At one point he was vaguely aware that it was almost mid-morning, but as most of society did not rise at such an early hour, he was still relatively alone in the park. He wondered if Lady X rose early or slept late. He imagined late, given that most of her on-dits were surprisingly current, the events she wrote about usually occurring the previous evening. She must go home, write her column and then dash it off to her editor, he supposed. Meaning it was unlikely that she was awake at this hour. Unlike him. Were they that different or were they similar in some ways? She wrote as if she knew him, so he decided they must be similar in some manner. That thought cheered him for some odd reason.
He was so deep in thought that he almost did not see the woman on the path ahead of him, one who was walking far slower than he, until he almost stumbled into her and knocked her off her feet. It was only a quick arm beneath her elbow to steady her that prevented her from falling to the ground.
"Many pardons, my lady," he said as he bowed stiffly, his sliced-up leg not allowing him the full range of motion that he would have liked. Then the woman he still held in his arms looked up at him and he momentarily forgot all about his damaged leg. Or to breathe, for that matter. "Caroline?"
"Good morning, Lord Breckenright." She smiled at him warmly, but there was something off in her manner, as if he had offended her somehow. Which, given that this was the first time he had seen her since she had paid a call on Amy, wasn't very likely. Belatedly, he realized he had used her Christian name and that a maid trailed behind her. Damn. Perhaps that was the source of her irritation. He did not wish to disgrace her or appear overly familiar. He would not do so to any lady, but especially not Caroline.
Clearing his throat, Marcus finally remembered his manners. "Miss Turner. Er. Lady Caroline. I mean... It is a pleasure to see you this morning." More than he could say really. If there was any woman who haunted both his dreams and his waking thoughts more than Lady X, it was Lady Caroline. "My apologies for almost knocking you over. I was not watching where I was going. Very clumsy of me."
Lord, she was beautiful. Just as much now as when they had been younger. Yet Nicholas' warning rang in his head. She was not for him. He must keep his distance. Yet a brief stroll in the park would not do any harm. Would it? He could not see how.
Still, she did not say anything. Instead, she merely looked at him with those lovely eyes of hers, filled with so many different shades of green that a man could get lost in them. Not that he would, of course. That would be wrong. He had promised Rosemont. He would leave Caroline be. Except that he wanted her so damn much, the force of his desire slamming into him like a punch to the gut. In all this time, he had hoped it would fade - this unrelenting attraction. It hadn't. If anything, it was worse.
Marcus waited for her to berate him for something. Lord knew, he deserved it, whether it was for the incident just now or for not responding to her short missive welcoming him back to town after her visit with Amy. She had sent that message several weeks ago and he, idiot that he was, had been able to do nothing more than look at her small, delicate handwriting and wonder what those hands of hers would feel like on his body. On his bare back. On his chest. And lower. On his erect cock.
God above, it had been a long time since he had been with a woman.
Then as if she had just made up her mind, Caroline surprised him by gracing him with a sunny smile. "It is I who was at fault, my lord. I was woolgathering and not giving much thought to those around me. Do not give it another thought. I have already forgotten it." Then she inclined her head as if an idea had just occurred to her, though she did glance at her elbow where he still held her in his firm grip. "Since we are both going the same way, would you care to walk with me for a bit? It is a lovely morning, though a bit brisk for this time of year."
"Yes. Of course. I would be honored." Marcus wished he had a better tongue in his head as he offered her his arm, trying not to think about how good her small hand felt resting there. Once more, he remembered that he had promised Nicholas he would stay away from Caroline - for her own good of course. Yet this morning, when she was clad in such a fetching frock of pale green muslin trimmed in a smattering of ribbons and bows, he could not in good conscience remember exactly why he had made that idiotic, foolish promise.
Briefly Marcus felt Caroline squeeze his arm gently as if in acknowledgement of all that lay unspoken between them, and he looked down only to find her staring up at him, those mossy green eyes of hers dancing with merriment. As if she somehow knew his silent torment and delighted in it, wench that she was. Unable to help himself, his gaze roamed lower and he caught a glimpse of her décolletage just barely visible beneath her matching green silk pelisse.
God, she was lovely. Perhaps even more so now than when they were younger.
All at once, he felt his body tighten with need, the first time he had felt this strongly about a female since he had returned to London. His head told him that this was not right, that he should make up some excuse and leave her side, but his body argued otherwise. And that part of him was winning the war where the delectable Caroline was concerned.
What in the devil was wrong with him anyway, the angry part of his brain whispered? This was not at all like him. He did not make silly promises to stay away from women, especially ones he knew so well as he knew Caroline. Marcus did as he pleased and no one, not even the bloody Duke of Candlewood, could force him to do otherwise. If he wanted Caroline, he would have her. And that was that.
On the other hand, he reminded himself sternly as he felt the nearly overwhelming urge to pull her closer and perhaps steal a kiss, he did not ravish women in public parks where anyone could see, either.
He chalked it up to a combination of the years that had passed since he had seen her, along with his growing desire to bed a woman. But not Caroline. No matter how much he might desire her.
