When Caroline clutched hard at his head, threading her fingers through his hair and pressing him more tightly to her, he took full advantage, using his hand to caress her other nipple until it too pebbled for him in anticipation. Then he switched his attention to that breast, his mouth lavishing the same sweet, maddening strokes on that side as he had on the first.
Still, he craved more of her and when he skimmed a hand down along her hip, she did not resist. Instead, she made a soft mewling sound that hardened his cock even more, almost to the point of pain. That was all of the incentive he needed to keep going.
His hands quested lower until he found the hem of her gown which was already well up around her knees. Quickly he slid his hand beneath those layers of silk and satin and then waited for the inevitable slap or for her to demand that he stop and treat her like the lady she was. It never came. Instead, she moaned again and shifted so that she was nearly straddling his hips, his cock resting precisely where he wished it to be - only with far too many layers of clothing between then,
Marcus moved his hand higher, tracing the lines of her delicate calf muscles and then up to her knee. He rested his hand for a moment, gently stroking her soft skin, but she still did not stop him. Instead she arched into him once again, clearly eager for more.
Over her tantalizing, delectable thighs and then higher still until he brushed the soft nest of curls at the apex of her thighs. He caressed her there and felt the first drops of her moisture on his fingertips. She was ready for him. Ready for him to take her and claim her as his. Unable to stop himself, he dipped a finger into her damp core and she shuddered, crying out at his touch.
It was her keening cry of need that broke the spell, bringing him crashing back to reality, to what he was doing. Or rather to what they were doing. In his carriage. Where anyone could see. As if she was a whore.
It was with great reluctance that Marcus pulled away from her, missing her soft body against his the moment contact was broken. She must have missed it as well for she let out a low mewling noise of distress.
"Shhh. Caro. It is all right, my love." Reaching up, he stroked her hair, heedless of how his fingers mussed her coiffure. "But we cannot do this here. Not now."
Slowly, she opened her eyes, which were still languid with unspent desire. Then, as if she too had come back to herself, a hand flew to her lips. Lips, he was ridiculously pleased to note were still swollen from his kisses.
"Marc. I..."
He silenced her with another kiss, a quick one this time so that he was not tempted to pull her back into his lap and finish what they had started. "Do not tell me you regret this, Caro." He certainly did not. He would be furious if she did, though he did not know exactly why.
"No. It's just that I...well...I cannot..." Her words tangled in her throat before she could speak them and she looked away, embarrassed.
"Stop." At his command, his voice strong and sure, she looked up, surprised to see the old Marcus looking back at her, his eyes glittering in the light of the carriage. There was no trace of weakness within him now, and she suspected that had initially been his point. He did not want her pity or for her to think him less of a man. "I know what you think, my love. That we cannot do this. That I need a proper wife. That might be so, but the fact remains that I want you. I always have. And I mean to have you."
Slowly, Caroline shook her head, her heart protesting loudly as she did so. "No. We cannot and I should never have kissed you. It was..."
"Do not say it was a mistake!" he growled, lifting her easily and setting her opposite him so that he would not be tempted to reach for her once more. "You bloody well know that it was not!"
"Then what was it?" she retorted, frustrated with him for saying such things and with herself for her ardent response to his body. Could he not see the risk they were both taking? Indulging like this? No matter how much they desired each other?
Slowly, a seductive smile, one that made Caroline's toes curl in her slippers, graced Marcus' face. This was Marcus the rake and libertine. This was a man she had never truly known but only seen brief glimpses of in years gone by. "It is only the beginning, Caro. Only the beginning."
That was precisely what she was afraid of.
Chapter Eight
Society Tales
Rumor has it that the strapping Lord M.C., the Viscount B. was seen being helped from a Drury Lane theater by an unknown lady last evening. Nonsense! If anything, the viscount was likely to be assisting her - whoever she was - since he is the picture of health these days! As for the lady in question, I have several reports about whom the lady might have been, as he was seen with Lady C., a late peer's daughter, in the theater. However, just the night before was noticed keeping company with a bevy of pretty young things. Until I can ascertain for certain whom the lucky lady was, I shan't print anything that might reflect poorly upon a lady's character. Or increase her chances for matrimony, either! That is simply not my way.
Also of note at the theater last evening was the appearance of Lord L.M., Scottish heir to a viscountcy himself. What he was doing in Town I cannot hazard a guess, but some have suggested that he, too, is in search of a bride, preferably a pretty English Rose. Could this be a banner year for men falling- willingly or so it seems! - into the parson's mousetrap? Or is the lord in question's visit to London something a little less bewitching and something more of a business matter? Whatever the reason, this author does not hesitate to point out that he is both unfailingly polite and exceedingly nice to look at!
- Lady X
Given how late he was out the previous evening, Marcus knew he should still be abed, sleeping off the frustration that had tied him in knots since his encounter with Caroline in his coach. After all, his body needed the rest, especially after the hellish pain it had inflicted upon him last evening.
