Mrs Baker might have been presumptuous but she had probably been correct. It might have been better for her not to have gone down and spoken to him herself. Mary should be back with fresh clothes and the necessities for her enforced stay by ten o’clock. She prayed there would be good news returning with the carriage.
‘Beth, would you like some bread-and-butter?’
Her sister shook her head. ‘No, I’m not hungry, Lottie. I think I’ll sleep again.’
Charlotte smoothed the coverlet and drew the bed hangings, shutting out the morning sun. She wandered over to the window to stare out on the empty drive. She had eaten nothing at breakfast; she had tried but had found it impossible to swallow.
‘Rose, it’s Lord Thurston. He is coming down the drive with Jethro and two grooms. Thank God! Thank God! I have been so worried about him.’
‘You go down, Miss Carstairs. Miss Beth’s resting and I can attend her should she need anything in your absence.’
She didn’t pause to check her appearance; she was desperate to discover what awful circumstances had kept him from her side for so long. Renshaw was in the hall when she descended.
‘Lord Thurston is on his way, Renshaw. Please inform him I am waiting in the…?’
‘Yes, Miss Carstairs. Shall I conduct you to the drawing-room?’
‘Thank you. I am making very free with Dr Andrews’s home, am I not? But he is a kind gentleman and I’m sure he will not object.’
The butler bowed. ‘The room is this way, Miss Carstairs.’ He led her to the double doors on the far right to the hall. ‘Shall I have refreshments sent in when Lord Thurston arrives?’
‘Yes, I expect he will be hungry and thirsty after being out of all night. I shall leave it up to you to decide what would be best.’
A further ten minutes elapsed before the front door opened and the sound of Jack’s footsteps approached. Renshaw opened the door and announced him grandly.
‘His grace, the Duke of Lenster, to see you, Miss Carstairs.’ Then he tactfully retired, closing the door firmly behind him.
She stared open-mouthed at her beloved. She had been the expecting a heroic but bedraggled figure in mud stained breeches and dirty boots, his face grey with fatigue. He was none of those things. He was cleanly dressed and clearly well rested. ‘You have changed your clothes,’ she said when she eventually found her voice.
He smiled. ‘Of course I have, sweetheart. I would hardly sleep in my filth. I have a man to take care of me now, remember.’
‘You’ve spent the night in the safety of your own bed?’ She was barely able to contain her fury.
Puzzled by the frosty tone he shook his head and began to walk towards her. Instantly she stepped back. ‘Where else did you expect me to spend it, my love?’
Her anger erupted at his insensitivity, his callous disregard for her feelings. ‘I expected you to have spent it outside, or under a hedge, or perhaps lying injured in a ditch. I have been beside myself with worry, whilst you, my lord, have spent a comfortable, untroubled night in your own bed, thinking of no one’s comfort but your own.’
He understood. But he underestimated her anger and laughed. ‘You should know me better than that, sweetheart, it takes more than a couple of murdering bas……, murdering villains to stop me.’
‘I am delighted to hear it, my lord. It might also amuse you to know that I spent the entire night nursing Beth, who is very poorly still. No, do not approach me.’ She held out her hand haughtily. ‘I am disgusted by your behaviour. You sent no message to tell me you were well or ask how we did. Is this how it’s going to be, my lord? I am to stay at home worrying, whilst you gallivant around the countryside killing people?’
This was a silly thing to say but she was so angry she didn’t care. She was overreacting now the man she loved was safe.
He was no longer amused. He raked her from head to toe, his expression murderous. ‘I shall tell you how it is going to be, Miss Carstairs. You are going to speak to me in future with respect or I am going to be forced to teach you how to do so. Have I made myself quite clear on this point?’
She wilted. This was a man it would be foolhardy to disobey. She had let her tongue run away with her once more and must now endure the consequences. She dropped her eyes.
