by Jade Lee
“But your heart has been dead, my brother. Perhaps it has been since our parents passed. I don’t know. But it has been completely absent since Cora.”
He patted her hand, hoping that platitudes would allow him to escape this difficult conversation. “And you have been crying for the last two years. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
“Goodness, everyone has noticed. That’s not a great observational feat.”
No, it wasn’t. “Anne, pray what is it you wish to say? I have dallied here too long.”
Her hands tightened on his, the movement not meant to be comforting but as a censure. He allowed it, of course. He allowed his sister all manner of things, the first of which was to sit here speaking of his heart.
“You have not dallied enough, my brother. You need a bit of fun. Laughter in your days, joy in your life.”
“I have a great deal of joy, Anne,” he lied.
“Have you thought of spending more time with Caroline?”
He blinked. At the mention of her name, his body froze, his thoughts stopped, and he could not have spoken had his life depended upon it. Fortunately, his sister did not require his commentary.
“I’ve noticed how you look at her. She is lovely and very kind. I should like to think of you with a kind woman.”
“Anne! Never say you hope I will marry my housekeeper!” He said the words, even tinged them with horror, and yet part of him wondered. He could do worse than to have a woman as elegant as Caroline by his side.
“I never said a word about marriage, Gregory. I merely said I noticed how you look at her. And so I thought, perhaps, she would be good for you. Perhaps you could…” Her fingers twisted awkwardly in his. “You know. Enjoy her company. Carnally speaking.”
“Anne!”
“Well, many men do it!”
“I am not many men.”
She huffed out a breath. “And that is the problem! Perhaps if you enjoyed yourself one way, it might open the door for other enjoyments, other more appropriate women. It might help you return to the living.”
He thought over the afternoon’s activity. Anne had all but forced him to waltz with Caroline. And there had been other moments, other small events where she encouraged him to consult with his housekeeper or left him alone with the woman. “You have been encouraging the connection!”
She shrugged. “Well, you did seem interested.”
He groaned. “Anne, she is in our employ!”
“And you should not hide yourself away like a monk.”
He leaned back on the settee. “I have no intentions toward Mrs. Lyncott,” he lied. Well, perhaps it wasn’t a complete lie. His intentions regarding the woman had always been honorable. His actions and his thoughts, on the other hand, had gone contrary to what he intended.
“Anne, what is it you wish of me?”
“I want you to find a wife, brother dear. If I am to husband hunt this Season, then I require that you search for a wife. We shall aim to be wed by year’s end, if possible—both of us living our lives as is proper and natural. With spouses, and eventually, children.”
His expression softened, and he impulsively hugged his sister. “It is good to hear you say such a thing. I had despaired that it would ever happen.”
She returned his embrace, but then she pulled away. “Swear to me, Gregory. Swear you will look for a wife.”
“Anne, I have no interest—”
“Swear it, or I will give up my Season right here, right now.”
He glared at her. “We already had an agreement, Anne. Your Mr. Pike is out of gaol. In return—”
“I promised I would have a Season. And I am. I did not promise to husband hunt.
“Anne! You know that was the purpose of the entire bargain.”
“Well, what is that to the point? I cannot help it if you are a terrible negotiator.”
He was not a terrible negotiator. He was simply terrible at managing his sister.
She smiled as if sensing his thoughts. “I see you understand me. Well then, have we a bargain? Husband-hunting in return for wife-hunting. We shall be veritable woodsmen in the haut ton.”
He grimaced, wondering if there was ever a more bizarre conversation. But as he considered his options, his mind went back to Caroline’s whispered words. Just as you worry for her future happiness, she is concerned about yours. Was it possible that his sister could not progress without being assured of his happiness? It was ridiculous. A woman’s life should not be predicated on her brother’s, and yet, looking into his sister’s eyes, he knew it was true.
He would not be content until she was settled. And apparently, she felt the same about him.
“Very well,” he finally said. “If I am to escort you to every ball and soiree this Season, I might as well look at the latest crop of girls.”
“Excellent!” she cried, clapping her hands together in delight. “There will be one there for you. I am sure.”
“Just so long as you look to the men, Anne. Pick a good one for yourself.”
Her laughter trilled even louder. So loudly, in fact, that he knew she forced it. “I shall look and look,” she said, “until I find exactly the man for me. I promise.”
He nodded, pushing to his feet. She stood with him, impulsively hugging him again. He returned it warmly. She was his sister, after all, and he loved her deeply. And perhaps she had a certain perspective on his life that he lacked. Perhaps his attraction to his housekeeper was simply a man’s natural desires coming out when they had been forestalled elsewhere. After all, he had not taken a lover or even visited a brothel since his first wild days in London.
“So we are agreed then, Gregory? You will find a woman who makes you happy.”
She beamed, and he was struck by how very lovely his sister was. It was a crime that she had hidden herself away these last years. “I do declare that the next weeks will be exciting indeed.”
