Confessions at Midnight

by Jacquie D’Alessandro

  Carolyn leaned forward and kissed Sarah's cheek. "Thank you."

  "You're welcome." She lowered her voice. "Don't look now, but Lord Surbrooke is across the room speaking to…" She craned her neck. "… Lady Margate. He's just caught sight of you and-oh, my, what a look came into his eyes. Like a flare of fire upon dry kindling."

  Carolyn couldn't help but look. Her gaze locked with Daniel's across the room, and it seemed as if everything between them-the guests, the noise, the music, the clink of crystal glasses-all faded away. Myriad questions bombarded her and it was all she could do to remain in place and not rush across the room to ask him. Did you read the book? My note? Are you as anxious to be together again as I am?

  "Julianne and Emily are about to descend upon us," Sarah said from the corner of her mouth. "I'm going to leave you in their very capable hands while I locate my husband, who promised me a dance."

  Wondering how long it would take Daniel to approach her, Carolyn offered him a discreet nod, one he returned. Then she forced her attention to Emily and Julianne, who were demanding to hear the details of last night's shooting. When she glanced back to where she'd last seen Daniel, he was gone, as was Lady Margate, to whom he'd been speaking. Was he on his way across the room? Her heart quickened with the notion. But after a quarter hour had passed in conversation with Julianne and Emily and he'd yet to approach her, her spirits sank. Where was he, and why hadn't he come to her?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Some women enjoy the confines of marriage, but I embraced the freedom of widowhood, having no one to answer to but myself. I was free to concentrate my attention on one lover, or, if I so desired, allow my attention to wander to more than one gentleman.

  Memoirs of a Mistress by An Anonymous Lady

  "Enjoying the party?"

  The question pulled Daniel's attention away from Carolyn, who stood near the punch bowl on the opposite side of the crowded room, and he turned. Matthew stood next to him, champagne glass in hand.

  "Of course I'm enjoying the party." A complete lie. He'd done his duty, chatting and mingling with the other guests, including Gideon Mayne and Charles Rayburn, who were in attendance, still hoping to find a lead in Blythe's murder. More than once he'd felt their stares boring into him.

  But now that he'd fulfilled his social obligations, he wanted nothing more than to leave. With Carolyn, who, despite his best efforts, he hadn't been able to erase from his thoughts for so much as an instant. Especially after reading the explicit book she'd sent him. The brief words she'd written on the accompanying card were burned into his brain: I want all of this.

  And God knows, he wanted to give it all to her. And had decided to begin right away, by employing a method used by one the Anonymous Lady's lovers. At a party they both attended, the lady's lover had purposely kept his distance, building an air of anticipation. And now he was doing his damnedest to remain aloof, but the effort was costing him. Perhaps he'd be better served to employ a different method described in the book-that of spiriting his lover away to the nearest empty room, locking the door, and proceeding to show her how much he desired her. But given the gossip he knew was already circulating regarding them being together during last night's shooting, he decided for her sake to err on the side of discretion.

  Although, spiriting her away might be a better plan since that bastard Jennsen was now talking to her. And smiling at her. And damn it, she was smiling back. In fact, they were chatting like the best of friends.

  "I must say I'm surprised you're enjoying the party," said Matthew, "because you don't look as if you are. Your countenance resembles a storm cloud."

  Bloody hell. He wiped his expression clean then tossed back a swallow of his brandy. "The party is delightful."

  "Glad you think so. Personally, I cannot wait to get my lovely wife home and out of that very lovely gown she's wearing. Do you have plans for later this evening?"

  Yes. I'm going to toss that bastard Jennsen into the nearest privet hedge. Then make love to the most beautiful woman I've ever known. "Why do you ask?"

  "Just making conversation." He paused, then said, "Striking couple."

  "Who?"

  "Carolyn and Jennsen."

  Daniel's fingers tightened on his snifter. "They're not a couple," he said, proud of how nonchalant he sounded.

  "I hadn't thought so, but something my wife told me not a quarter hour ago changed my mind."

  "Oh? What did she tell you?"

