  “Oh you are? Only, perhaps you might then explain why you need to go gallivanting outside when it is gone ten and all respectable people are indoors and settling down for the night?”

  She looked at him closely. Did he know about Jonathan? He couldn’t, could he? “I was only going to take the air for a brief spell, Father. Surely, you do not judge me for that.”

  “I don’t mind taking the air at all. But if that were the case, why did you feel the need to sneak past my study like a housebreaker in training?”

  “For fun.”

  “That is not amusing. Off to bed.”

  “But, Father, please listen to me.”

  “No buts. I know exactly why you went out at this time last week and the week before and I kept silent, hoping it was only a childish fancy that would pass. But three times with one man without a chaperone is not acceptable. For heaven’s sake, my girl, one time is unacceptable but three! I will not have you out again this night nor any other night. Bed is the place for unmarried girls when night comes and bed is where you’re going this instant. Is that clear?”

  Rose opened her mouth to protest but closed it again as he leaned forwards, eyebrows raised, waiting for her counter argument. “Once you are married,” he continued, “you can gallivant all you wish for you will be my problem no longer. Until that day, you do as I say. Now off to bed.”

  “Yes, Father,” she replied, walking round the desk to kiss his cheek. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, Rose,” he replied, stroking her arm as she turned away. “Sleep well.”

  She walked out of the study without looking back, heading upstairs and then into her bedroom, finding her friends in close conference around a contraband sweet loaf purloined from the kitchen just that afternoon.

  “That was quick,” Geraldine said as Rose headed straight past her.

  “I’m not done yet,” Rose replied, pushing open the window and swinging her leg over the sill. “If Father comes up, tell him I am fast asleep.”

  She grabbed hold of the drainpipe, monkeying her way down it whilst her friends peered at her from above.

  “She’ll be killed,” Geraldine said.

  “I can’t look,” Amelia added, staring all the more closely at her descent.

  “You look most undignified,” Enid called after her.

  “Shush!” Rose hissed back up at them, almost losing her grip, her foot slipping from the brick as she descended the last few feet to the ground. She regained her grip and continued down, finally dropping with a bend of her knees, standing up to take a curtsey as a cheer went up from her bedroom.

  Spinning on her heels she faced Jonathan who was smiling admiringly back at her. “Not a fan of doors?”

  “I like to make a memorable entrance,” she replied.

  “That was more of a memorable exit but let’s not quibble. Shall we?”

  Chapter 2

  Rose felt as if she were floating rather than walking. To be by the side of such an eligible bachelor was a sheer delight. To be alone together for the third time without a chaperone was even more exciting. Best of all, though, was the knowledge that she was about to be kissed by a man for the first time in her life.

  When he had thrown stones up at her window a month earlier, she had sent him away with his tail between his legs. Though her heart yearned for the kiss of any man, she knew better than to accept any proposal on the first instance even from someone as eligible as Jonathan Carlisle. But he came back once a week for a month until his persistence paid off and she finally agreed to walk out with him.

  On that first evening, he had been the perfect gentleman, not once did he touch her, not even to kiss the back of her hand. Instead they had walked out for an hour, enjoying the heat of the summer that seemed not to fade with the sun but remain in the air long into the night. She recalled that first walk well afterwards and had little doubt it would always remain with her, even once they were wed. Oh, to be wed. It was delightful to dream of it and she dreamt of it often.

  The second time together, they had linked arms ten minutes in. She had tiptoed out of the house, knowing her parents would never permit such a scandalous breach of decorum as to let her walk out with an unmarried man twice in as many weeks.

  They had talked and talked and talked and she had gone to sleep that night hovering six inches above the bed, floating on her own happiness, knowing that on their next meeting, he intended to kiss her. He had told her as much when they finally parted and she headed back inside.

  That had been a week ago and each day had taken an absolute age to pass. She had invited her friends to be there on the night it was to happen, ready to boast of her experiences upon her return. She would be a woman. The first in her peer group. Certainly, Geraldine had claimed she been kissed six months before but by someone none of them knew which was very convenient and almost certainly untrue.

  Rose would be the first in her circle to become a woman, to know the touch of a man’s lips on her own, the one thing they all wanted more than anything else, the first step towards marriage.

  “Are you all right?” Jonathan asked when Rose suddenly stopped by the entrance to the Royal Park. The gates were open.

  “I could not be happier,” she replied. “Do you think the keeper forgot to lock them?”

  “Or perhaps someone paid him a sum to keep them open that we might take a stroll inside.”

  “Jonathan! You didn’t, did you?”

  “I’m not saying I did anything. I’m just grateful for the chance of walking in a beautiful park w
ithout the risk of being disturbed by the hoi polloi.”

  “And why wouldn’t we want to be disturbed?”

  “Well, that would be telling, wouldn’t it?”

  He slipped his arm around hers and together they passed through the gates and into the darkness of the park, far beyond the glow of the gaslights on the street behind them.

  “I have something I have been meaning to say to you,” Jonathan said after a few minutes of silence.

  “Oh, yes?”

  “Yes, I am not quite sure how to word it though.”

  “What is it?” Rose asked, stopping and turning to face him, only his silhouette visible in the darkness.

  “You are a beautiful woman,” he said, his hand moving to her side. “A very beautiful woman.”

  Then why do I feel like a child? Rose thought, her heart pounding so hard, she thought it might burst. His hand was on her side. His hand was touching her. Her legs felt weak at the prospect of him kissing her. Was this it? Was he about to do it? “Thank you,” she said, angry with herself for the noticeable tremor in her voice.