For the Lust of a Rogue: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel

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For the Lust of a Rogue: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 6

by Olivia Bennet


  “You’re sweet, My Lady, but it’s just old age.” Mrs. Wilson rummaged around the kitchen, fetching a small pot and placing it on the stove.

  “This is just like old times.” Caroline was brought back to a very similar memory, except she had been about ten, and had these terrible nightmares every night. Mrs. Wilson would always be ready to sit with her and talk for as long as Caroline needed it.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Mrs. Wilson asked.

  “Not about the dream, no.” Caroline had just had an idea. “Do you know why Emma resigned from her position?”

  “Your previous lady’s maid?” Mrs. Wilson asked. “Why on earth would you be thinking about her now?” She turned away to peer into a cupboard, rummaging inside it. Caroline suspected the housekeeper was deliberately evasive.

  “Mrs. Wilson?”

  “Here you go,” Mrs. Wilson said, handing her a mug of warm milk with honey.

  “Mrs. Wilson?”

  “Oh, all right then.” Mrs. Wilson sighed heavily and sat down. “Please sit, My Lady.” Caroline sat down and took a sip of her drink.

  “I had to let Emma go,” Mrs. Wilson finally said.

  “You let her go?” Caroline was confused. “What do you mean? I thought she had resigned?”

  “We allowed her to resign, rather than being dismissed.” Mrs. Wilson closed her eyes.

  “Why on earth?”

  “Emma got involved where she should not have.” The housekeeper opened her eyes and stared at Caroline mournfully.

  “She had a friend, another maid. Her friend had gone behind her mistress, causing awful shame for the family, and well… You know how Emma was. She would always help a friend, even if it cost her. And, well, in this instance it did. The family was very angry, and they wanted someone to pay. I had no choice,” Mrs. Wilson said with a hollow laugh.

  “She was helping a friend?” Caroline’s mind was racing.

  Could this mean…?

  “Emma understood when I spoke to her, but bless her heart, she asked if we could keep this from you. She was so afraid that you would despise her.” Mrs. Wilson patted Caroline’s hand affectionately.

  “Oh, Emma.” Caroline felt a single tear run down her cheek.

  “We need something stronger than this,” Mrs. Wilson said brusquely. She stood up and rummaged in the cupboard behind her. When she returned to the table, she was holding a large brown bottle.

  “Hah! I knew the cook kept this here.” She opened the bottle and poured a generous swig in their milk.

  “What is it?” Caroline asked.

  “Sherry.” Mrs. Wilson chortled and took a large gulp of her milk. Caroline hesitated before doing the same. At once, the warm sensation of the drink relaxed her, if only just slightly. They sat together in comfortable silence for a while.

  “I must confess, that a certain Mr. Langley looked awfully disappointed when he arrived in this empty house today,” Mrs. Wilson finally said.

  “He did?” Caroline blabbered, before composing herself. “I don’t know what you mean…” But her voice trailed off at the knowing look on Mrs. Wilson’s face.

  “I think he is rather taken with you, My Lady.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Caroline replied, but she couldn’t keep her smile at bay.

  “I will have the cook make something extra delicious for dinner tomorrow,” Mrs. Wilson said and finished her drink.

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Lord Brighney invited the young solicitor to dinner tomorrow.” Mrs. Wilson stood up. “Now, can I bring you something, My Lady?”

  “No, thank you.” Caroline stood up as well. “I’ll head back to bed now.”

  They bade one another goodnight, and Caroline returned to her room.

  Tomorrow…

  She would need to find a way to reach Emma and the other women. But she was also going to see him again. A flutter of butterflies filled her, and she was overcome with nervous excitement.

  We are going to be near each other again!

  Jasper woke early, much earlier than usual. After dressing, and going over his papers and folders for the day, he sat down in the cushioned chair near the window. His mind was all over the place and he knew he needed to focus on his work, but it was impossible. Lady Caroline had penetrated his mind and soul, and he was so utterly enthralled with her, he could not think of anything else.

  Her latest letter had done little to quench his thirst for her. Once he had arrived at Brighney Manor the previous day, he had been crestfallen when he found out that Lady Caroline had left for the day. He had been hoping he might be able to catch a glimpse of her. He would even be happy with the knowledge that she would be in the same building. The idea of her presence was enough to light a flame inside him.

  Therefore, once he arrived at the noticeably much quieter house, he had been disappointed. On his familiar path toward the library, he mentioned to Mrs. Wilson that the house seemed unusually peaceful. He had spoken in a manner that he meant to be casual and conversational, but something about the all-too-knowing look on the housekeeper told him she saw through him at once.

  He had sat at his desk and brought out his notes when he saw it. Hidden between two books, he noticed the familiar paper. There was another letter from her. Jasper held the note and read it again, although he almost knew it by heart now.

  Dearest Mr. Langley.

