by Jade Lee
Caroline rushed to explain. “It is nothing significant. I enjoy the task.”
“I have already seen to an increase in your pay,” his lordship said. “The moment I realized you supported your mother as well.”
She bit her lip. Payment was tracked belowstairs. He could not be giving her extra money because of her mother. She opened her mouth to object, but he waved her away.
“Do not think to argue. A companion earns a great deal more than a housekeeper—”
“And besides,” inserted his sister, “you have been doing the work of both lately, so you should receive adequate compensation.”
Caroline dipped her head in gratitude. “Thank you, my lord, my lady. The extra money would be a blessing.”
Lady Anne tsked as she waved an airy hand. “I assure you, my brother can afford it.”
His lordship gave a teasing moan. “Statements like that make me fear for our future. No fortune can withstand reckless spending.”
Lady Anne set down her tea with a click. “Really, Gregory…” Her words continued, but Caroline didn’t listen. This was a common argument between the siblings, with the brother espousing moderation and the sister wishing for excess. It was familiar banter for everyone here, and she found the talk soothing even though her blood simmered with excitement.
What did his lordship mean by arranging for her absence tonight? Did he intend for them to be together? Far away from prying eyes and ears?
She hoped so. She so desperately hoped!
And just when her mind had taken her into places altogether inappropriate, his lordship’s voice interrupted her musing.
“So is that acceptable to you, Mrs. Lyncott? Will you visit your mother this evening rather than early tomorrow morning?”
She saw a banked intensity in his eyes, a heated promise of what he wanted to do that night. She found herself nodding, pushing words through a suddenly dry throat. “It will make it much easier, my lord. Thank you.” She pushed to her feet, pleased that her legs still worked. “I shall pack a bag immediately.”
“And I,” said Lady Anne as she set down her teacup, “shall have a word with Cook and Jenny.”
Caroline glanced back at her mistress. “Is there something wrong? Has Jenny erred—”
“On the contrary, you have trained her well. She will be an excellent housekeeper soon.”
Caroline nodded. The initial plan had been for Jenny to apprentice with her to gain training and a reference before searching for her own position. But now that Caroline was his lordship’s mistress, would he want her to return as his housekeeper once the Season was done? Would he set her up in another house to visit as he willed? Or would he grow tired of her, discard her as a lover, and then sack her as a housekeeper? After all, no man wanted a former lover around.
She didn’t know the answer, and truthfully, she didn’t care to think too much about it. Whatever happened would happen, regardless of her wishes. So with a quick curtsey to both lord and lady, Caroline left to pack a bag for the night. But what did one wear to an assignation?
***
The theater had been a delight, not that Caroline could focus on it. The farce, the tragedy of Macbeth, even the preening display of all the ton could not hold her attention. Her thoughts were on Gregory as he sat beside her, Gregory as he exchanged political discussion with a seemingly brilliant baron, Gregory as he smiled at her, a promise in his eyes.
“I am going insane,” he whispered into her ear at one moment. That was all they had as he rose from his seat to greet a viscount come to court Lady Anne.
Eventually, it was over. Lady Anne left in their carriage while his lordship found them another. And then they headed to somewhere far from her mother’s home.
“Where are we going?” she asked, her voice breathless.
“A place my friend owns.”
She swallowed. He had told a friend about her? Of course, it was to be expected. She was now a mistress, after all, but she blanched at the thought.
“He does not know why I borrowed it,” Gregory said, as if reading her thoughts. “His servants prepare the place and then depart. We shall be entirely alone.”
A place for assignations then. “I see,” she whispered, the butterflies in her stomach at war with the excitement in her blood.
Then she heard him shift in the carriage, his body abruptly joining her on her seat. “Forgive me, but I am too impatient to wait.”
So saying, he caught her chin in his gloved hand and pulled her close for a kiss. She didn’t fight him. Indeed, she’d been waiting for this moment all night. She wrapped her arms around him, arched herself into his body, and gave herself to him.
His kiss was fire in her blood, the thrust of his tongue an erotic possession that had her belly tightening with hunger. He plundered her mouth then abruptly jerked backwards with a curse.
“I want to touch you for real,” he said as he stripped out of his gloves. Then he was back with her as his fingers delved into her hair and scattered pins everywhere.
She might have laughed at his insatiable kiss. He was everywhere—in her mouth, across her lips, kissing down her neck. She might have teased him, but she was feeling too hungry for what he did, too much in love with the sensations he stirred.
“I have been thinking of this dress all night,” he whispered against her neck.
“My dress?”
“I know there is nothing beneath it.”
She frowned, trying to pull thoughts from her scattered mind. She almost phrased a question, almost asked him what he meant. But then he grabbed at her skirt, pulling it upward.
“Gregory!” she gasped.
His hand clenched her thigh, below the top of her stocking. Then he slipped between her legs, pushing upward.
“Say my name again,” he said. Suddenly, his fingers were between her legs, stroking her in a way that had her entire body seizing with surprised pleasure.