‘I apologize for speaking so intemperately, my lord. Pray excuse me; I must go upstairs to attend to Beth.’ She didn’t wait for his permission but picked up her skirts and fled past him only to be stopped by the doors so thoughtfully closed by the butler. She flinched as a long arm reached past her.
‘Allow me, Miss Carstairs.’ He opened the doors and stepped aside, making no move to prevent her ignominious retreat.
Charlotte didn’t go to Beth’s room but back into the room recently vacated by
Harry. She closed the door and leant, trembling, against it. She didn’t know whether to cry, or scream with vexation. She had offended him by her childish outburst and still didn’t know what had happened. Had he managed to capture the two men who had escaped yesterday or were they out there waiting to renew their attacks?
She splashed her face with the cold water she found left in a jug in the dressing-room then checked her eyes were not too red, before venturing downstairs. She would ask him to forgive her and explain why she’d been so upset. She was halfway downstairs when she saw him striding across the hall on his way out. She watched in despair as Renshaw opened the front door and bowed him on his way. She couldn’t put things right today, but would tomorrow be too late to heal the breach in their relationship before it became permanent?
*
Jack stood at the head of the imposing marble steps that led down from Upton Manor unsure whether to go back inside or return to Thurston. What was it about Charlotte that brought out the very worst in him? Made him revert to autocratic officer, treat her like a snivelling schoolboy? God, what a mull they had made of it together. She berating him like a shrew and he responding like the veriest nincompoop. He should have sent word to her, but was not yet used to having another care whether he was alive or dead.
He pushed himself away from the door just as Jethro rounded the corner with the carriage. ‘Miss Carstairs and the children will not be returning this morning. Miss Beth is unwell. Take the carriage back, you can return to collect them tomorrow morning.’ Jethro touched his cap and drove on. A stable-boy appeared with Phoenix, the horse’s temperament as fierce as his coat.
Jack vaulted into the saddle and ramming his boots home in the irons, clattered off down the drive. He had not told Charlotte what had happened overnight, how the militia had surrounded the cottage early this morning only to discover that one man had escaped under the cover of darkness, leaving his companion, the one with a bullet in the leg, to be captured.
The injured man was now at Thurston. Dr Andrews was attending to him at this very moment. Perhaps the man was well enough to be interrogated, the quack had not been sanguine about the villain’s chance of recovery. He had lost too much blood and fever had set in.
He was cantering out through the imposing iron gates, when he reined in abruptly. God’s teeth! Beth! Charlotte had said she was too ill to come home, that she had sat up all night with the child and he had not even enquired how she did. He turned the huge horse, urging him back into a canter. Small wonder she considered him insensitive, he couldn’t believe he had ridden off in this way.
A stable boy appeared on cue to take his horse but he detected a certain reluctance. Dipping into his pocket he removed a silver coin. He tucked it into the boy’s waistcoat pocket. ‘Here, lad, take this. It should compensate for stamped toes and a lump or two out of your arm.’
The urchin grinned. ‘Thank you, your grace. He’s a handful, this one, ain’t he? But I’ll see him right. Will you be wanting him again soon, your grace?’
Jack laughed. ‘I have no idea, possibly.’
Renshaw, equally vigilant, opened the doors at the precise moment Jack arrived at the top step. ‘Miss Carstairs is upsta
irs, shall I send word that you have returned, your grace?’
‘No, have someone conduct me to her.’
The butler snapped his fingers and a footman appeared. ‘Take Lord Thurston up to Miss Carstairs. I believe she is in the Green room.’
Young man was about to knock on the door to the room but Jack waved him away. If he was to be sent packing he wanted no sniggering footman to witness his embarrassment.
*
Charlotte heard the knock on the door and ignored it. She had no wish to speak to Renshaw and it could be no one else. Rose would come in through the servants’ door as would the tray she had ordered. She rolled over and pulled the covers over her head. She had been so overcome she had not even paused to remove her dress before flinging herself onto the bed hoping sleep would obliterate her misery.