  "Jennsen kissed her-'her' being Carolyn, of course. Not my wife. If he'd kissed my wife, I assure you he wouldn't be capable of attending a party."

  Everything inside Daniel froze. He slowly turned toward Matthew. "I beg your pardon?"

  "I said, 'If he'd kissed my wife-'"

  "Not that part."

  "Ah. Jennsen kissed Carolyn."

  Feeling as if he'd been stabbed, Daniel asked tersely, "When?"

  "Today."

  He shook his head. "You're mistaken." He had to be.

  "I assure you I'm not."

  "Where?"

  Matthew frowned. "Sarah didn't say, although if I had to guess, I'd say probably in the drawing room."

  "I meant where on her body did he kiss her? Her hand? Her cheek?" While he hated the idea of it, he supposed he could refrain from tossing Jennsen on his arse for kissing her hand or cheek. He supposed.

  Matthew shook his head. "Oh, no. On her lips. According to Sarah it was quite a kiss."

  He felt as if his pores were about to spew steam. "What the bloody hell does that mean?"

  Matthew cocked at brow at his tone. "Surely you've had ample enough lovers to know what sort of kiss 'quite' a kiss is."

  A red haze seemed to dull his vision. That bastard had kissed Carolyn. His Carolyn. He was going to do worse than toss Jennsen on his bloody colonial arse-he was going to kick it all the way back to America. He opened his mouth to speak, but in his fury no words came forth. He'd never, in his entire life, been so angry. Or so sickly jealous.

  Which was ridiculous. He held no claim on Carolyn. Like all his previous lovers, she was free to do whatever she wished with whomever she wanted. As was he. The problem was that, unlike all his previous liaisons, he didn't want anyone other than her. And the possibility that she might want someone other than him, might share with someone else the intimacies that she'd shared with him, all but cleaved him in two. Clearly Jennsen was attracted to her. Was she attracted to Jennsen as well?

  "What was her reaction to Jennsen's kiss?" He had to force the words past this tight throat.

  "I've no idea. But she doesn't appear to be angry with him. And clearly she didn't blacken his eyes." Matthew leaned closer. "I was under the impression you were interested in the lady. If so, you'd best stop fannying around."

  "What makes you think I'm fannying around?"

  "The fact that she's standing over there chatting and smiling with Jennsen and you're here with me is evidence enough."

  Daniel watched Jennsen hand Carolyn a fresh glass of punch and tried to banish the gut-wrenching the image of that bastard kissing his woman. Tasting her. Touching her skin. Making love to her.

  She isn't your woman. She's your lover. Nothing more. Yes. Which is what he'd wanted-his usual shallow affair. And what she'd wanted-because her heart remained devoted to Edward. Christ, it was bad enough he had to compete with her dead husband's memory-a man she set on a pedestal so high as to render him a near deity. Now he had to compete with Jennsen as well? A very much alive man who clearly had no qualms about taking what he wanted. And a man who, based on the way she was smiling at him, she obviously liked.

  Well, Daniel didn't have any qualms about taking what he wanted either, something Jennsen was going to discover before this evening was over.

  Beside him, Matthew said in an undertone, "Well, I wouldn't worry about it if I were you. I distinctly recall you telling me that all women look the same in the dark, so based on that theory, any woman will do as far as satisfying your lustful urges. Certai
nly there are a bevy of lovely females to choose from right here in this room."

  Were there? He hadn't noticed. The only woman he'd paid the slightest attention to all evening was Carolyn. Even while speaking to other women-such as Kimberly and Gwendolyn, Lady Margate, both of whom he'd once been intimate-he'd been completely aware of Carolyn. Where she was, with whom she spoke. How many times she looked in his direction. And he clearly needed to rethink his "all women look the same in the dark" theory since Carolyn had pulverized it into dust.

  Matthew made a tsking sound. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "You, my friend. I'm talking about you. A very short time ago you told me you only wanted an affair and that your heart remained your own."

  Daniel dragged his gaze away from Carolyn and Jennsen to glare at his friend. "Your point?"