She muddled his thoughts, made him forget that he was trying to be a better man, one that cared about a young woman's reputation. One who might find a proper young wife, a lady who was biddable and that he could control. He could not do that if he tumbled Caroline in the middle of Hyde Park like she was some sort of doxy.
He would not hurt Caroline, either. He would rather die first. He had promised - not only Candlewood, but himself as well.
That was enough to make him check his more base desires and slowly, he began to come back to himself.
Once Caroline had been his best friend. Now he was acting the fool over her, as if he was afraid to approach her, as if he could not control himself when he was in her presence. Again, what in the hell was wrong with him anyway? If he wanted to be viewed as a whole man, it was about damn time he started acting like one, acting at least a little like the man he had been before. And that man would not have thought twice about escorting Lady Caroline Turner through the park, gossip and rumors be damned. It was only a short stroll, after all.
However, he knew he must tread carefully and his actions must be above reproach. He cared about Caroline far too much to damage her reputation. Still, one little stroll could not possibly hurt. Could it? No. It could not. If anything, it might help them both.
Tucking her arm more firmly into his, they began to stroll through the park, Marcus taking the lead for a change. He had done so much walking however, that he had to lean heavily on his cane to keep them both upright. He prayed that she did not notice.
Caroline noticed the moment that something inside of Marcus shifted and changed. He stood a bit straighter, gripped her arm a bit more firmly and in general became the man she used to know. Slowly, but still a change, the hard, angry man slipping away to reveal her old friend beneath. This was good, she decided. Very good. If she could somehow coax him to continue acting in this manner, he had a strong chance of finding a wife before the season ended.
That was his goal she knew, mostly by way of her friend Lady Jane, who had heard it directly from Lady Radcliffe who had been told of Marcus' plans to marry by her brother, the Duke of Candlewo
od.
It was all very round about, Caroline supposed, but then that was how she obtained much of her information for her Lady X column. She could only observe so much while she was out and about in society. The rest came from her friends and some reliable sources she paid rather handsomely for both their silence and their information. It was not perfect and often times, she struggled with the moral questions surrounding using the information her friends passed along to her for her own gain.
Caroline never revealed something told to her in strictest confidence, feeling that was too much of a betrayal of trust, but there were other tidbits, ones that were more commonly known, that she did supplement with information gleaned from her friends.
That was also one of the primary reasons Caroline trusted so few people. She hated the thought of betraying them, any of them. Jane was her only true friend and even she did not know that Caroline was really Lady X. Thus she had long since decided that it was best to keep her distance from those she had been friendly with before her father had died. Let them think her time away had changed her. It was far better they think her a bit strange than to know the truth.
If it ever became public knowledge that she was Lady X, Caroline knew without a doubt that she would be well and truly ruined. There would be no recovery from such a scandal. It was why she tread carefully every single time she penned a column or stepped outside of her home to deliver one. As of late, she had the oddest sensation that someone was watching her, but she had dismissed it as her own guilty conscience, one that was growing by the day. What if she was wrong, however? What if someone was watching her, seeing where she went and what she did? Whom she spoke with and visited? What if someone already knew the truth?
Caroline pushed that thought aside as quickly as it came. She had enough problems. She did not need to borrow trouble. Besides, she had already decided that once she helped Marcus find a bride, she would begin to ease away from the Lady X persona. It was time and she had already risked much for far longer than she should have. If people did not already suspect her, they most likely would given enough time. Even the silliest of debutantes could not be fooled forever.
She was also terrified that her infatuation with Marcus was tainting the way she wrote. If she was not careful someone would discover the truth before she could end the column, and she could not, under any circumstances, allow that to happen. Marcus needed to find a wife and if she was revealed as Lady X, she could not help him.
Not that she particularly wanted to see him wed to another, but that was the inevitable course of things.
Caroline might desire Marcus for herself but she was also smart enough to know that she could not have him. If he knew what she was truly about - everything from being Lady X to forging his name on the papers that had allowed Amy and Gibson stolen time together - he would hate her. He believed in honesty and integrity above all things. He always had, even when he was busy bedding every woman willing to spread her legs for him. Marcus Cheltenham was many thing, but above all, he was not a liar.
Not to mention that he wanted a perfect, proper wife and that could not be her. First of all, Caroline was far too old, even though they were exactly the same age. Silly that, but then that was society - silly in the extreme. Secondly, there was the little matter of her being Lady X. And third? Well, for the third reason, she loved him far too much to tie her to him, a woman whose past might destroy him and his family if anyone ever discovered her sins. She could never put him or his family at risk like that. No, he was better off with a woman with an impeccable past who would love him with the sort of blind devotion he deserved. Just as she did.
For despite what Marcus thought of himself, he did deserve a perfect, devoted love match above all else. He deserved a wife who would honor and cherish him. He was not a broken man, as she knew he had referred to himself on several occasions. He was merely different now. And different was not a bad thing at all. It was simply, well, different.
For the moment, however, she pushed those thoughts aside and simply basked in the pure joy she felt at being in Marcus' presence, if only for a little while. For a moment, she could even pretend that it was seven years ago and nothing had changed.
