The Secret Love of a Gentleman

by Jane Lark

  “Rob, I cannot—”

  “She is living. You said you did not tell me about her because you wished to enjoy her life for as long as it lasted. Well, she is still alive, and if we do not know how long for, then let us give her a name now. What will we call her?”

  Caro squeezed his hand. He always knew what to say. “Sarah. It was the name of a nursery maid we had when I was a child. She was the only one who was nice to me when I was young.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “The Marquis saw her paying more attention to me than my elder sister, Elizabeth. Sarah was dismissed.”

  “Life has been cruel to you.”

  “No. Not now, and not then. I had Drew, and now I have you.”

  “Yes, you do have me, Mrs Marlow, and you must endure me at your side forever more, till death do us part… and that will likely be a very long time away as I am so young.” His fingers played with the ring on her finger as he spoke, twisting it around and around.

  “You are foolish.”

  “So my father has just been telling me. That was why I took so long.” He smiled, but sadness hovered in his eyes. He was afraid for Sarah too. “But I will ask your forgiveness now, Caro, because you may become bored of me. I am not a man who will look for wildness or seek out constant things to stimulate life.”

  “You are not forgiven. I am not looking for a man like that. I would not like him. I will love the man I have married, who has high morals and will dedicate himself to changing this country’s laws for the better, and I will be proud of him. But I will ask forgiveness of you now, because I am afraid I will be boring and age too quickly, and you will grow tired of seeing my face and hearing me speak of mundane things.”

  His eyebrows lifted and his eyes widened. “You are not forgiven, Caro, I cannot forgive you that. You will always be loved. I shall always look forward to being greeted by your smile when I wake or return home, and to listen to you speak with me in the evening when we are sitting in our chairs, by the fire, an old, tottering couple, who have loved each other their whole lives.”

  “And now you have made me cry. You are not supposed to make me cry on our wedding day.”

  “No. I am sorry.”

  He leaned further forward, and she whispered over his lips before he kissed her, “You are forgiven.”

  Chapter 50

  Caro reached across the carriage and touched Rob’s knee. “I am still bleeding.”

  He sat up and gripped her hand. He was drifting into sleep. They were on the edge of the city.

  He looked at her dress. She knew they were only tiny spots, but the blood scared her.

  “Do not worry we will stop.”

  He turned to open the hatch and tell their driver to stop at the next inn.

  They stopped at the Red Dragon, barely outside of London, and Rob sent a groom riding back into the city for the doctor. He arrived an hour later.

  “You are married?” the doctor stated impudently as he glanced at Rob when he entered the room.

  “We are married, but we ceased our journey because my wife suffered more bleeding and so we did not wish to go on without your reassurance.”

  “I told her to rest.”

  Caro was lying on the bed in a room in the inn. She felt very tired, but there had only been spots of blood. “I walked up the aisle, that was all.”

  “And also stood to receive our guests.”

  “I could hardly lie down to do that.”

  “And travelled in a rocking carriage…” The doctor stepped forward. “Will you lift your dress and I shall listen for the heartbeat and then we may see what ill has been done.”

  Caroline’s heart raced, and her gaze met Rob’s. He leant to help her raise her dress. There was a very definite outward curve. His fingers brushed over her skin for a moment. It was the first time he’d seen it.

  This was not what he ought to be doing on his wedding night, unclothing her before the audience of a doctor.

  Regret whispered in the air when Rob undid the ribbon securing her drawers and slid them below the curve of her stomach. She was afraid, and yet she felt guilty because this was not how a wedding celebration ought to be.

  The doctor pressed her stomach gently. “Your little one has just kicked me, so I am fairly certain the babe is determined to remain within. But let me check for the heartbeat to ensure all is secure.”

  Caro reached out for Rob’s hand. “I felt her.”

  Rob smiled as the doctor pressed the funnel end of the cold instrument to her stomach. He slid it around a little, and then said on a low breath, “Yes. I have it. The heartbeat is swift and sure.”

  “May I listen?” Rob moved about the bed as though, if the doctor said no, he would insist.

  “Here.” The doctor straightened up and held the horn as Rob leant down. Rob’s free hand touched the first curve of her stomach.

  When he straightened up, moisture glittered in his eyes. “I have heard her heart beating.”

  Caro wished that she could.

  “The child is healthy, but there is still a high risk of infection, and for the child to be lost.” He’d looked at Rob, but then he looked at Caro. She brushed her dress back over her stomach. “You must be careful and continue to rest, and I am afraid you must do so for the rest of your term.”

  “I shall ensure it,” Rob stated. “But might I buy that thing off you, and then I may listen for the heart if we are afraid. We intend to continue our journey in short stages.”

  The doctor made an irritated sound, but he handed it over.

  The man was so superior, she was glad she would not continue in his care.

  “I shall walk downstairs with you,” Rob said.

  Rob was gone for ten minutes. Caro rolled to her side and curled up a little. Sarah was still within her, her little heart still beating, and her legs and arms thrusting out.

  When Rob came back it was with bread, creamy butter, cheese and tankards of ale.

  “How are my girls?”

