The Secret Love of a Gentleman

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The Secret Love of a Gentleman Page 21

by Jane Lark


  She had been surprised, though, when she’d not thought of it last night, nor of Albert. She’d expected to lie awake thinking of him, but instead she’d fallen asleep remembering her waltz with Rob, and during the day all she thought of was that tomorrow he’d said he would call early and then ask her to drive out with him.

  She nodded as people spoke, and asked polite questions. But her thoughts were not in the room with them. Not because she was anxious at all, simply because she did not care that they were here. Few of the callers stayed longer than half an hour, and she was never in the room without Mary and Kate, and so the day was entirely bearable, yet exhausting.

  When the clock chimed four, the last caller left and Caro fell back in the armchair, sighing.

  Mary laughed.

  Caro smiled at her. “May I cry off this evening?” The family were going to a musical evening. Rob would not be there and so there was no need for her to go. “After today I would rather stay here, if you do not mind?”

  Mary rose and crossed the room, then pressed a hand on Caro’s shoulder. “Why would we mind? Of course we do not. Remain here as you wish and rest.”

  “I shall retire now, then, if you will excuse me, Kate. May I take a simple supper in my rooms?” Caro stood.

  “Of course, Caroline.”

  ~

  Rob had slept restlessly. His friends had teased him in the evening, wondering over the cause of his absences when he’d said he would be busy all of the following day.

  “Is it a woman?” Tarquin had accused. “It is the only reason I imagine you might be drawn into ballrooms and drawing rooms.”

  “It is not,” Rob had denied. But perhaps his skin had coloured because his friends had captured the theme.

  “I think it is too,” Arthur agreed.

  “Who is it?” Stephen asked.

  “No one. There is no woman.” Thank God he’d been in Brooks’s and not White’s, where someone within his family might have heard.

  “I think he lies,” Patrick had teased. “You should be careful of this political reputation you wish to build if you are consorting with other men’s wives.”

  “If any of you spread such a stupid rumour…” A threat hung in his words, but that was so unlike him, in itself, it probably gave the depth of his emotion away, and confirmed their assumption that it was a woman who was pulling him away from progressing his plan.

  “Then he will take us down to Manton’s and put us at the end of the shooting range as targets,” Tarquin laughed.

  “Yet, I still think it true,” Thomas had thrown his t’pence in.

  Rob had made a face at him. “But it is not and so please do not repeat your foolish thoughts.” He had never lied in his life until he’d begun this thing with Caro. It was not only his plan her presence in London was leading astray, it was his morals too.

  Memories of the twice he’d lain with her whispered in his head.

  He had sinned with her in the summer, and he wished to commit sin with her again.

  He swallowed against a dry throat as he knocked on the door of John’s opulent town house. He would be alone with her today, he hoped, and he hoped they would have an opportunity to become intimate again.

  Finch opened the door. “Master Marlow.” He bowed.

  Rob walked in. “Is anyone free.”

  “Their Graces have just broken their fast. The Duke is in the library, sir, and Lord Framlington is out visiting, however the Duchess and Lady Framlington are in the drawing room.”

  He presumed Caro was too. “Thank you, Finch, I’ll show myself up.”

  He handed Finch his hat and gloves, then ran upstairs, taking the shallow stone steps two at a time, his heart thumping with an eagerness to see her.

  When he walked into the drawing room, before he even said good morning, he asked, “Where is Caro?”

  Mary stood up to greet him, smiling broadly. “She has not come down. She is not feeling well. I think things are taking a toll on her.”

  “We had a considerable number of callers yesterday. Or, rather, poor Caroline did and she chose to keep to her room last evening,” Kate clarified.

  “I cannot blame her, Rob, she spent the entire afternoon playing exhibit.”

  I should have been here. He wished to go to her room. The words hovered on his tongue, but of course he could not.

  Instead he walked forward and kissed Mary’s cheek, then Kate’s. “I called early so I might see the children.”