“Gregory,” she whispered, the word breathless. Then she cried out as his finger penetrated deep inside. “Oh!”
She felt him smile against her cheek. “Not enough,” he said as his breath heated her skin.
His finger withdrew, only to be replaced by two. He stretched her, he pushed inside her, and he spread her thighs wider on the squabs.
“Gregory,” she gasped, his name a plea and a cry. She wanted him inside her. She wanted the release only he could give her.
She reached for him, but he stopped her with one hand. “I’ll not take you in the back of a carriage.”
She laughed, the sound high-pitched. What were they doing then? He answered her as he shifted his hand so that his thumb rolled across that place that had her crying out in delight.
“I’m splitting a fine hair, I know,” he said, laughter in his tone. “I never tire of this, Caroline. Of hearing you cry out. Of feeling you grip me. Of the way you surrender so completely.”
As he spoke, he circled her nub. He pressed against it. He stroked it. When the carriage bounced over a rut, he finished it. Her body seized, then exploded into pleasure. She would have screamed, but he caught her mouth just in time. What cries she made were lost in his kiss while she pumped beneath him, his fingers still deep inside her.
Is this love? she wondered hazily. This explosion of pleasure, this complete abandonment of everything she thought proper and moral? She didn’t know, but at the moment, she was too sated to care.
And all the while, he sat beside her, holding her steady when she was too weak to do more than lie there. He smoothed down her gown. He grinned like a boy with a new toy, and he simply watched.
“I have lost all sense of propriety,” she said. “Never would I have imagined I’d do such a thing in a carriage.”
“Me neither, truth be told.” Then he stroked her arm. “Do you regret it?”
She laughed, her voice gr
owing stronger now as she recovered. “Not in the least. You?”
“Never.”
And in this way, they arrived at their destination. She felt the carriage slow, and then he looked out the window while she pushed herself upright.
“No one watches this place, and fewer would care who comes and goes here. But even so, I have brought you a cloak.” He passed it to her, and she pulled it on as best she could in the small confines of the carriage and drew the hood over her face.
He paused to look at her a moment. “It’s a crime to hide your loveliness, Caroline, but a necessity.”
She squeezed his hand, touched that he could say such things. Especially after seeing her scars. A moment later, he pushed open the carriage door. He paid the jarvey quickly, then ushered her up the steps of a modest home. It was small and set back from the street, and as nondescript as it was possible for a house to be. Once inside, he gestured down the hallway.
“There’s a supper laid out in the dining room if you’re hungry. Or—”
“Can we not go upstairs?” she asked. How bold she’d become. “I have no need for food just now.”
His eyes seemed to blaze then he swooped down and lifted her into his arms.
She laughed as he headed up the stairs. “You are always carrying me!”
“You weigh next to nothing.”
That was absolutely not true, but she didn’t care. Not when she could unfasten his shirt buttons. She had a sudden need to feel his body.
“Oh Caroline,” he half growled. “You will make this a short night’s pleasure if you keep that up.”
“Somehow,” she teased, “I think I will be pleasantly surprised.”
He laughed, the sound full and hearty. It was a lovely sound. One she had never heard before. And if she had not already been in love with him, she would have tumbled at that moment.
“Give me a child,” she suddenly whispered. “Please, give me something of you before this ends.”
She thought nothing could stop their headlong progress up the stairs. She was wrong, because at her words, he came to a dead stop. He stared, his eyes unfathomable in the darkness.
“You mean that, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“How would you survive? How would you care for yourself or your child? A babe out of wedlock.”
“I don’t know,” she said in all honesty. “And maybe I would regret it. But no man will have me as an honest wife. What other way am I to have a child?” She looked into his eyes, showing him all of her heart, all of her love. “I want the babe to be your child. I’ll make no claims on your title. If he be a boy, you need not fear that. I just—”
There were no more words as he kissed her. His possession of her mouth was rapid and hard, and she opened herself completely
They climbed the stairs to the bedroom. As before, he set her on the bed, following her down as he dominated her mouth. Then before she could do more than murmur her pleasure, he pulled himself away.
She watched as he stripped off his coat and cravat. She had already unbuttoned his shirt, so it was easy to remove that as well. “It’s too cold in here for you.”
“I don’t care,” she said. All she wanted was him.
He ignored her, dropping down beside the grate. He lit a fire in a minute, and then he stood before her, naked to the waist. She had already stripped off her stockings and shoes, but the dress remained. She needed him to help her with the buttons.
And yet, he didn’t move. Instead, he looked at her, his eyes hooded, his expression unreadable.
“Gregory?”
“I know I swore not to ask questions.”
She gasped. Never did she think he would press her now! Not when she could see the hard ridge of his cock against his pants. Not when she sat on the bed, willing for anything he chose.
“I won’t ask if you don’t wish it,” he said. Then he settled on the bed beside her. “But I have learned a few things about what happened when you were sixteen.”