  Your letter lit a fire inside that frightened me. Your words penetrated my heart, but left me half in agony, half in hope. When I close my eyes, I see only you. I shall be miserable without the hope of seeing you soon. I, too, thank the petty thief that brought us together, for he gave us our one moment, stolen in time. The warmth of your touch marked me. Will Fate allow me to bathe in your touch again? My heart trembles and weeps, at the thought you will be gone—away from me, forevermore.

  Yours, most fervent, most undeviating, C.B.

  Jasper was certain that he would not be able to think about anything else today other than Lady Caroline’s delicate hand moving over this paper, writing these words, for him only. He inhaled her scent from the letter, and his heart tightened in his chest. Lady Caroline’s image haunted his mind, and he was filled with an animalistic desire to be close to her, to touch her.

  How could this lady have ensnared my heart in such a way?

  Jasper had come to realize that there was nothing he would not do for her. He would wade through the ocean or walk through a burning building. All for her.

  Later that morning, Jasper walked the familiar path toward the Featherstone house. It had been too long since he last had breakfast with his sister. He knocked on the front door, and Mr. Bolton, the butler, opened it.

  “Good morning, Mr. Langley,” the butler said politely. “Lady Featherstone will be pleased to see you.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Bolton,” Jasper replied. Just as he had taken off his hat, he saw his sister appearing from the room to the right.

  “Oh, Jasper, it’s so good to see you!” Selina beamed at her brother. “You look tired,” she added with concern.

  “I’m all right.” Jasper knew she wouldn’t believe him.

  “Well, you should at least eat, now come sit down.” Selina walked with him toward the dining room, where Lord Featherstone sat with their two children.

  “The man of the moment,” Lord Featherstone said in his irritatingly pompous voice.

  “Good to see you, Lord Featherstone.” Jasper sat down and was served a cup of coffee at once.

  “You have been doing well in court, I hear,” Lord Featherstone continued, lavishly buttering a piece of toast and adding marmalade.

  “I do try my very best, My Lord.” It was surprising to hear Lord Featherstone speak of court, he usually kept to himself, only talking about hunting, which Jasper had no interest in.

  “The gentlemen at the club have mentioned you recently. I gather you are working for old Lord Brighney.” Lord Featherstone took a massive bite from his toast, spilling ma
rmalade over his front.

  “Lord Brighney offered me work, yes,” Jasper replied.

  “Splendid, old chum, absolutely splendid.” Lord Featherstone snapped his finger at a servant that brought forth his mail.

  Jasper ate breakfast, making sure to have second helpings to conciliate his sister. Once the governess had come to collect the children, and Lord Featherstone informed them he was late to the club, Jasper and Selina walked over to the drawing room.

  “Something has changed since we last saw each other,” Selina said when they were finally alone together.

  “I don’t know what you mean…” Jasper began, but his sister cut him off.

  “Please, Jas. It’s only me.” Selina sat down on the couch, indicating he should sit, too. Jasper sighed and sat down, contemplating what he should tell her.

  “There isn’t much that I can say,” he said. He would not betray Lady Caroline’s trust, not even for his sister. But he did not have to. Selina looked at the entrance to the room before she said quietly. “Does this have anything to do with Lord Brighney’s young daughter?”

  Jasper stared at Selina. “What would make you say that?” His tone was almost rude.

  “You have been behaving this way ever since you received the offer to work for Lord Brighney. It’s no secret around the ton that he has a darling daughter, that has more than her share of admirers.” Selina looked at him with a kind and understanding smile.

  “Lady Caroline,” Jasper whispered, “Her name is Lady Caroline.”

  “That’s a lovely name,” Selina said gently.

  “Nothing will ever happen; nothing ever can happen.” Jasper refused to look at his sister, did not want to see her pity. She was silent for a long while. Finally, she said, “Do not give up hope.” He looked up at once.

  “We never know what the future holds,” she added.

  “Ever the optimist,” Jasper teased.

  “One of us has to be,” she replied.

  He wanted to believe his sister, but cold reality told him there was almost no chance he would ever be able to be with Lady Caroline.

  She is not meant to be with a man like me!

  Chapter 9

  Jasper was fidgeting in his seat. His eyes kept glancing at the old clock in his office. Very soon, the carriage would arrive to take him to Brighney Manor. As he was going there only for dinner, he felt woefully aware of his status and position in life. The Lord Chief Justice had invited him to dinner, but as he had to be at court, he insisted that Jasper come that night. Lord Brighney had said it would be good for them to meet, not only for work.

  Mr. Holmes was busily preparing Jasper’s briefs for court at the next desk in the small office. Jasper felt bad that his distractions and added work at Brighney Manor, had meant increased pressure on his junior assistant. He threw the document he had been trying to read onto the desk and rubbed his eyes wearily.

  “I must get going soon.” He knew the carriage would arrive precisely at five o’clock.

  “Back to meet with the Lord Chief Justice?” Mr. Holmes asked interestedly.