She didn’t hear the door open softly or Jack’s footsteps muffled by the thick Persian carpet. The first she knew of his presence was when the bed dipped. She tried to wriggle away. She wasn’t ready to receive a second scolding. But her escape was prevented by his arms, one slipping under her shoulders, the other around her waist.
Held like this, her tear soaked face cradled in his hand, he rocked her gently. ‘Sweetheart, I am so sorry. I am a brute. Come, please don’t cry, little one. I cannot bear to see you so distraught.’
She couldn’t answer, the sobs she’d been doing her best to repress burst out. It was so long since anyone had held her and comforted her; normally she was the one to do the comforting. He soothed her, stroking her back, letting her cry. Eventually she shuddered and raised her eyes.
‘I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to shout at you, but I was worried and I had not slept.’
He mopped her face dry with his handkerchief, his expression tender. ‘It is I who must apologise to you, my love. I have no excuse to offer apart from the fact that…’
She reached out, stopping his lips with her fingers. ‘Do not apologize to me. You do not have to. It’s not your place to explain your actions; I promise I shall not question you like that again.’
He tensed and his lips opened, drawing her fingers into his mouth. Her breath stopped and a delicious heat pooled in her lower regions. Whilst his tongue caressed the tips of her fingers he pulled her close, crushing her breasts against his chest, whatever he wanted from her she would give it to him willingly.
Chapter Seventeen
Charlotte was melting, she no longer knew where her body ended and his began. She moved her head restlessly from side to side, not sure what she craved, but was aware it had to be he who gave it to her.
Her hand had fallen from his mouth and buried itself in his thick dark hair, revelling in the springy softness. His mouth seared its way along her collarbone before finding her parted lips and covering them with his own.
She understood what he wanted her to do and widening her mouth allowed his intimate invasion to send spirals of pleasure around her body. Tentatively she tangled her tongue with his and his response showed she had pleased him. He swung his legs onto the bed bringing one across hers. His boot caught her naked calf and she jerked back in pain.
Instantly he released her. ‘Damn it to hell! What am I thinking of? I’m sorry, sweetheart, my behaviour’s unpardonable.’ As he spoke he removed his legs from the bed and sat up.
She felt abandoned, unsettled, didn’t understand. She only had the vaguest idea what actually occurred between a man and woman but knew it usually involved removing one’s garments. She was fairly sure it wasn’t usual for the gentleman to be wearing his boots and topcoat. Jack had no reason to apologize, apart from bruising her leg with his boots.
‘It was your boots, they hurt my leg. Perhaps it would help if you removed them?’
He bent down, kissed her and stepped back. ‘Don’t tempt me, my love, I am finding it difficult enough.’
She giggled, stretching like a contented cat, aware her breasts strained enticingly within the confines of her rumpled bodice. ‘I believe I’m beginning to enjoy this….’
‘Lovemaking?’
‘Oh! Is that what it’s called? How very appropriate.’ She wriggled to the edge of the bed and tumbled off in a rush of arms and legs. ‘Not only do you have your boots on, you still have on your topcoat.’
‘I do, my love, and they must remain on for the present.’ He reached out and tried ineffectually to straighten his neck cloth. She stepped up to do it for him but he warded her off. ‘No, sweetheart, please don’t touch me. I haven’t the willpower to prevent myself finishing what we started.’
‘Your stock is ruined, whatever will people think?’
His rich, dark chuckle sent ripples of excitement down her spine. ‘I expect they will draw their own conclusions and think that I am an unprincipled rogue.’
‘And I am one too for I was a willing partner in this… this lovemaking.’ She attempted to shake the creases out of her gown. She feared his arrival had destroyed
any hope she might have had of being able to appear in public dressed as she was.
He strolled over to the chaise longue and lounged back, crossing his legs. He pointed to a delicate walnut armchair with a padded seat. ‘Sit there, my dear, we have to talk. Tell me, how is Beth? One of the reasons I returned was to discover how she does.’
‘She is much recovered this morning, I’m glad to say. She has had bouts of fever before, and always responds to the cooling treatment papa taught me.’