However, he was not abed. Instead, he had risen early, much to his valet's dismay and roused Rory, Cheltenham House's head groom, asking the man to have Marcus' prized stallion, Beast, saddled and ready for an early morning ride. The sun was barely in the sky, and not even that in some places, but Marcus needed to be out of the house. Much like his horse, he was restless and feeling confined. Soon Marcus hoped to have his horse in the country where Beast could exercise properly. In the meantime, an early morning jaunt to the park and back would have to do. It was the best he could manage under the circumstances.
Marcus had also been certain to read Lady X's column before setting out. In fact, he had gone so far as to instruct Towson to bring the paper directly to him the moment it arrived. Since both of his parents were still sleeping in preparation for their departure from town, and would likely remain in bed for some time yet, Marcus had plenty of time to scan the column, searching for a mention of his name. Or rather an allusion to him, at any rate. Lady X, like most gossip columnists, did not use actual names but rather an assortment of initials when referring to people. And occasionally titles when matters became a bit confusing. After all, there were only so many acceptable names for society lords and ladies.
As expected this morning, Lady X did not disappoint, though, like Caroline, she also seemed to be intent on pushing Lady Diana and her friends on him as potential brides. He did not want them. In fact, after last evening, he wanted no one but Caroline. She was perfect for him. Not that she would see it that way, he was certain. In that regard, she was just as stubborn as he. When her mind was made up, it was very difficult to change it, but he still meant to try.
From the moment he had pulled his lips from hers for the last time, she had attempted to continue protesting, clearly uncomfortable with the feelings he teased out from deep inside of her. No matter that her body had a completely different reaction to her mind. Uncomfortable or not, at least he had made her feel. That was the most important thing. And if she felt something for him, however small, he was certain he could turn that emotion, whatever it was, into love. After all, it was clear she desired him, given the way she responded to his fevered kisses and c
aresses last night.
As he rode through the still and misty morning, he continued to replay the scene in his carriage over and over. She had wanted him. Badly. Just as much as he had wanted her. So why did she insist upon pulling away, even though he had been the one to stop the madness last evening and only then because he knew she deserved better than a quick tumble in his carriage? Given the way her body reacted to his, it was certainly not because she found him distasteful. Or because she could not stand him. In fact, given the way her tempter had matched his, he was fairly certain she felt a good deal for him.
No, it was not lack of attraction that had made her regret the kiss. Though she claimed that she did not regret a thing, he could tell very well by the expression on her face that she did. He had the feeling she was hiding something. That was not like Caroline. Or rather, it was not like the Caroline he had known.
Did she keep secrets now, he wondered? That was unlike her, but then, she had been gone from town a very long time. What did he really know about Caroline as she was in the present and not the past? What did he know of her time in Northumbria? Precisely nothing. And that bothered him. Something did not seem right, especially after last night. And he wanted to know the truth of her, all of the truth and not merely the parts she chose to share. He wanted to know what secrets she was hiding from him and the sooner the better. He did want to be married and away in the country soon, after all.
Marcus decided that perhaps Mr. Greer's time might be better spent in the north of England rather than in search of Lady X, at least for the moment. There was time to uncover the identity of the mystery lady later, and, in truth, she was doing him no real harm. Oh, he still wanted to meet her, certainly, and he was still beyond intrigued. However, for the first time last night, he had dreamed of bedding not Lady X, but rather Caroline instead.
The body he coveted in his dreams had a face for the first time, and a very lovely one at that. Lady X could wait. Caroline was more important to both his present and his future. If only she would see the situation in that manner, it would be perfect.
He was still pondering the best way to win Caroline's heart when, like a forest nymph, she emerged from the early morning mist, the sun barely high enough in the sky now to give light to the city let alone burn away the fog of night.
"Lady Caroline?" Marcus was immediately suspicious. For all of her borderline scandalous behavior, she was not, in general, reckless. However, this was the second morning she had been out and about in Hyde Park well before most ladies of the ton had even peeked an eye open for the first time. Some might well have not yet been abed at all. She had also never been a particularly early riser. Was this one more part of her that was different now, or was there a darker, more nefarious reason? He wanted to believe it was merely a change in habits, but he could not.
He could also not treat her to a full inquisition about her activities, much as he might want to. It was not proper. There were also other people about, tradesmen going about their business and shop girls on their way to their places of employment. In the light of day, it would not do for him to forget his manners. Or throttle her.
"My lord." Caroline dropped a quick curtsey as he slid off his horse, praying that Beast would remain even-tempered this morning. "You are awake early as well."
Marcus considered her carefully for a moment. "Indeed. I was unaware that you were such an early riser. At one time, you were scarcely to be found up and about before late afternoon."
"Habits change, my lord. All things do." She gave him an innocent look, but her bland expression did not quite reach her eyes. He had the distinct impression that she was hiding something. He also felt as if they were being watched, but he was fairly certain that was nothing more than his imagination. There were no spies lurking about the park on such a damp, misty morning. The very idea was utter nonsense.