  “Yes, I have been invited to dinner.” Jasper put on his nicer jacket and turned around, looking for his hat.

  “Dinner at Brighney Manor!” Mr. Holmes was wide-eyed. “You are fortunate. It must be overwhelming, though.”

  “It certainly makes you stand with your back straight.” Jasper chortled, bending down, still searching for his hat.

  “Your hat is there,” Mr. Holmes said, pointing to the coatrack, which was located directly in front of Jasper.

  “So it is, how did I miss that?” he shook his head and put on his hat.

  “I reckon I would be agitated if I was going over there.” Mr. Holmes said thoughtfully.

  “Agitated?”

  “Eating with Earls and Duchesses—I wouldn’t know what to say to them, or how to behave…” Mr. Holmes looked positively frightened at the idea.

  “Well, I try not to think about that too much, to be honest,” Jasper admitted.

  “I must go now.” He had noticed that it was five o'clock already. His emotions battled with hope and anxiousness. He longed to be close to Lady Caroline again, but still, he felt this was an unusually cruel way to torment himself—by being near a perfect angel like her, knowing they could never be together.

  Caroline stood in front of her wardrobe and stomped down her foot in frustration. This was most unlike her. She stroked her hand across the fabrics of her many gowns. She had retired to her room to change before dinner. For the whole day, she had been prancing around the house, a complete bundle of nerves.

  All thought of finding out more about Emma and the other former maids had disappeared from her mind. She could only think that she would be spending the evening in Mr. Langley’s presence. The now familiar buzzing feeling deep in her core intensified with every tick of the clock.

  Her gowns all seemed wrong, or perhaps it was just her nerves. Never before had she fretted so much over what to wear. She turned to Madeleine, who had been standing nearby, patiently waiting.

  “Madeleine, I cannot think of what to wear.” Caroline sighed exasperatedly, turning to her lady’s maid. Madeleine walked to the wardrobe and pulled out a gown.

  “How about this one?” Madeleine asked.

  “That old gown?” Caroline observed the gown in front of her. Her aunt would surely have something to say about it, were she to wear it. She had owned this gown for more than a year.

  “What’s so special about this gown?” Caroline asked.

  “It is the gown you wore…” Madeleine seemed uncertain if she dared say more. Finally, she said meaningfully, “On the day we went to the bakery.”

  Of course!

  This was the gown she wore when she first saw Mr. Langley. He had helped her up and held her hand for the very first time, and she had been wearing this one. This was the gown.

  “You’re right,” Caroline said, “I think this gown is most appropriate.” She chose a silver necklace that her father had given her, and Madeleine took extra time in styling her hair. She plaited it first, then pulled it up into an elegant knot, framing her face with loose ringlets.

  “You look lovely, My Lady.” Madeleine took a step backward and gave Caroline room to admire her reflection in the mirror.

  “Thank you, Madeleine.” Caroline stood up and walked toward the window and looked outside for any sign of Mr. Langley’s arrival. Her heart dropped a beat when she noticed the dim outlines of a dark carriage approaching the house.

  He’s coming!

  When Jasper arrived at Brighney Manor, a short carriage ride later, he glanced up at the window he had once seen Lady Caroline. It was empty, but the curtain moved slowly as if someone had just pulled it back. He straightened his hat and followed the footman toward the house. He was led to the drawing room, where Lord Brighney stood by the fire.

  “Ah, welcome, Mr. Langley,” Lord Brighney bellowed at the sight of him.

  “Thank you again for the kind invitation, My Lord.” Jasper bowed deeply.

  “You have been of tremendous help, young man. Come, let me pour you a drink.” Lord Brighney walked toward a table, crowded with various bottles and glasses. He poured the amber liquid in a glass and handed it over to Jasper.

  The door opened, and the butler entered the room.

  “My Lord,” he said in a stiff and grandiose voice. “Her Grace wishes you and Mr. Langley to join her and Lady Caroline, in the dining room.”

  “Right, we will not let the ladies wait for us.” Lord Brighney chuckled and downed the rest of his drink. Jasper, unsure of what to do, decided it best to do the same. He felt the heat from the alcohol travel from his lips, all the way to his stomach.

  They walked over to the dining room, and Jasper almost stumbled when he entered the room. Lady Caroline stood next to the Dowager Duchess, and her beauty stole away his breath. She was looking deep into his eyes, and Jasper felt as if his surroundings had vanished. The voice of the Dowager
Duchess pulled him back from his gaze. “Good evening, Mr. Langley.”

  “Good evening, Your Grace.” Jasper bowed low and spoke in a soft voice, which did not feel like his own.

  “It is good to see you again, Mr. Langley,” Lady Caroline said politely.

  “An honor, My Lady,” Jasper replied. He bowed again, but he stole yet another glance at her. He thought he could see her breath quicken as her bosom moved quickly. He had to fight back the impulse to groan with longing. His fingers longed to stroke against her collarbone, and hold her close to him.

 

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