  Mary smiled, “I will call for them.” She crossed the room and pulled the bell rope, while Kate waved a hand encouraging him to sit.

  “We are planning an outing.” Kate sat forward in her chair. “Will you join us? We are asking all the family. We thought to take the children out somewhere and give them some space to run.”

  “When?”

  “In a fortnight, when Mama and Papa are in town,” Mary answered as she came to sit next to him on the sofa.

  “Rob.”

  He rose and turned as Caro walked into the room, his heart flooding with a violin tune. He crossed the room and clasped her hands. She had dark circles beneath her eyes and she looked pale. “Mary said you were not well.”

  “I was tired. I did not sleep. Forgive me for not coming down, Kate.”

  He remembered himself as she looked at Kate, and let Caro’s hands go.

  “I understand entirely,” Kate responded.

  “I was going to go up and visit the children, but then I heard Rob arrive.”

  She’d come down to see him, then.

  He returned to his seat, as she sat in an armchair near Kate.

  “I have called to see the children.”

  She smiled at him.

  He felt awkward and tongue-tied suddenly.

  When the elder children were brought down from the nursery, George, Paul, and John’s second, David, who was the same age as George. They vied for Rob’s attention and so Rob let his concentration and energy be absorbed by them while the women talked and planned their family outing.

  John was still in his library when it came time to eat luncheon, and so they ate in the morning room with the children.

  As they finished, Rob looked at Caro. “You look as though you could do with some fresh air, Caro, and perhaps it may be an idea to escape the house before the calling hour. Why not come driving with me? We could go to the Tower. Have you been?”

  She was sitting at the table with George on her lap. She looked up. “No, I have never been.”

  “Well that’s it, then. We will go for a drive, in the opposite direction to Hyde Park, and ride out to the Tower and you will get some air and feel better.”

  A smile parted her lips slightly. “I would like that, thank you, Rob.”

  He looked at Mary. She was smiling at him too. She had seen nothing odd in his offer. “You do not mind if I steal her away for the afternoon?”

  “Not at all, it will be good for you, Caro. George, come here poppet.”

  “Go fetch your bonnet,” Rob nodded to Caro, meaningfully. “I’ll await you in the hall.”

  She handed George to Mary, then rose and smiled again before leaving the room.

  He said goodbye to the children, Mary and Kate, then left them and went downstairs.

  When he waited for a footman to fetch his hat and gloves, and for John’s grooms to bring his curricle around. He knocked on the library door.

  “Come,” John called in his ducal voice.

  Rob opened the door, but he did not step in. “I just thought I would say hello. I have been visiting the children, but I’m leaving now. I’m taking Caro out to escape the callers.”

  John lifted a hand and smiled. He was in a meeting with Phillip, Kate’s brother, John’s business man. “Hello and goodbye, then.”

  Rob smiled at John, then Phillip. “Yes. Goodbye.” He lifted a hand, then shut the door as Caro hurried downstairs.

  If anyone beyond the servants had seen her haste they would guess there was something between t
hem. Her smile was broad and excitement glittered in her eyes. She no longer looked tired. But John’s servants did not know Caro. They had barely seen her for years, they would not know the expression was unusual for her.

  She wore a moss-green pelisse and a matching broad-rimmed bonnet, with white rose buds decorating it and she also wore kid-leather gloves and a thin cream silk scarf.

  He smiled at her as Finch crossed to pass him his gloves and hat. “We will be a while. If anyone calls to speak to Lady Framlington let them know she is out for the afternoon.” He offered his arm to Caro, and then the door was opened and they were stepping out.

  He had her at last.

  His fingers pressed over hers as they lay on his arm, while jubilation skipped through his blood.

  He handed her up into his curricle as the grooms held the horses, then he walked about the far side and climbed up himself.

  When he took the reins he glanced at her. “I suppose this is nothing new to you. You must have ridden in Kilbride’s or Drew’s curricles.”