“I am breathless with anticipation,” he said.
There was more conversation. He endured female discourse on his attire, his coach, and his ability to do the pretty with young ladies. He listened with half an ear, waiting with increasing irritation for the moment he could leave.
It came after another twenty minutes, and by that time, he was fairly itching to escape. He excused himself, reassured that Anne would be sorting through the invitations that had come in during the dancing lesson, and then headed to the one place he should not go.
Caroline’s bedroom.
Four
Caroline sat at her desk and stared at the papers before her. There were a stack of receipts, a list of orders, and next week’s menus. The apprentice housekeeper was picking up her tasks quickly, but the girl couldn’t do everything at once, so it was left to Caroline to review.
Except she did nothing more than stare at the papers, her mind absorbed with thoughts of being in his lordship’s arms.
Dancing had never been that much fun. She’d never actually danced at a party, but she had always filled in sets for her mother’s students. Her mother had watched each step critically to make sure that everything was executed to the height of propriety and the detriment of any joy. Step here, arm there, hold your head high. And God forbid she actually sweated during the process. A lady did not perspire!
She fanned herself now with her handkerchief. There had been no thought to steps or to propriety in his lordship’s arms. That had been about touch and his powerful strides. She had felt as if a great man was guiding her into something extraordinary.
It was nothing more than a dance—and a practice one at that—but her heart had felt something else entirely. It recalled every second that she had spent in his lordship’s presence. She remembered how he had welcomed her into his home, how he had been unfailingly kind, and how he had rescued her from death a week ago.
And she wanted it all. T
he soaring feel of dancing in his arms, the excitement that made a woman’s heart beat and her head spin, the amazingly giddy delight of being a woman with a handsome man. And what a fool she was to risk that again when the last time had destroyed her life. Why dance and soar and feel with a man who could never be hers?
Then he stepped into her room.
It was shocking, really. She could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times he had ventured here. Most great houses had a room for the butler and another for the housekeeper. But this was London, where space was hard to come by. So when she had joined the household, he had given her the largest bedroom on the servants’ floor, added a desk and sitting area, and made this the housekeeper’s province. Her province. And now, he was here.
She pushed to her feet, wondering belatedly if he was really here or simply a product of her fevered imaginings. “M-my lord?” she asked, ashamed that her voice quavered.
He nodded then quietly shut the door behind them, closeting them inside. It was inappropriate, but she could not bring herself to care.
“I apologize, Mrs. Lyncott,” he said, his voice a low rasp. “I needed to speak with you in private.”
“I could have come to your library,” she said, but he shook his head.
“In secret as well.”
Her eyes widened. Bad enough that the low timbre of his voice settled warmly and tantalizingly in her spine. Worse that he was enacting her secret fantasy. The Earl of Hartfell was in her bedroom.
When she didn’t answer, she watched him frown before he suddenly gasped. “Oh no!” His gaze darted to her neatly made bed. “Not like that!” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I need to know what my sister is about.”
She folded her hands together, using the motion to quiet the disappointment momentarily crushing her. It was ridiculous. Of course, he hadn’t come here to make love, but to have the shock written so clearly on his face was damaging to her pride. She wasn’t so horrible, was she? That he couldn’t even conceive of it? Especially after their dance.
Those thoughts flashed through her mind, while the rest of her struggled to understand what he truly wanted. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“The devil you don’t.” Then he tightened his hands into fists as he stifled a curse. “I apologize, Mrs. Lyncott.” He gestured to her chair. “Please, would you sit? I am having a terrible time thinking clearly.”
She nodded politely, but she didn’t move. If anything reminded her that she was servant and he was master, it was that she stood in his presence and he could sit.
“Mrs. Lyncott,” he began, “I have just had the most extraordinary conversation with my sister. Coming on the heels of your statement that she is worried for my happiness, it all mounts up to a rather disturbing picture.”
“There is nothing disturbing about a sister wishing her brother well.”
“No, of course not, but this is Lady Anne. You have not known her as long as I have. She can be quite devious.”
He took a deep breath, and Caroline watched the broad expanse of his chest widen with the motion. He really was a fine looking man, and he called to her. She had known many such men, people who were funny or intriguing on some level. She would listen and interact, but she had never lusted. No one else drew her into the world quite so completely or so easily. And all he did was stand there and rub his chin in frustration.
“She has said things that distract me a great deal,” he said.
Caroline felt a twinge of unease. Isn’t that exactly what Lady Anne had said she’d do? That she would use Caroline to distract her brother? “What did she say?”
His lordship waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter. The point is, she is doing something while my mind is elsewhere, and I want to know what.”
“I don’t—”
“Has she been to see that gypsy? What was his name?”
“Mr. Pike, my lord.”
He snapped his fingers. “Yes, that’s the one. Has she seen him?”