"Are you attending the Radcliffe affair this evening?" she asked, both attempting to make chitchat and fishing for information at the same time. She would not print what he told her, of course, but she was planning to attend Julia's affair. If Marcus was to be in attendance as well, then perhaps she could begin to see about securing a wife for him. Or at the very least, weeding out the good candidates from the bad. She was something of an expert on that.
He nodded in affirmation, much to Caroline's relief. "I am, my lady. And you?" Something dark and hot lurked in his eyes but she did her best to ignore it. He could not desire her. That would lead to nothing good she was certain.
"I am. Though I do not know Lady Radcliffe well, she has invited me, probably as a favor to my friend Lady Jane Ashford. And, well, I find myself both unable and unwilling to refuse. I understand she is a most gracious hostess and it is to be one of the most sought after invitations of the season."
"That she is," Marcus agreed easily, though there was a bit of tension in the lines around his mouth. "I have been to many events she has hosted at Seldon Park on behalf of her brother when we were younger. He was new to the dukedom then, and his mother was ill. Julia stepped in admirably." There was a warmth in his tone that he could not hide when he spoke of the duchess, and it made Caroline long to hear him speak of her in the same manner, stupid as that desire was. "Though I am certain that you were invited for more than your connection to Lady Jane." He paused to glance at Caroline. "Or am I wrong in thinking that you are the intriguing woman that the ton refers to at The Mystery?"
Caroline detested that title, but she also could not escape it and, in some ways, it actually served her purpose to remain detached from much of society. "No, you are not wrong, my lord," she sighed as she stepped around a small puddle left over from the previous night's rain, delicately picking up her hem as she did so. "But that is just one part of me. There are other facets to me that most of society does not see." At that, she wanted to clap her hand over her mouth, uncertain as to why she had said that aloud. She had never admitted that to anyone. Why now? Why Marcus? Especially when she wanted to downplay his interest in her.
"And you wish to be seen as something more." He paused and Caroline nearly stumbled when he did not keep walking. "That is something I understand, my lady. Far too well." Then he closed his eyes as if he had committed a horrendous social blunder as well. "Forgive me, my lady. I did not mean to overstep my bounds. My apologies. I should not be so familiar."
For a moment, she saw his carefully cultivated control slip and once more she saw the damaged man beneath - the man she had defended from a madman wielding a scalpel. His lips twitched and a vein in his neck pulsed as if he was struggling to maintain this illusion of control. Which, she decided quickly, was all this version of him really was. This was not the real Marcus. He was too tightly wound, not free enough. There was no anger, no passion in his man, as if he had bottled it all up and locked it away inside of himself.
He was too stiff. Too proper. Too much like the rest of society. Those were thing that the real Marcus - her Marcus - had never been.
Suddenly, Caroline was nearly overcome by the feeling that this was all wrong. The walk. The pretense. All of it. This was not her, not really. Nor was this Marcus. They were not these two stilted people who engaged in nothing but idle pleasantries and meaningless chatter. They were better than this. They knew each other better than this. Or they had once, anyway.
And for one glorious moment, she wanted to be the woman she had been so long ago, the one who counted Viscount Breckenright as her closest friend. She wanted to throw caution to the wind and simply be Caro - the young woman who had worshiped the ground Marcus Cheltenham walked on, albeit in secret. For once, here in the park with no one around, she would allow herself the luxury t
o be the woman he remembered. But not too much. She did not want people to gossip, after all.
"Marcus," she began but he put a finger to her lips briefly before pulling it away, afraid someone might see the intimate gesture and get the wrong impression.
"This is not us, is it?" he asked softly, something in his eyes recalling another time and place, one where they were simply two old friends and not proper strangers. "Not the way we used to be."
She snorted indelicately, thankful that the awful stiffness between them had been broken. "Indeed not. We know each other far too well to play this insipid social game."
"Ah, there you are, Caro." Marcus felt himself smile, the first genuine smile he had offered up in many years. "There is my old friend. I have missed her very much."
Caroline felt herself smiling in return, unable to stop the grin she knew must be spreading across her face. "Here I am. As I have been for some time." Then she glanced around and tugged on his arm, indicating that they should resume walking. Thankfully, he did not protest. "But things are different now. We are different now. I felt as if.... Well, I still feel, really..." Then she trailed off, uncertain what she was trying to say. And she was never at a loss for words.
Staring straight ahead, she felt rather than heard Marcus sigh. "Yet we cannot act as we once did is what you mean. When we were younger, that is. The way we were before."
"Precisely." Somehow, he had managed to find the words that she could not. "I still want to be your friend, Marc," she said gently, using his old nickname. "I want my old friend back. But we must use caution. We both have much to loose. I am older now, on the shelf as you well know, and I do not wish to loose what little place in society I have left." She slowed her pace a bit. "And you are in search of a wife. It would not do to have me hanging about like an old dress when you are in search of something shiny and new. I doubt any woman you might wish to court would want me keeping your company as well."
A Viscount of Mystery Page 5