‘And Harry? I’m surprised he hasn’t come bouncing in to see me.’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘But he is at Thurston - he returned an hour ago with Annie and the animals in Doctor Andrews’s carriage.’
‘I rode across the fields, not along the lane. I must have missed them, but I’m glad he is well. How long will you be obliged to stay here?’
‘I intend to return tomorrow, another day’s rest is usually sufficient to restore Beth. I have sent for Mary and some fresh garments.’ She grinned. ‘I must look a sad romp, and this poor gown used to be my best.’
‘You look enchanting, my love, as always. But I would suggest you adjust your dress before going downstairs again.’ His expression was innocent but his tone teasing.
She glanced down and flushed scarlet. ‘How could you allow me to sit with you like this?’ Hastily she pulled the bodice straight. ‘I don’t like your tendency to find fun at my expense, sir,’ she said stiffly.
He yawned and stretched. ‘Do you not, sweetheart? That is a great shame as you are going to have to learn to live with it.’
Incensed, she jumped up. ‘There is no talking to you in this mood. I’m going to see how Beth is.’
Ignoring her annoyance he said lazily. ‘Very well, my dear, then I shall return to Thurston, my tale untold.’
She stopped. How silly of her - she didn’t know what had happened during the long night she had spent worrying herself sick. Crossly she returned to her seat and glared at him. ‘Well, my lord, tell me.’
He straightened and began his story. When he’d finished she had quite forgotten her annoyance. ‘The injured man, do you think he will tell you who’s behind these attacks?’
‘I sincerely hope so, but, as I said Andrews doesn’t hold out much hope for his recovery.’
‘And the other man, what of him?’
‘Captain Forsythe and his troop are scouring the vicinity. He’s also searching for the carriage which collected the corpses; if we can find that we shall have the paymaster the man behind all this, and the reasons for it.’
‘I’ve been considering all the possibilities and have come to the conclusion it has to be linked to your inheritance. You must speak to the lawyers; they must have had a list of possible heirs to pursue when grandfather died. I never asked you— how remote is your connection to me?’
He shrugged. ‘I have no idea. When I discovered I had inherited, I didn’t question it.
I was still recovering and was just glad I had somewhere to hide away.’
‘We haven’t
spoken of this before, but I must ask you, did a lady turn you away?’
‘She did, and it damned near killed me. I carried Sophia’s image in my head when I fought, her love kept me going in the most dangerous circumstances. Knowing she was waiting for me kept me alive, stopped me taking stupid risks.’ He seemed lost in his thoughts and Charlotte didn’t like to intrude. ‘It never occurred to me she would no longer wish to marry me. Maybe if I had been a duke then she would have taken me and tried to ignore her revulsion.’
‘I’m sorry she treated you badly. But she is the loser, not you.’ His head stayed down so she got up and joined him on the day bed. ‘Jack, your face is damaged but you are still a handsome man. You must know that it’s what’s on the inside that matters and you are brave, resourceful, kind and intelligent. Think, did you see anyone flinch away in horror in Ipswich the other day? Have you seen the maids and footmen here retreat in shock?’
Slowly he raised his head. ‘I hadn’t thought, but no, you’re correct.’ He ran his fingers over his scar. ‘Do you know, I’ve not looked in a mirror since that day, is it possible things have improved?’
‘Go and see for yourself, there’s a looking-glass above the mantelshelf.’
He walked over and for the first time in over two years stared at his reflection. She held her breath. How would he react? She hardly noticed his injury now and even when she had first seen him, it was not that which had repelled her, but his unkempt appearance, his brooding expression and his inebriation.
He straightened his cravat before turning back. ‘I’m not as hideous as I was, but I am still disfigured, have only one working eye. But obviously I no longer frighten old women and children by my freakish appearance.’
She laughed. ‘It’s your bad temper and drunkenness that frighten people, not your face.’ For moment she thought she’d gone too far, said too much, for he appeared to freeze.
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