  “No, actually.” The sunlight caught in her eyes, making them gleam gold. “Never.”

  “This will be a treat, then. Except we cannot go particularly fast in London. I should have taken you out when I stayed at Drew’s; I could have shown you how fast my horses can fly.”

  “They may be fast, but I am sure they cannot fly.”

  “Very well, I admit they cannot, but it feels as though they can when you are going at a gallop and racing through the wind.”

  He flicked the reins, set the horses into a trot and once they were a distance from the grooms, he glanced at her. “Caro, we can go to the Tower if you like, or we can go to my apartment?” He could see nothing but the rim of her bonnet. “Caro…”

  Her head turned. “I have seen the Tower a dozen times, Rob.”

  “My apartment then…” God. His heart pumped with the power of a piston thrust. He drove through the back streets, avoiding the routes society preferred. They passed a couple of carriages, with occupants they might know, but her bonnet kept her hidden and he doubted anyone would be interested in who he had beside him. It was the rest of his family who were important. He was insignificant to the elite of London, a mere relation, unheard of as yet.

  When they reached the stables where he kept his curricle he slowed the horses to a walk, then halted them. He threw the ribbons to a groom when he jumped down, and walked about the curricle to help Caro descend. He did not take her hand, but gripped her waist.

  She kept her head lowered, demurely, keeping her face hidden within her bonnet.

  They walked out from the mews and crossed the street, holding hands.

  His apartment had a private staircase.

  When they reached the black-painted door, he took the key from his pocket. His hand shook as he turned it in the lock. He ought not to be doing this.

  She swept past him, her perfume hovering in the air. Lavender. He remembered the smell from their night in the dark. When he shut the door behind them and threw the bolt, she was running upstairs.

  He followed her, hurrying too, and at the top, as she stood before his door, he caught hold of her. She lifted her head at the same moment he lowered his, ducking beneath her bonnet. “You must accept my apology now,” he said over her lips, “for this and much more.”

  “You are forgiven.”

  When their lips met it was as though he had spent his last weeks in a desert and Caro was water, their mouths opened and their tongues danced. “I love you,” he said as he pulled away and opened the door to his rooms.

  She paid no attention to the small amount of purposeful furniture in his sitting room, but reached to his shoulders, urging him to remove his morning coat. He pulled the ribbons of her bonnet loose before he conceded, and then as she tugged at the knot of his cravat, he released the buttons at the front of her pelisse.

  When he was clothed in his shirt and his trousers only, and she in her dress, the buttons undone to her stomach, he gripped the back of her head and kissed her once more, pressing her back against the wall.

  Her lips were swollen and her pupils wide and bright when he let her go.

  She tipped her head back against the plaster and breathed in, as if she’d been dying of thirst too and sighed out her relief.

  “How are you, Caro? I have been in agony waiting to get you alone like this.” He slipped his fingers beneath the shoulders of her dress to take it off her.

  “I missed you yesterday.”

  Her dress fell to floor and she stepped out of it.

  “I know, Mary told me about your callers. I wish I had been there. I will be there tomorrow. Turn.”

  She turned her back so he might unlace her corset. “If you had been, you could not have helped, or held my hand as I wished.”

  “No, but I would have been in the room, and you would have known I was there.” She tipped her head back onto his shoulder as her corset fell to the floor.

  His hands crept over her stomach, running across the cotton of her chemise. Then he gripped her full breasts through the garment as he kissed her neck.

  She sighed into the air.

  They ought not to be here, and yet no one knew they were, it was as if they were not. They were in a secret world.

  He turned her and kissed her again, then held her hand and led her to his bedchamber. A single chest of drawers and a wardrobe stood against one wall, and the bed against another. She did not look at them, she looked at him.

  “Shall I light a fire?”

  “No, we will be warm enough beneath the covers.

