The Secret Love of a Gentleman

by Jane Lark

  “You need not,” she said in return, her body satisfied and her heart full. “Tell me about your hopes in politics…”

  “My hopes…” He laughed.

  “Yes. You said you had a plan. Tell me about it…”

  “I wish to make a difference in the world. To be influential. I want to speak out for the working class. For those who need a voice but have no power to speak in Parliament. They have no right to vote. They need a voice.”

  It was such a Rob-like statement, she smiled to herself.

  He rolled towards her, looking at her, and his fingers ran across her cheek before he tucked the strands of her hair behind her ear. “There are numerous women who live in poverty and are forced to do things which they do not wish to do. I would free them from that life if I can. And I wish to free men from being controlled by their employers’ greed. I wish to force employers into paying a fair wage. The current system favours the wealthy too much. They are allowed, within the law, to grind those who earn them their money into the ground. It is not right.”

  Respect and admiration swelled inside Caro, as Rob rolled to lie on his back. She turned to rest her head on his chest. “I am glad someone like you wishes to give them a voice. It will be a good voice. You are a man of compassion.”

  Albert sat in the House of Lords. She had heard him practise his speeches—he’d only ever spoken for the bills that made the rich, richer, and the landowners more secure.

  Rob was so different. He cared not only about her, but for right and goodness. He was a good man. And she had feared he would forget her before coming to town, that had been folly, a foolish construction created by the history of her past. Rob was a good man who would not treat her lightly—her heart and head must learn that he was not Albert.

  “My family would call it idealism, not compassion.” He laughed slightly as his hand lifted and tucked behind his head. “But perhaps it is idealism. I had not realised how much money I will need to achieve this dream of speaking for the poor. Which in itself makes the whole thing a farce.”

  “Your brother—”

  “Do not say it.” His hand slipped from beneath his head and rested on her hair. “How may I speak for the working class if I am living off my family? Yes, and before you say this too, I know a dozen others do it, but I am not them.”

  “No,” Caro rolled onto her stomach, her fingers pressing onto his chest as she met his gaze. “You are not like them, you are passionate and compassionate and I love you.”

  ~

  The clock in the other room chimed four.

  Caro brushed a hand across Rob’s shoulder to wake him. They had lain in bed all afternoon, and they had made love twice, on the second occasion she’d touched him and aroused him once more, then used her mouth and ridden him, sitting astride his hips and watching the adoration in his eyes as his palms had lain on her thighs, his thumbs brushing over the inner surface.

  But now it was time to go back.

  “It is four, Rob.”

  His dark-grey eyes opened and looked at her. He smiled. “Sorry, I have so little time to spend with you and I fall asleep.”

  “I fell asleep too.” It was the first time she’d slept deeply for days.

  His fingers brushed her cheek. “But now I must give you up again. At least I think the dark circles that were beneath your eyes when I picked you up have gone.”

  “You have a way with compliments, Rob Marlow.” She turned and began to rise, feeling him move, rolling to his side.

  She looked back to see he’d rested his head on a palm, while the sheet settled low over his hip. The athletic definition of his torso was visible. It had been visible to her throughout their love- making, along with the dark dusting of hair across the centre of his chest.

  “You are beautiful, you know you are, you do not need my compliments, but if you wish for them, then what I notice more is your eyes when they turn gold in the sunlight.”

  She did not know what to say, the look in his eyes said hers were gold now. What she saw in his was adulation.

  She rose and picked up her chemise from the floor.

  “Caro.” He stood behind her. His hands gripped her waist and pulled her back against him. Then he spoke into her hair. “I wish us to be married. I have nothing to offer you yet, but I wish it so, as soon as it can be. As soon as we do not need to rely on John or Papa.”

  The words slid through her soul. She wished for it too.

  He kissed her earlobe. “But I do not want to say anything to anyone yet. Let us hold this as our secret. If my family know, then they will prevent us from escaping like this. We will act as friends before them, and be lovers when we are alone.”

  She nodded. She understood. She hoped for a future, yet what she valued most were these moments with him.

  “Yes.” She turned and kissed his lips briefly, then pulled free and bent to pick up her drawers and her stockings, then she began to dress.

  He turned away to dress too. “I will call more, though. After yesterday I do not want to leave you facing any of those harpies alone.”

  Chapter 24

  Rob slept well, the scents of sex and Caro seeping from his sheets into his soul. He was in love and as much of a slave to sex as Harry. The euphoria of release still glowed within his muscles and echoed through his nerves. He had not found the route to fulfil the plan he’d mapped out for his life before the summer and yet he’d found one constant for his life. Caro.

  They would be wed, and until then he would have moments such as yesterday to hold close.

  But he must strive harder to find the living that would enable him to take up a seat in the House of Commons. He could not endure being beholden to John for much longer, and he needed to support Caro.

  In the afternoon, he sat in his brother’s drawing room and wished the day were yesterday, when he and Caro had been in his bed. Instead he listened to the droning conversation of numerous female callers, all of whom ogled poor Caro.