  “Happy and hungry. Fresh bread has never smelled so nice.”

  “Sit up a little.” He set the tray he held down, and then came to put the pillows behind her back. Then he filled a plate for her and set it on her lap.

  “Thank you.”

  “You are welcome. But Caro, when you showed your stomach… There is a large dark bruise at your hip. How—”

  “It is where I fell. My hip struck the stairs when I lost my balance, when Albert came at me and George.”

  Rob sighed, his eyes telling her there was anger and grief in his heart. “I am glad of everything I have done today.”

  She held his hand. “I am glad we are married too, but I am sorry, this cannot be the wedding night you hoped for.”

  “No, but it is ours, and I am a patient man. Sarah and you are precious. You are what is important. I would not be selfish.”

  He took off his morning coat, then slipped off his shoes and filled a plate for himself before walking about the bed to sit beside her.

  “I am sorry this is not the wedding night you would have wished for,” he said, smiling.

  She had thought her first wedding night heaven, then it had tumbled into hell. “I am happy just to be alone with you.”

  “And Sarah.”

  “And Sarah.” She smiled.

  After they’d eaten, Rob took her plate and called for a maid to come and clear away. Then Rob helped Caro undress and change into a nightdress, before undressing himself, down to only his underwear. Then he blew out the candles and slipped beneath the covers with her, in the dark.

  His hand lay on her stomach for a moment, before he moved closer and kissed her. Warmth and desire flooded into her blood, though her desire would be redundant.

  Her tongue danced about his, and her fingers combed into his hair. “You have a scar.” It had been beneath his fringe.

  “From when I fell from my carriage.”

  She kissed him again.

  He broke the kiss after a
while and rested his forehead against hers. “You ought to sleep. You were tired.”

  She nodded and when he rolled to his back, she rested her head on his shoulder.

  Their wedding day resembled their entire journey north, it was slow and nerve-wracking and then at night it was quiet in whatever inn they found, and she lay with him, kissing him before she slept.

  They reached their new home a week later than they had planned.

  “I believe this is it,” Rob stated, when they turned off the road.

  “You have not seen the house…” Caro looked at him.

  She was sitting up against pillows, and she could look through the far carriage window easily, but to see out of the one beside her she had to twist around. “Oh!” She turned a little more as a charming large red-brick house came into view. It had six sash windows along each floor, and there were two floors, and then attic rooms, and the portico was a half circle with two pillars supporting a decorated roof, where a cherub aimed a bow at them. “It is beautiful.”

  “It is,” Rob confirmed, his hand reaching out to take hers.

  This was their new home.

  The carriage halted and people began appearing. A young man hurried to open the door as Beth came from the house. She had come up here to take on the role of housekeeper as soon as Caro had asked. She was smiling broadly, as though she loved her new post and their new home too. A tall, stiff middle-aged man walked beside her.

  Another man, a groom, walked from about the side of the house.

  “Sir, madam, welcome.” Beth curtseyed, as Caro lay like the Queen of Sheba on her pillows. “We have been keeping an eye out for your arrival,” Beth stated as Rob climbed down. “This is Mr Birch, he is your butler, and Mr Brown, the head groom.” They bowed to Rob.

  “It is good to meet you,” Rob said, before turning back to Caro. “I will carry you.”

  He had been carrying her in and out of inns for a week, and his leg had become stronger because of it. She wrapped her arms about his neck and hung on, and so they crossed the threshold into their home.

  It was a sunny house, two of the huge windows opened into the large, square hall, where the servants stood in two lines, and Caro could see into a large room on either side of the hall. A dining room and a drawing room, and there were two more doors and two more rooms at the back.

  “This is Jenny, Mary, Polly…” Beth introduced the two lines of servants, the women on the left and the men on the right. But Caro felt too silly being carried throughout the introductions, it distracted her mind, and she could not remember their names.

  “Would you rather recline on a sofa downstairs or go up to our room,” Rob asked when the introductions were done.

  “May we go upstairs? I am tired.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “All is ready. Polly will you show Mr and Mrs Marlow upstairs?” Beth said.

  “Thank you, Beth.” Caro gave her a smile.

  “The house is beautiful. I am so happy, Rob,” her fingers stroked the back of his hair.

  He smiled. “I am happy too.”

  “Beth, please would you have some lemonade brought to the room and if you have any biscuits…” Caro called across his shoulder as he began walking upstairs.

  “Freshly baked this morning, ma’am.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Oh, the room is lovely,” Caro exclaimed when Polly led Rob into their bedchamber. Another two large windows shone light into it, and though it might not be a suite of rooms as she had known at Albert’s and Drew’s, it was a large room with two chairs and a chaise longue by the fire, and then a large four-poster bed in bright-orange toned, glossy wood.

  “I had not expected the furniture to look this fine. I think your housekeeper has done a remarkable job of freeing everything from its covers and sprucing it up.”

  A knock struck the door. Another maid stood there with a tray bearing lemonade and biscuits. Jenny… Caro must learn their names.

  “Where do you wish to sit?”

  “In that chair before the window. Oh, look at the view! You can see some sort of ruins beyond the trees.”