  “Sit on the bed and I’ll take off your boots.” He unlaced her walking boots. Her feet were tiny and slender; they fit in the length of his hand. He stripped off her stockings too, rolling them down her pale legs. “Take off your chemise and your drawers and slip beneath the covers, while I take off my boots, before you become cold.”

  It was not yet winter, and odd days were still warm, but today was colder.

  He sat on the edge of the bed, yanking at his boots, watching her.

  She slid off her drawers first, beneath her chemise, but then she lifted that off. Her body was feminine curves and pale skin—beautiful. She lifted the covers and slid beneath, smiling at him.

  His boot dropped to the floor. He removed the other and then stood and stripped off his trousers, underwear and stockings. Then, finally, he lifted his shirt off over his head.

  When he joined her in the bed, his heart ran, pounding through his chest.

  He was to be intimate with her again, in daylight, when he might see her body. He’d thought he loved her before today, but today… it was amplified a dozen times.

  ~

  When Rob lifted the covers and lay beside her, Caro shivered. The sheets were cold. “Warm me up.”

  “Yes, m’lady.” He laughed against her neck as his hand ran over her hip, then upwards. He cupped her breast and kneaded it. She rolled to her back as his head lowered and, despite the cold, her arms lifted above the covers as he began to suck her breast. His mouth was warm.

  She clasped his shoulders and let every sensation seep into her blood.

  The bed smelt of him.

  She pressed her head back into the pillow.

  His teeth caught her nipple and bit gently. “Ah.”

  He laughed, but then he licked it, before kissing across her middle and over her stomach. She lay back and breathed slowly.

  Sunlight poured through the narrow window. It looked out across the street, but she could see the blue sky above the houses.

  His fingers touched between her legs.

  “Oh.”

  “I have dreamed of this so many times,” Rob whispered against her stomach, before he moved down the bed and she opened her legs for him and shut her eyes.

  “I have dreamed of it too.”

  He held her thighs gently as his lips, tongue and teeth caressed her.

  Her body arched against him. She was not cold any more. Her hips undulat
ed as he worked, and her mind was completely lost in the sensations of adoration. The amber cross on her necklace slid across her throat as she moved. She died her little death on his tongue, and felt her body fall into the soft bed that smelt of him.

  Then he was above her, looking down at her, his legs between hers and his body poised over hers. “Caro,” he said, in a voice of utter adoration. “I have wanted you constantly since you came to town.”

  Her fingers brushed his fringe from his brow. “You have me now.”

  “Yes.” He pressed into her, and she grasped his shoulders.

  It was paradise.

  Her breasts rocked with his movements, as he watched her body. It was their first time unclothed in the light.

  “I love you,” she said. He looked so young sometimes.

  His lips twisted when he looked up, and then, his palms pressing into the mattress beside her shoulders he moved more vigorously. She lifted her legs.

  His hips brushed against her inner thighs as he continued moving.

  She raised her arms and gripped the iron struts at the head of his bed.

  He moved more aggressively still. He had truly been longing for this.

  She bit her lip and shut her eyes, letting him invade her with as much force as he wished, but his roughness was still unlike Albert’s because if she looked into his eyes she would see the gentleness and emotion in Rob’s.

  He was looking down at where they joined, biting his upper lip, as he fought to avoid his release for as long as he might.

  No he was not Albert.

  “Oh.” A sensation caught inside her, as he struck the sensitive spot between her legs. “Yes, continue like that.” She said into the air, her body involuntarily arching. “Ah!” She cried out when she fell and the release rushed through her veins.

  He looked at her with a smile and moved more aggressively, seeking his own completion, but when it came he withdrew and let himself pulse across her stomach, the warm sticky liquid settling there, as a muscle flickered in his cheek.

  He’d had no need to be cautious, she could not carry children, and he knew that. It was another sign of his thoughtfulness.

  He rolled away, collapsing beside her. “My conscience knows I should not have let this begin, I have no life to offer you yet, but I cannot regret it.”

 

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