  "I believe you've been hoist upon your own petard." He clapped his hand on Daniel's shoulder. "Having recently been through the gut-twisting experience of losing my heart, not to mention my soul, you have my sympathies."

  Daniel actually felt himself go pale. "I've done nothing of the sort."

  "I've been observing you, my friend, and you most certainly have."

  "Since when have you taken to observing me so closely?"

  Matthew flashed a smile. "Since you became so very interesting to watch. Consider me at your disposal should you need an ear to listen-or a shoulder to cry on."

  "I'm hardly going to burst into tears."

  Matthew gave an approving nod. "Keep that stiff upper lip. Good plan. As for me, I'll just wait for the moment until I can say 'I told you so.' And perhaps even collect on that fifty pound wager we made. In the meantime, I'm off to find the love of my life, take her home and get her into bed. I suggest you do the same. I wish you luck."

  His thoughts in turmoil, Daniel watched his friend walk away. Could Matthew be right? Had he foolishly lost his heart? Bloody hell, he certainly hoped not, because if he had, he'd done so with a woman who'd made it plain she didn't want it.

  He looked toward Carolyn, who now stood chatting with her friends Lady Julianne and Lady Emily. A quick scan of the area showed that bastard Jennsen moving toward the French doors leading to the terrace.

  Jaw tight, Daniel headed after him. When he stepped outside, Daniel saw his quarry standing alone in the corner, staring out into the small garden.

  "A moment of your time, Jennsen."

  Jennsen turned toward him and raised his brows, most likely at his peremptory tone. Daniel didn't give a damn.

  After muttering something that sounded suspiciously like This should prove entertaining, Jennsen inclined his head. "You resemble a teakettle about to spew steam, Surbrooke."

  Most likely because that's precisely how he felt. "You kissed Lady Wingate."

  Jennsen's brows rose and he looked slightly amused. "I don't see how that's any of your concern."

  "It is very much my concern. You are casting your amorous attentions in the wrong direction."

  "As far as I can tell, I'm free to cast them in any direction I please." He gave a short laugh. "Unlike you aristocrats, I'm not enslaved by a title or stringent rules regarding romance and marriage or the pressing need to provide an heir to some centuries old pile of rubble."

  "And yet you aspire to win the favor of a viscountess."

  "You know as well as I that Carolyn isn't like the other women in there." He jerked his chin toward the drawing room. "She only married into that title and has, thank God, retained the goodness from her more humble beginnings."

  Daniel's hands fisted at Jennsen's familiar use of her first name. "Which makes her far too good for you."

  "And perfect for you, I suppose."

  "That is none of your business. Suffice it to say the lady is not available."

  "Surely that is for her to decide." Jennsen narrowed his eyes. "Are you betrothed?" Before Daniel could answer, Jennsen added quickly, "No, of course you're not. Your aversion to marriage is well known." His lips curved upward in a slow smile. "I myself harbor no such aversion. I merely need to find the right woman."

  "I assure you that woman is not Lady Wingate." He stepped closer to Jennsen and took satisfaction that he stood just a bit taller than the American. "The lady has made her choice, and it's not you."

  Jennsen regarded him steadily. Finally he said, "I'm aware of that."

  Daniel barely managed to hide his surprise at Jennsen's capitulation. He wanted to ask Jennsen how he knew-right after he planted the bastard a facer-but thought better of it. It didn't matter how he knew so long as he knew. A bit of the tension eased from his shoulders.

  "Nor, as it happens," Jennsen continued, "is she my choice."

  Another layer of tension dissipated. "Excellent."

  "But know-the only reason I told you is because I've no wish to cause Carolyn any difficulties." His gaze flicked over Daniel. "If she had to choose someone else, I'm glad it's you."

  "And why is that?"

  "Because it's very clear you care for her. And she deserves to be cared for."

  Daniel kept his expression impassive, but only with an effort. Bloody hell, first Matthew, now Jennsen. When had he become so transparent? Well, of course he cared for her. He'd desired her since the first moment he saw her. And even though Jennsen's assessment vaguely annoyed him, he appreciated the man's honesty. In fact it occurred to him that so long as Jennsen stayed away from Carolyn, he could possibly, maybe, perhaps, someday actually come to like the man. Just a little.

