A Viscount of Mystery

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  Marcus shoved aside the voice that whispered in his ear that she probably did - and for reasons he did not want to know. He did not care. She was his. In his bed. Her body beneath his, hot and sick with sweat, his cock at her waiting entrance. He would have her. He would not be denied. Not this time.

  "I swear I shall try to be gentle," he growled, though he had no idea how he might accomplish such a feat. He wanted her far too much. When he pushed inside of her for the first time, though, he knew that it would take all of his precious control not to simply thrust all the way in and claim her as his.

  As if sensing his struggle, Caroline arched into him, shifting her hips so that he slid deeper into her body. He was big, far bigger than the man her uncle had selected for her that first time and she cried out at the invasion. She could not help herself. But it was not from the pain of losing her maidenhead as she was certain Marcus believed, but rather it was because he was so big and she had not ever been properly worshiped in this way before.

  But she wanted to be and for that very reason she thrust her hips against his, moaning into his mouth as he plundered hers with more kisses, his one hand rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger while his other held her hips tightly as he attempted to guide himself deeper inside of her waiting heat. Then, he pulled back for a moment before sliding in once more, deeper this time, but still feeling her tight, womanly sheath clench around him hard in protest.

  In and out. Back and forth. Thrust and parry. Then, with what was little better than a muted roar, Marcus gave one final thrust and he was all the way inside of Caroline. Precisely where he wanted to be.

  Caroline's head was spinning. Marcus was inside of her, his cock buried deep in her body. She thought she might die from the sheer pleasure of that alone, but that was before he began to thrust. Slowly at first and then harder, she began to rock her hips in time to his movements, matching him, pulling him in deeper. Shifting her hips and tilting them towards him, allowing him to slide all the way inside of her, so deep that he touched a part of her she had not even known existed.

  Over and over he thrust, their bodies now slick with sweat until Caroline felt herself begin to spin out of control, like a giant wave rushing up inside of her, ready to pull her under and drown her in pure bliss. Then she was over, her body tightening and convulsing as she reached her peak. When Marcus followed close behind, to her surprise she found a second release, this one more powerful than the first. It was then she knew that she was lost. She loved Marcus and she always would. And her heart wanted to weep with the knowledge, especially since he could never truly be hers.

  As the night deepened, Marcus took Caroline again and again, mating their bodies to become one. Each time he reached for her, she went willingly into his arms, eager for more of the true pleasure he could give her. Never once did he ask what she had wanted so desperately to tell him before that first encounter and she did not offer. However as darkness marched on towards the inevitable light, Marcus found himself pulling Caroline closer, unwilling to let her go.

  He wondered briefly about his ability to father a child, but then pushed the thoughts aside. Dr. Hastings had thought it unlikely, at least at first. Though Marcus had done nothing to protect Caroline from a babe, he did not think it mattered. All that mattered at the moment was how much he still wanted her. Again.

  "Stay," he whispered into her hair, hair that had not so very long ago been brushing against his chest in a teasing dance. He stroked his fingertips up and down her arm, thankful for the moment that her back was to him. "Not because I have asked but rather because you desire to."

  Caroline wanted to weep at his words. She did not want this night to end, but she could not stay. Surely he realized that. This was a moment out of time and nothing more. She had given him her reasons why she could not be with him. Why could he not accept them?

  "You know that I would if I could," she replied quietly. "But we have been through this, Marc. I cannot be with you. Not in the way you wish."

  She felt his grip tighten on her for a moment before loosening, as if he was struggling for control. "Damn it, Caro. I don't care about any of that. Whatever it is you think you are protecting me from, you are not. It is you and you alone that I want. I want to marry you. Why can you not see that?"

  Rolling over, she glared at him, her earlier happiness slowly slipping away. "Why do you push for what you know I cannot give? You have my reasons. Let that be enough."

  "No." He was angry now, she could tell, and he pushed up and away from her, the bed swaying as his body shifted. "God damn it, Caroline! I love you! I want to marry you! Yet you make me feel a bloody monster for even suggesting such a thing!"