While at first glance, Caroline appeared as if she was only out for a morning constitutional, there was something rather wrong about the situation as a whole, though Marcus could not quite put his finger on precisely what. Perhaps it was the slight tremor in her voice or the way her eyes darted behind her, as if she was afraid someone might see her in Marcus' company. Which was of course, patently absurd. There was nothing to worry about.
Or was there?
Belatedly, he took in the lack of a maid, carriage or driver - all things that a proper lady should have when walking about in the park at this hour. Or any hour, really. If she should even be out at all. Even Caroline who claimed to need no one and routinely disappeared from balls and the like without notifying Lady Mary, her paid companion by way of Lady Berkshire. Even she was not that brash, especially not given the way she had lectured Marcus about her reputation and avoiding scandal.
Then there was the matter of her clothing. She wore, well, not to put too fine a point on things, but a particularly hideous creation of gray bombazine that looked better suited to the rag bag than to clothe a gently bred lady like Caroline. She looked poor, to put it bluntly, as if she was only one step above the shop girls he had noticed moments before. Perhaps not even as well off as a flower seller.
Additionally, there was something not quite right about the park itself, as if there were eyes watching that should not be about at this hour. Spying. Waiting. Maybe it was not his imagination after all. Either that or Caroline had him so completely befuddled that he could not think properly. However he pushed those ideas aside as absurd. Instead, he turned his narrow gaze back to Caroline to study her more completely. She was indeed, The Mystery.
Suddenly, several things that had been bothering him, including her supposed lack of interest in him as a man, while her obviously body proved otherwise, began to shift in his mind. Who was this woman before him? Sadly, he did not really know. Not any longer.
"What brings you out on this fine morning, my lady?" He looked around for a maid who had perhaps lagged behind, but he still did not see any sign of another person. "And alone, no less." By God, if she was wandering about on her own where anyone might accost her, she would no longer have the need to fear him ruining her reputation. She would be done in by her own hand without any effort on his part at all.
"Oh, I am not alone," she said, waving in the general direction of a nearby street, and if he squinted, even with his ruined eye, he could vaguely make out the line of a coach. But not the one bearing the Redwing crest. Instead this was a plain, nondescript older carriage that, like Caroline, looked rather shabby. "My coach is waiting for me, as you can plainly see." She shifted from one foot to the other in what Marcus thought to be nervousness. "I merely wanted some time alone this morning to clear my head. The serenity of the park helps me think. And there is so very much on my mind this fine morning."
"I see," he replied, even though he really did not. Could she not do her thinking at home? Or at the very least, in the company of a proper chaperone? "Even so, there are dangers, Caro. Ones that I believe you ignore to your own detriment." He could not resist using his pet name for her, wanting to provoke her into anger rather than face this slightly somber woman before him.
This was not the woman he had ravished in his carriage last evening. This woman was cold and remote. Distant. Not at all like the warm, pliant woman who had come undone in his embrace. "There are men about. Men who might hurt women. Seduce them, even. Ravish them and make all sorts of delicious promises they have no intention of keeping. Though there are others who will. I would like to believe you know the difference." Marcus looked deeply into her eyes, and there he could see that she was remembering the passion they had shared the previous evening. There was his Caroline at last.
Her breath caught in her throat at his words, and she began to tremble a bit. He could see that she more than remembered now that he was standing in front of her. It was as if she was reliving it right before his very eyes. Damn, but he wished he could see her lovely breasts again, nip at her tender flesh as he had done last night. He wanted to know if she was remembering the passion just as
clearly as he.
Then she shook her head as if pushing the thoughts away and her eyes cleared. "I am not so foolish as all of that, Marc." Her words were soft but there was another one of those clear notes of strength beneath, as if she did not wish him to tell her what to do. Well, perhaps she did not. He did not have that right after all. However, that didn't mean that he could not warn her. "I am careful. I promise. And my maid Glenna is in the carriage. I have never really left their sight. But after the last few days...." She closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them again, he could see the passion in them flare once more. "After last night, I did not sleep well. In fact, scarcely a wink. Is that what you wished hear?" She sounded angry, as if she did not want the passions he had awakened in her any more than she wished to find hemlock in her water goblet.
Well no, he thought silently in reproach, at least not if you are going to carry on so. As if I accosted you against your will and ravished you senseless, which I most certainly did not!
Well, that last part might have been true. He wasn't certain either of them had been able to think clearly when they had finally parted.
Instead, he drew in a deep, steadying breath before letting it out slowly, careful to keep his anger in check. He had been doing rather well, he thought, except for his occasional rows with Caroline. And those he would prefer to keep private.
"I am sorry, my lady," he said as he tucked her arm into his, even though she struggled a bit in his grasp, and turned her so that they were now facing back towards her carriage. She might wish to go wandering about unescorted, but while he still drew breath, he would not allow it. "But that changes nothing. Not what happened last night between us, nor the fact that it is not proper for you to wander about Hyde Park on your own, no matter the reason. What if someone had seen you?"
A Viscount of Mystery Page 13