  He knew none of them, but when he was introduced he paid attention to their names. He would need allies at this level of society to achieve the political career he wished for; once he had his seat any bills he presented must be supported by others to win a vote, and some wives were able to influence their husbands. He did not attempt to participate in the inane conversation about frippery and fanciful ideas, though, he left that to Mary, Kate and Drew to manage, while he sat in silence trying to solve the puzzle of his life—how to earn a living to enable him to do what he wished.

  But his reluctant brain refused to be led, and instead focused on images from the summer. The feel of Caro’s hand about his as they’d ascended the stairs to that assembly hall. Their first kiss in that dark churchyard.

  Sighing he uncrossed his legs, shifted in the chair and crossed them again in the opposite direction.

  An image of Caro, damp and half naked, hovered in his head.

  She glanced across at him as she spoke to someone near where he sat. These women would think him churlish, but for the moment he did not care. Let them think as they wished. She had come to town for him, and he was here for her. They both only endured these people so they might sit in the same room, with their desire unnoticed.

  “Tea, Rob.” Mary held a cup out to him. “You look bored. I’m surprised you came today.”

  He smiled at her, then noticed John walking across the room. He’d not even seen his brother come in. John took a seat beside Rob, once everyone in the room had ceased bowing and scraping, and leaned on the arm of his chair. “I would have thought you’d have better things to do than this, especially as you spent yesterday alone with the women. Were there no trips to look over horses, or some sporting activity to entertain you?”

  “Were they the sort of pursuits you followed when you were on your grand tour?”

  Mary walked away, leaving them to talk. It was very rarely that he spoke to John alone.

  “No, I had one pursuit at your age, women. But I know you have far more self-r
estraint than I.”

  I did. “Unlike Harry,” he responded with the words John would expect him to say.

  “Quite. But perhaps I was as bad as Harry, in my way. My first paramour was Caroline and Drew’s elder sister.”

  The fact punched Rob in the gut. He had not known that. “Lady Ponsonby…”

  “She has not made a play for you?”

  “God no.” Rob shook his head, wondering why the hell John was speaking to him of such things.

  “She likes young men. In fact she has a passion for them, but only while they are young. In my innocence, I fell for her charm. It took me until I met Katherine to realise that it had never been true affection, merely a craving for the wares she traded in. Like wine and the throw of a dice, sex is a drug of sorts, and women tempt you and then they trap you. You are right to avoid such things. I admire your discipline, but I would keep on your guard now you are in town.”

  Rob smiled, closed-lipped, trying not to let John see how untimely his warning was. He was no longer innocent, nor self-righteous and he liked the new drug he’d discovered. Even now their encounter yesterday warmed his blood, as though the ashes still glowed.

  “So, what have you been up to? Do you need your time filled? I could put some work your way.”

  Rob sipped his tea.

  When John had first come back from abroad, before he’d married Kate, he’d taken Rob to Tattersall’s with him to buy his first horses and a carriage. Rob had been thrilled to acquire his older brother’s attention. Now he did not particularly care for it. “Thank you, but no thank you. I appreciated you letting me sit with Phillip, but I want to forge my own path, when I decide what it is I want to do.”

  “That is understandable, Rob, and admirable. I am only glad the income I give you is allowing you the time to consider your choice.”

  A bitter taste burned the back of Rob’s throat.

  John’s smile suddenly twisted sideways. “Do I annoy you with my largesse?”

  Rob smiled too, ignoring the discomfort and taking his brother’s gestures for what they were—kindness. “A little, I admit. There is no fulfilment in living on your charity.” Especially when I wish to help those who have no rich relatives to turn to. I would prefer not to make myself a hypocrite.

  “You wish to be independent. I appreciate that. But all I’ve given you is a foothold, Rob. Accept it for what it is, a gift. I have no intention of undermining you. I merely wish to see you, and the others, share in my wealth. You are my brother. Drew has made himself on the sum from Mary’s dowry. He purchased his property with it, but it is he who manages his estate and has achieved the profits. He was not too proud to take it. Do you think him a lesser man?”

  Rob turned towards John. Of course he did not.

  “I know you do not. So why do you think yourself a lesser man because you live on my money. Did you know your papa’s property was bought with Mama’s dowry?”

  Rob shook his head.

  “It is no sin, Rob.”

  “I mean no insult to you, it is just…” He did not wish to upset John, but nor did he wish to speak of his aims yet. He would speak at the time he knew how to achieve them without John’s help.

  “I am not insulted. I can imagine how difficult it must be to carve your own path in the world behind a brother who is a duke. But you will find your way. Simply use what I give you to help you achieve it.”

  “I do not mean to seem ungrateful.”

  “I was your age once. I do know the need to be your own man. Why do you think I spent so long abroad? Had I come home Grandpapa would have had his hooks in me. However, I still lived on the allowance he provided, and I was not ashamed to do so.”

  “Are you telling me to stop sulking?”

  John laughed, “Perhaps. Was that all I needed to say?”

  “I was not sulking. I was thinking. I am still considering my profession.”

  “Very well, keep thinking. But while you do, give yourself permission to be young. You are far too sober at times. I know you well enough to know you have a vision for yourself, with some high ideal you wish to aim for, and neither Papa nor I wish to pin you down. All we wish for is to see you content.”