  He cleared his throat. "As for you finding the right woman, Jennsen, for all your disparaging remarks about us aristocrats, I wager you'll fall arse over heels for an English girl." A laugh escaped him. "Oh, the irony of that."

  Jennsen made a scoffing sound. "If I do, you can bet your arse she won't be some nose-in-the-air Society chit. I'd rather marry a barmaid."

  "And yet at Matthew's house party you cast your eye upon Lady Wingate's sister, and then toward Lady Wingate."

  "Neither of whom were 'to the manor born.'"

  Daniel pondered for several seconds then asked, "Care to make it interesting?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "I've fifty pounds that says you'll fall in love with a Society chit."

  "Done," said Jennsen without an instant's hesitation. "Easiest fifty pounds I'll ever earn. Care to make it even more interesting?"

  "You'd prefer to lose one hundred pounds?"

  "Oh, I have no intention of losing. I meant another fifty-pound wager. That you, too, will fall in love with a Society chit."

  Daniel inwardly chuckled. Since he'd already made nearly the identical bet with Matthew, why not collect twice? Jennsen had no way of knowing that having reached the age of three and thirty without falling prey to the manacles of love, he was obviously quite impervious. While Carolyn might have managed to steal a tiny piece of his previously untouched heart, that hardly meant she owned it all. Or that he'd allow himself to get leg-shackled. His heart, as always, remained his-albeit with the minuscule nick currently in it.

  "Agreed." He smiled and rubbed his hands together. "I'm going to enjoy relieving you of your hundred pounds, Jennsen."

  Jennsen chuckled and shook his head. "You'll never see it. There will be no Society chit for me, and your neck is already in the noose, Surbrooke, with the hangman's hand on the trapdoor lever. But still, I wish you luck." Still chuckling, Jennsen walked away, disappearing into the drawing room.

  Annoyed yet not quite certain way, Daniel looked through the French doors into the drawing room. His gaze found Carolyn, and as if she felt the weight of his stare, she turned toward him. Their gazes met through the glass, and it felt as if the flagstones beneath his feet shifted.

  Both Matthew and Jennsen had wished him luck, and he suddenly didn't doubt that he'd need it.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I had only one steadfast rule regarding my affairs, and I was extremely careful not to break it: I never allowed my h
eart to become involved. For to do so would only bring pain and misery, and I wanted none of that.

  Memoirs of a Mistress by An Anonymous Lady

  Dressed in an ice blue, lace trimmed negligee and matching robe, Carolyn paced the confines of her foyer. She paused to glance at the clock on the corner table. Just past two a.m. She'd last seen Daniel an hour earlier in Lord Exbury's foyer as she'd departed the soiree. I'll see you very soon, he'd murmured. Before she could ask him to clarify what "very soon" meant, he'd vanished into the crowd.

  Hopeful that he meant later that night, she'd sent Nelson off to bed as soon as she arrived home, raced up to her bedchamber and changed into her finest negligee. For the past half hour she'd kept up her vigil in the foyer, praying for the front gate bell to jingle, indicating he'd come.

  She pressed her hands to her midriff to calm her inner flutters, and anticipation quickened her breathing, the same sense of expectation that had heightened her senses all evening. She'd spent very little actual time with Daniel at the Exbury soiree. They'd shared one waltz, during which she'd barely been able to speak, what with the inferno consuming her as he'd undressed her with his eyes. Indeed, about all she'd managed was to ask him if he'd received her gift. His eyes had blazed and he answered yes. And then he spoke the words that had whispered through her brain the rest of the evening: I want to give you all that, Carolyn. And more.

  After that, they'd had only a brief conversation, and numerous glances across the room, ending with his cryptic, I'll see you very soon.

  Yet their lack of actual contact had only served to elevate her yearning for him. She'd been painfully aware of Daniel every second, barely able to concentrate on anything or anyone other than him. And found herself more than a little jealous every time a woman claimed his attention. Lady Walsh, Lady Balsam, and Lady Margate-all beautiful women.