  “It was an ancient abbey. The ruins are right on the border of my uncle’s land.”

  “This is so perfect, Rob, I had not imagined it would be beautiful. We will be so happy here.”

  “Yes, we will.”

  He sat next to her and looked out through the window, as the maid poured their lemonade. Then she left them, closing the door. He was so strikingly handsome. Her husband would be her favourite view.

  Yes, she would be happy.

  Once he’d finished her lemonade and eaten three of the mouth-watering biscuits, she said quietly. “Tell the servants we will have a late supper and then let us lie down for a while.” She was still hungry. She was craving. They had merely kissed ever since their wedding night and nothing more, because they’d been wary of the child, but she had not bled for almost a week.

  He crossed the room and did not ring the bell but went downstairs.

  Caro stood and looked from the window down onto flowerbeds full of shooting bulbs. It was spring, and her life felt like it had a new spring season too.

  She walked to the edge of the bed and sat down, then released the first few buttons of her bodice.

  Rob came back into the room and shut the door. “I have said we will eat at nine, but informally here. What are you doing? You should not be upright.”

  “I have only walked a few paces.”

  “It was only a few paces along the aisle.”

  “Will you help me undress, so I might be more comfortable?”

  “Yes.” He gave her a twisted smile.

  “And will you lie down with me?”

  “If you wish me to.”

  “I wish it.” Her voice was breathless as his fingers released more of the buttons over her breasts, then slipped her bodice from her shoulders.

  She lifted her bottom, and let him slide her dress down her body. Then she let her shoes fall off her feet before lying down.

  He slipped off his shoes and removed his morning coat, then lay down beside her, one elbow bent as his palm supported his head.

  He smiled at her as his hand ran over the rapidly increasing bulge of her stomach to caress Sarah. “Your figure is beautiful like this.” He looked down as Caro felt a jolt. “She kicked.”

  “Her movements are becoming stronger.”

  Rob leant and kissed Caro. Then he rolled backwards onto the bed with a sigh, his palm resting behind his head as his other hand settled on his flat stomach.

  She turned to her side and looked at him in profile. The determination, strength and independence he so prized were evident in his features, and yet when he looked at her, he was all gentleness and warmth. Her fingertips ran down his chest to his stomach, over his waistcoat and the front of his trousers, then back up. She ran them down and up again.

  He smiled at her. The sunlight poured into the room, illuminating him, like some Greek god. Her fingertips played over the material of his trousers, touching him, as he stirred within.

  She held his gaze. He said nothing. Nor did she.

  Her fingers traced the path of his arousal as it grew, up and down, just gently running over the cloth which covered it. He must ache for this. He’d said he could wait, and yet it was only natural for a man to ache for a physical bond.

  She ached too. The need was a pain in her palms and a dense desire between her legs.

  Her fingers lifted and began freeing the buttons of his waistcoat.

  His hand gripped hers, stopping her, “Caro… think of—”

  “That is not what I intend. We need not have intercourse. Trust me and relax.”

  He shook his head, but let her hand go. She undid the buttons of his waistcoat then urged him to take it off.

  When he lay back down she pulled his shirt free from his trousers and undid the buttons of his flap as they kissed.

  His desire aimed like a spear; desperate to be
known again. They had not touched each other like this since the end of September.

  His hand gripped in her hair as his tongue pressed into her mouth with a growing hunger.

  Of course he ached for this. She ran the heel of her palm down his length, pressing against the firm skin. She loved him.

  He rolled over her a little so she lay on her back, and then one of his hands gripped her breast over the cloth of her chemise. It was fuller, already preparing to feed their child and it hurt as he gripped it, but in a delicious way.

  Her fingers caressed him, in an upward motion, then slid down. She repeated the movement continuously, while his tongue pressed in and withdrew from her mouth and his fingers kneaded her breast.

  His breathing became faster, and the motion of her hand was not hers but his as his hips lifted, then pressed down into the mattress, so he ran himself through her fingers.

  When he broke, a cry of triumph and gratitude escaped his throat as he spilled onto his shirt.

  She smiled as he sighed out a, “thank you,” into the air.

  “You may return the favour…” she whispered in a husky voice.

  “How?”

  “With your mouth, I do not think it would harm with your mouth.”

  He gave her a devil’s grin that was unlike Rob. “Your wish is my command, Mrs Marlow.”

  He rolled over, moved between her legs and stripped off her underwear. Then his hands gripped her thighs and pulled them wider.

  He kissed her rounded stomach first, then kissed her inner thighs one at a time. Then his thumbs ran over her, one after the other, in a mesmerising rhythm, without trying to invade her. She would not wish him to take the risk and he did not.

  She breathed hard, her arms reaching above her head and holding the pillow as his thumb began circling over her most sensitive spot, spreading moisture there. He kissed her lower lips, then his tongue tasted.

  Her arms fell and she gripped his hair as his thumb continued to tease, and his tongue played the same game it had done in her mouth, simulating the action of sex, slipping a little within her and then slipping out.

  Oh, she’d ached for this too, longed for it and she had not even known how much.