Rose didn’t want to speak to her parents when she got home. All she wanted to do was go up to her room and hide away from the world. “Where on earth have you been?” her mother asked, coming out of the drawing room and looking in shock at the sight of her wild eyed daughter. “We’ve been worried sick. We’ve had people looking for you for days. Oh, Rose, you might have been killed.”

“I am sorry, Mother,” Rose replied, putting out her arms and bursting into tears. “I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.”

“Who? Jonathan?” Mrs. Winter embraced her daughter, holding her tight against her.

“Mr. Burlingham. He’s a villain.”

“Did he kidnap you? Should I speak to a constable? We could have him arrested.”

“No, nothing like that,” Rose said, unable to continue as a bout of sobbing took over her. Only when it was under control could she speak again. “I am going to bed.”

“Of course, dear. We had your fire lit every day, ready for you. I’m so glad you are safe, Rose.”

“Good night, Mother.”

She ascended the stairs quickly, not wanting her return to become an interrogation. Let them ask questions tomorrow, she wanted nothing to do with them tonight.

In her room, she found the little frocks and nappies piled neatly in a corner. Shrieking with rage, she tossed them out of her window. “I want nothing to do with him,” she screamed into the night air. “It is time to grow up.”

She tired herself out with her tears, they seemed to fall forever. With her stomach cramping, she climbed into bed, pulling the blankets over her head and wishing the whole world would disappear. She thought she would be up all night but she was asleep within minutes, a blissful escape from the pain she felt rocking her entire being.

The next morning, she awoke to the sound of birds singing outside. It took her a moment to work out where she was and then it all came flooding back to her. The fire had gone out and she had left the window open. Looking out of it she saw that the little frocks had gone, as had the nappies. All the evidence they had ever been there was gone. He was gone. It was time to start afresh. That meant one thing.

At breakfast, she sat opposite her parents. “I wish to meet with Jonathan Carlisle,” she said after picking at her porridge with a spoon. Even with two spoonfuls of honey stirred in, it tasted bitter to her. “I want to apologise to him for how I behaved.”

That will show Titus, she thought. Show him how little he matters to me. I will marry Jonathan, that will teach him to cross me. He’ll spend the rest of his life seeing how happy I am, how rich I am, whilst he sinks into penury. Good riddance to him.

The meeting was arranged for a week later. She spent that week steadfastly refusing to think about Titus whilst he remained lurking in the back of her mind, ready to spring out whenever she let her guard down. He’ll soon fade away, she thought, once I am married, I doubt I will ever think about him again.

When Jonathan came to the house, she dressed in her finest coat, her hair immaculate, a bonnet tied in place to counter the autumn wind that was just starting to appear, the first leaves falling from the trees as she strolled out with her new fiancé. They walked together to the park and Rose was just beginning to think that perhaps things were getting back to normal when she saw him.

She screwed up her eyes and scowled. It was him. Titus was there, out walking as well. What was worse was that he was not alone. Who was that with him? “Let’s go this way,” she said, trying to twist Jonathan around.

“Nonsense. I want to show you the rose bushes, they are quite something at this time of year.”

Rose dug her heels in but it was no use. A minute later they reached the rose bushes at the same moment that Titus did. She stopped walking, glaring at him as he looked back at her in surprise. “Miss Winter,” he said after an ice age came and went. “Good afternoon.” He nodded. “Mr. Carlisle.”

“Mr. Burlingham,” Jonathan replied. “Good afternoon.” Ice dripped from his words.

“Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce Margaret Smethwick.”

“How do you do?” Jonathan said, taking Margaret’s offered hand. “This is my fiancée, Rose Winter.”

“Fiancée?” Titus said, his eyebrows rising. “So you are to be married?”

“Indeed we are,” Rose said, speaking for the first time. “We are very much in love.”

“And you have come to the site of your first encounter. How romantic.”

“What?” Jonathan blustered. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you remember?” Titus said. He was clearly going to say something more but Rose could stand it no longer. Her hand whipped through the air, slapping Titus across the face, making Margaret gasp in shock.

“We must be off,” Jonathan said after a long silence, Titus rubbing his face the entire time, looking amused rather than shocked.

Rose spun on her heels, almost dragging Jonathan along behind her. She did not stop until they were in a secluded area of the park. Only then did she pause, turning to Jonathan. “I am sorry you had to see that.”

“You slapped him. Care to explain why?”

“I would rather not. Do you care that I slapped him?”

“It was behaviour I would prefer not to see in such a fine woman.”

“You are cross with me?”

“A little.”

A flicker of a smile crossed Rose’s lips. “Perhaps I should be punished for slapping him.”

“Punished? What on earth do you mean?”

“Well, you could discipline me if you like.”

“What sort of discipline?”

“Spank me maybe?”

“Spank you? Why on earth would I want to spank you?”

“Oh, never mind. Come on, let’s go home.”

Her heart sank as they left the park. She wasn’t even sure why she had asked him to spank her. Was it a test to see how he would react? She wondered if maybe it weren’t the sight of Titus that had made her yearn for her bottom to be reddened by a firm hand. She had come away from her encounter both angry and confused, her body tingling despite her fury. By the time she had reached the secluded spot, she could keep quiet no more. And what had Jonathan done? He had crushed her desires as firmly as if they were a delicate flower that his boot had stamped down upon, destroying forever any hope she had that he might be the right man for her. But he was the man she had chosen. Titus was in the past. The sooner she forgot about him the better.

That night she did her best to fix her mind on Jonathan. That smirk on Titus’s face as he almost mentioned that time so long ago that Jonathan had tried to persuade her to do something she didn’t want to. No, not persuade, force. But was that any different to what Titus had done, spanking her despite her requests that he stop, her battles to free herself from his hand?

It was different, she realised. It was different because she had given Titus her consent. That was the difference. Jonathan had tried to take what she did not want to give. She had given it gladly to Titus. Still, Jonathan would not have to take anymore, she would give herself to him. Titus could go hang as far as she was concerned.

She closed her eyes and did her best to sleep, that smirk on Titus’s face making it impossible for her to settle. How could he act so indifferent towards her? He didn’t seem to show any emotion at all when he saw her. Nothing was on his face but a mild surprise upon looking at the woman he had said he loved, the one he had called his little Rose. Good riddance to him, she thought. I will never think of him again.

She went to sleep with Titus’s face looming before her, his lips moving towards hers, a final kiss that brushed her soul. A kiss she knew would never come.