  “Your Grace. Lady Newbury.”

  John looked away and stood as another visitor was shown into the room. Of course it was up to John to help Kate welcome their new guest.

  But John’s discussion on the subject was not over.

  Rob travelled with the others to his Aunt Penny’s and Uncle Richard’s for an extended family dinner, and at the table the subject of conversation turned to, “What might Rob do?” He was not even sure who began it, but every gentleman about him at his aunt’s table had something to say, hurling suggestions into the mix.

  Rob was not impressed. If they wished to interfere, he would rather avoid his family. His innards twisted with embarrassment. He knew what he wished to do, but his cousins were at the table, so he would certainly not speak about it here.

  He was sure colour burned in his cheeks.

  He did not look at Caro as the conversation progressed, but kept his gaze on his glass of wine, or his plate, despite the fact that he sensed her gaze rest on him. He was glad he had failed to secure her a place at his side. He’d escorted one of his younger female cousins in to dine, having been in the wrong place at the moment supper was announced.

  Rob felt his blush intensify when his cousin Gregory commented. Gregory was the Earl of Preston’s heir. He was a year older than Rob. Then Frederick, the heir to the Duke of Bradford, said something else and laughed. Frederick, another of his cousins, was six months Rob’s senior.

  They had never been close to Rob, they were closer to riotous and outrageous Harry. Rob had actively avoided them at Eton and then at Oxford.

  It was not amusing to have his life discussed by them.

  “We are heading out to the clubs after dinner, Rob, for a game of Farrow. Join us. Then you could leave what to do to chance…” Greg called from along the table, then laughed.

  “You were always too much of a prude at school.” Fred added to the conversation, descending into the open digs Rob was used to from them. He’d heard enough of them in his school years, but not before the rest of his family, and not before Caro.

  They lived off their fathers and they were the exact example of why he did not wish to live off John, and why he wished to be far more than like them.

  He would prefer to be a prude and have morals and ideals than live as they did. “Thank you, but no.” Others were having conversations about the table; Rob’s words cut over them.

  “I spent most of my time at the races when I was your age. That is what led me into breeding horses,” Forth, his father’s close friend, stated. He was seated across the table, beside Caro. Rob glanced at him, avoiding looking at her.

  “Have you thought of breeding horses?” Rob’s uncle Richard suggested from the head of the table, highlighting that the conversation now included everyone.

  Rob wished to rise and throw his napkin down, and thank them all for their interest, but then tell them to mind their own damned affairs. “Forth says I do not have the right eye.” God, he was glad his father was not here to add another voice to this condescending crowd, he had persistently been inquiring after Rob’s intent in letters. Yet it certainly gave Rob no desire to speak of his true intent, else that would be picked to pieces too.

  “I did not say that,” Forth denied. “I did say you do not have an eye for picking race horses, the mares you selected would have done well enough if you were looking for working stock. In fact they would have been an excellent choice.”

  Drew lifted his hand. “I am going to a market in Spitalfields in a couple of days, Rob. You may come with me and test your eye again.”

  The look Drew threw Rob, said, “say yes and we will shut them up”.

  “Thank you, Drew. Yes. I accept.” Rob’s pitch was blunt, and it said stop, enough, and if they did not hear it they were fools.


  Greg smiled before lifting his glass. Rob wondered if he or Fred had begun the conversation for their amusement, at his expense. It meant it was not only John who’d noticed his dislike of being kept. The thought itched. He did not wish to be judged against others in his family. What he wished to do, he wished to do for others who did not have the opportunities his family were born to. Let those people judge him.

  He sighed and reached for his glass.

  ~

  Rob’s cousin Gregory escorted Caro into the drawing room after dinner. The gentlemen had decided to drink their port among the women, rather than exclude them.

  Gregory was brash and bold and laughed easily, at his own humour. He was the complete opposite of Rob, who’d spent the entire evening looking uncomfortable and willing himself into the background. She had not noticed that in the summer, before he’d stayed at Mary and Drew’s, but among his family, he was more silent in nature, and he did not overly engage with them.

  She did not have to endure Gregory’s company for long. As soon as they entered the drawing room, he made his excuses and then he and another of Rob’s cousins left.

  “Caro, will you be my partner for a game of whist?” Mary called.

  Caro agreed as the party broke into small groups. Some stood talking in huddles and someone played the pianoforte, while other young women gathered about it, and there were three tables that developed into card games. But as Mary dealt, Caro noticed that Rob had not joined a group. He stood on his own, his buttocks leaning against a mahogany chest, as he cradled a glass of port in one hand.

  He looked as though he was brooding. He’d been impatient with the conversation about him at the table, and she wondered if that was the cause. Yet even in the carriage he’d been quieter, and this afternoon she’d seen him talking to his brother, while a frown had played on his brow.

  With Mary and Drew, he was happy and talkative, but amongst the rest of his family, including John, his confidence seemed to ebb.

  She played half a dozen rounds with Mary, and they won four of them, but then she bowed out. “I need the retiring room, forgive me.” She rose as Mary called for one of her cousins to play in Caro’s stead.