Now here was a delicate position. She did not like being put between brother and sister, at risk of betraying the confidence of one in favor of the other. But Lady Anne hadn’t specifically said it was a secret.
Meanwhile, his lordship noted her hesitation. “She has, hasn’t she?”
Caroline shrugged. “She visited him in gaol some days ago.”
“Alone? Good God—”
“She returned perfectly safe with no harm done.”
He folded his arms across his chest, his expression furious. “We do not yet know that,” he said dryly. “She is the daughter of an earl. She cannot be known to visit gypsies.”
“I’m sure none will speak of it. And that was some days ago.”
He frowned. “So she has not been to see him since.”
This time she didn’t hesitate, though heaven knew she was treading a fine line. “I have no knowledge of such a meeting,” she said.
Unfortunately, his lordship was an intelligent man. And he knew his sister well. “So you believe she has gone.”
“No, my lord.” She sighed. “I believe she intends to go.”
He swallowed his curse, but she could read his fury on his face. Then a moment later, his temper cooled, and his angry expression was replaced by a look of desperation. “What am I to do? I have already forbidden the association, and when that didn’t work, I bargained. She promised, Mrs. Lyncott, and yet I fear she still…” He cut off his words and looked at her.
Caroline chose her words with care, but they were no less true because she phrased them delicately. “You are being arrogant again, my lord. It is common for men of your set, of course, but it is a problem nonetheless.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You do not have the power to dissuade a woman from her desires. I assure you, my lord, no man—brother or not—can dictate such a thing.”
He was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, it was quietly, without the fury that had marked their conversation. “So she desires this man?”
“I don’t know. You have done everything you can, my lord. You are distracting her with a Season, offering any number of gentlemen as alternatives. You have not locked her away on bread and water—”
“I considered it, I assure you.”
“You wisely chose not to because it would merely goad her into disobedience.”
He blew out a breath. “Yes, I know. Father used to dictate to her with those same results. I hadn’t realized at the time that he was desperate. And that was merely to keep her from running alone on the moors.”
She smiled, imagining the sight. “She must have been quite the handful as a child.”
“Especially in Scotland. She would never remain inside if there was the least opportunity to escape. There were a few times she spent the night on the moors merely because she’d forgotten the time.”
“Truly?” Caroline asked. “I cannot imagine such a thing.”
“That is because you have lived your life in London. There is a wildness in the moors that calls to people. An openness that both stirs and quiets the soul.” Then he grimaced. “I suppose that makes no sense.”
“On the contrary, my lord, it sounds poetic. Not strange at all.”
“I am not a poetic man. Merely one who has been driven to distraction by his sister.”
She smiled, taking an impulsive step forward. “You are worried about her, just as she worries about you.”
He looked at her, his expression hopeful. “So you think the Season will do the trick? It will distract her from that gypsy?”
“I believe it has the most chance of success.”
“That is not a ringing endorsement.”
She shrugged, abruptly speaking her heart despite the consequences. “Can any of us direct our hearts? Whether we will it or not, the desires speak.”
&
nbsp; “Yes,” he said, his voice low enough to draw her to look into his eyes. “Yes, that is certainly true.”
Which is when she saw it. Desire. Hunger. All the passion she had secretly harbored in her thoughts were there in his eyes. For her. He was looking at her, and her belly clenched in response.
“My l-lord,” she whispered.
“Gregory. Just for this moment, will you say my name?”
She swallowed, her mind spinning warnings. Stay back. Turn away. Do not… “Gregory.” She had no mental distance as he touched her cheek. She felt the stroke across her skin as a trail of fire that burned deeper than the scars upon her chest. Alive. She was alive, and she wanted this man.
“Caroline.” He took a step closer, and her skin prickled in awareness beneath her clothes. “Do you want to know how my sister hopes to distract me?”
She swallowed, her head tilting as he came impossibly close.
“With you,” he said. “By throwing us together, by putting thoughts of you into my heart.”
Caroline shook her head. “I am your housekeeper. You would never do such a thing.” But oh, how she wanted him to.
“Never?” he challenged. “Never think of touching you? Never think of the things that a man wants with a beautiful woman?”
Tears burned her eyes. Did he think her beautiful? If only he knew. If only…
His thumb brushed her lips, a gentle stroke that had them parting in invitation.
“Shall I tell you a secret, Caroline?” He leaned down, and she reached up. “I needed no help in looking at you. The idea was there long before my sister arrived at this house.”
He kissed her. His lips were gentle, but no less demanding. She’d had plenty of time to stop him, so when she did not, he gave her no quarter. His mouth moved across hers, and his tongue thrust inside. He pulled her tight to his body, and she melted into the sensation of his arm wrapped around her waist, his chest flush against hers, and his other hand stroking her neck. Up and down with his thumb, across skin that had never been touched like that.