A hiss escaped her lips. He could not know!
“I would rather you told me. I should like to know what happened.”
“No,” she said, the word escaping without thought. “No!”
“I know you were a virgin,” he continued, his words gentle. He touched her hand then, stroking the back. She snatched it away, coiling both hands together at her chest, just above her scars. “I know you were hurt by an evil man, and it was not your fault.”
She shook her head. “Do not ask this of me.”
“I don’t care what happened, Caroline, except that it still haunts you.” He touched her hands, gently pulling them from her chest. “I do not care, Caroline. But you believe there is no future now. You are trapped by an evil that occurred a decade ago.”
She turned her face away. She could not look into his eyes when he spoke of such things.
“Tell me what happened, Caroline. Not so that I will know, but so you can stop hiding from it. Tell me so that it will no longer stand between us.”
She winced. It would always be between them. It was cut deep into her chest.
“You hold yourself apart because of it. You imagine only a bleak, lonely future because of it. You hide from it in high dresses, and sometimes, I even see you hunch away from me as if to keep me from seeing.” He touched her chin, gently pulling her back. “Tell me what happened, my love. Tell me so that I can tell you what I feel, what I see, and what I know when I look at you.”
She looked at him. Once again, he had pulled her back into the world, seduced her back into feeling emotions a woman feels for a man. That meant she had to feel this again too. Was he worth it? Was the time spent with him worth reliving what had happened the last time she had wanted a man? Yes, she supposed he was.
“It is not a pretty tale,” she rasped. Then she looked at her hands. “I have never told anyone the whole of it.”
He didn’t speak. He simply waited, still holding her hands. And in the end, she found the courage to tell him everything.
Eight
Caroline couldn’t look at him as she spoke. Instead, she settled into a demure posture on the bed. Her back remained straight, and she folded her hands. And though he didn’t touch her, she was acutely aware of him sitting across from her, of his steady regard and gentle expression.
Whatever she told him, she believed he wouldn’t judge her harshly. Or so she prayed.
“You must understand,” she began, taking the long route to the tale. “My father didn’t speak much of our connection to the Duke of Bucklynde. He accepted his life and was happy. My mother, on the other hand, insisted that once the old duke passed, we would be brought back into the family fold. And with that thought in mind, she made sure everything we did lived up to the ducal name. We were poor, but our clothing was always neat. I was never allowed to speak or act in any way that was not excruciatingly proper. And she never tolerated disobedience.”
She saw him wince and nearly laughed. Of all her tale, that was the easiest part to confess. Then he spoke, and it took a moment for his words to sink into her consciousness.
“Sounds like a hard way to be a child in London, where one is never alone and gossips are everywhere hoping to carry a story. Your mother set all of you up as better than those you lived with. How many people tried to take you down a peg? And how much did you hate her for it?”
She blinked, startled by his words. She opened her mouth to deny it. Of course, she hadn’t hated her mother. Of course, she’d had friends. But the words wouldn’t leave her mouth. “I did hate her,” she whispered. “I hated everything about the pretense. We were no better than anyone else, and her airs only made it worse.”
“I would think it was a great deal more than that,” he said gently. “For me—it was my father who demanded a rigid code of behavior to uphold the title. At least I cou
ld run wild on the moors when I needed. But here in London, there was nowhere for you to go. By the time you were a young woman, you must have been ripe for anyone who offered you an escape.”
She looked at him, seeing the understanding on his face. He was offering her an excuse, a way to explain what happened that took all the blame away.
“It wasn’t that simple,” she said softly. “Many girls grow up as I did, and they don’t…” Her throat closed down. They didn’t end up with a man’s initials carved on their chests.
“It’s never simple, Caroline. And no matter what happened, I cannot blame you. I know too much of who you are now to believe you deserved such a fate.”
She smiled. “You are determined to believe the best in me.”
“And you are determined to castigate yourself for something that happened when you were a child.” Then he moved, repositioning on the bed to lean against the headboard. He rested there a moment, his arms relaxed and open, and he looked at her. He would not press, she knew, but a moment later, she joined him. Curling against his chest, she took solace from his hard strength, the warmth of his body, and the steady beat of his heart. When his arms came around her and he pressed his cheek to her head, she released a breath of contentment.
If only they could stay like this forever, then she would be happy.
Eventually, her words began again. She liked that he didn’t force her, just waited patiently. And in his silence, she found the words.
“His name was Damon. Our older brothers were best friends. Radley loved anything that had to do with boats, as did Damon’s brother, Ethan, who eventually joined the navy. Because of their interest in the sea, Ethan and Radley became inseparable, and… well…” She sighed. “You have to understand, my brother was my only companion. When he began to spend all his time with Ethan, I felt abandoned. Damon did, too, by his brother. So we turned to each other.”
“I doubt that was the only reason he looked to you,” Gregory said. “You must have been like a pearl among swine. A lady surrounded by gin sots.”
