Free Cherrybrook Rose by Tania Crosse Page B

Charles’s heart was in his mouth as she appeared to be on the very edge of the sheer drop, and abandoning the chestnut mare next to the black gelding, he scrambled up the high outcrop of granite in a frenzy of anxiety. But to his relief, when he reached her, he realized she was in fact well back from the dangerous edge.
    Rose was waiting patiently for him, a rapturous smile firing her face and tendrils of wild, curling hair escaping from the excuse of a hat on her head. He knew then that he loved her with a power beyond his comprehension. He
must
have her. And he was obliged to drag his gaze away from her to the direction to which she was gesticulating with a wide sweep of her arm.
    â€˜There! Have you ever seen a view like that?’ she demanded.
    Charles breathed in deeply, his eyes wide with delight. It was as if the world lay spread out at their feet, a gentler part of the moor with the river valley below them, and far in the distance, a shining tortuous ribbon of water.
    â€˜That’s the River Tamar,’ she told him, the exuberance quavering in her voice. ‘On a clear day like this you can see all the way down to Plymouth, you see? And the sea all the way along!’
    Charles squinted hard, but he knew his vision wasn’t as sharp as it might be. But if Rose fancied she could see that far, it was good enough for him.
    â€˜And look! If you turn around, you can see right over the north of the moor! ’Tis like mountains from here. ’Tis an amazing view in all three hundred and sixty degrees, don’t you agree, Mr Chadwick? In fact, when I’m up here,’ she said solemnly, the sudden reverence in her words taking him by surprise, ‘I feel as if I’m up in heaven. Looking down on the most beautiful landscape God ever invented. I feel so at peace, I’d have no regrets if I dropped dead just now,
here
, at the most wonderful place on earth.’
    â€˜Well, I sincerely hope you don’t,’ Charles murmured, ‘drop dead, I mean, when I’ve only just met you.’
    She blinked at him, her cheeks blushing a deep burgundy as she cleared her throat. ‘This is Sharpitor,’ she snapped hotly. ‘That steep ridge in front of us is Leather Tor. And over there, that’s Peek Hill, but the view’s the same. And ’tis more than two miles to Princetown on the road, so I think as we’d better be heading back. The mare looks tired out.’
    â€˜Not surprising, chasing after you!’
    Rose clamped her jaw, her eyes flashing a midnight blue, and with a disdainful flick of her head she scurried back down over the rocks and, leaping into the saddle, turned Gospel homeward. Charles sighed as he remounted and urged his horse forward. Damn it! It was meant to be a joke, and instead she had taken offence. He could see that if he wanted Rose as his wife, he would have to learn to treat her quick temper with kid gloves . . .
    â€˜Hello, Rose!’
    A huge grin of relief split Rose’s taut face as they trotted back into Princetown. The ride home along the Yelverton road had been tense, Rose being disinclined to respond to what she considered Charles’s idle chatter with anything more than a monosyllabic grunt. He was a stranger, an outsider who had invaded her private world and somehow tricked her into disclosing some of her innermost thoughts. And she would never forgive him!
    â€˜Molly! How are you?’ she responded with a brightness that was meant to slice at Charles Chadwick’s arrogance.
    â€˜Oh, we’m fine!’ Molly, a full shopping basket on her arm, screwed her head to look enquiringly up at Rose’s companion. ‘Been for a ride, have we?’
    â€˜Oh, this is Mr Chadwick,’ Rose replied, flapping a casual hand in his direction. ‘He’s an investor in the powder mills on a short visit, and I were just showing him part of the moor.’ And when Molly continued to gaze at Charles with her