  In the hours since they had first entered the room, the candles that had once cast such as warm and romantic glow had begun to sputter and die. The same as whatever Caroline and Marcus had shared between them was dying as well.

  "You don't want to marry me," she replied as calmly as she could. "You only think you do. You would be much happier and more satisfied with a proper young..."

  She was unable to finish her sentence. Marcus sprang up with a roar, his nude body cast in shadows so that she could not see all of him. Though what she could see she wanted, and her heart ached with the need.

  "Enough!" He was roaring now and she was certain he would soon wake the entire household. "I do not want another woman as my wife! I want you, you silly little chit! But I understand now! I am good enough to bed but not to marry!" He sneered then, an ugly look crossing his face. "I am a monster, Caroline! We both know it! I only thought that you - you of all people - could look past this shell and see beneath." He gave a snort of derision. "I suppose you are not the woman I thought you were."

  "Marcus, I..." Once more, he did not let her finish.

  "Go." There was an exhaustion in his voice that had not been there before. "Just go, Caroline. Before either of us makes a bigger fool of ourselves than we already have." Silently, he reached down and scooped up her dress, missing the frock the first time as his damaged eye refused to focus in the dim light.

  When she did not immediately reach to take it, he threw it at her. "I said - GO!" This time his voice shook the very walls it was so loud and in the distance, she heard a door slam. Marcus must have heard it as well for he turned to enter his dressing chamber.

  Before he departed, he turned back to her once more, offering her the side of his body with his ruined eye so that she might see exactly how much of a monster he was. "Anderson and James will make certain you are seen safely home." Then his body stiffened as if he was steeling himself for what came next. "Good bye, Caro. I will miss you."

  Then, he was gone, closing the door behind him with a sound thump. It was only when she heard the final click of the lock that Caroline allowed a single tear to roll down her cheek. She had finally gotten what she wanted - for Marcus to leave her alone. Funny how now that she had received her wish, she found that it wasn't what she had wanted after all.

  Chapter Eleven

  Society Tales

  There will be no column this morning due to illness. Let us all wish our devoted author, Lady X, the speediest of recoveries.

  - The Editor

  The next morning, as she slunk home in an unmarked carriage, Caroline was beginning to deeply regret her actions of the previous night. She was also so deep in misery and pain that she did not think there was any way she could go on. Her heart hurt too much and she wondered how badly she had hurt Marcus as well. Probably more than she would ever know.

  She should not have allowed Marcus to bed her. It was as simple as that. She had also made a grave mistake in thinking that one night would him would be enough. For even as she slipped from his coach in the early morning hours before dawn to return to her own bed, her body continued to long for him still.

  She longed for his caresses and his sure, confident kisses. She longed for the teasing play of his hands over her breasts and the way he had brought her pleasure she had only dre
amed of in the past. The sort of pleasure she had not known was possible, really.

  Not that he would ever come near her again. Marcus had said good-bye to her and she was certain that he meant it. She wanted to weep as a sharp sense of dread washed over her, knowing how much she had hurt him. She had refused his proposal and no man liked to be turned down or have his heart trod up - even if it was necessary.

  More than that, however, Caroline felt guilt - not only for what she had done but for what she had not said. And what she had. He wanted to marry her. She had refused. Perhaps that was not the best response to a proposal from a man who had just given her more pleasure than she could have ever dreamed possible. She had hurt him; she knew that without question. However he had taken her by surprise, though in thinking the matter over, perhaps she should not have been so shocked. After all, he had made it rather plain that he wanted her as his wife.

  Now, however, the magical, romantic moment had passed and in the gray light of dawn, she wondered how she could ever look him in the eye again. She doubted it was possible. He did not want her any longer, nor did he wish to see her. Not that she could blame him. He had offered her his heart and she had shattered it, tossing it back in his face as if it were worthless.

  When in fact it was the most priceless gift anyone had ever offered her.

  There was no choice left to her now. She would have to leave London. Marcus needed to stay and find a wife. With his title and fortune he would have no trouble in that regard once she was gone.

  Her heart hurt at the very idea of never seeing him again, but her head, the one she had clearly not been using last evening, told her that being in Marcus' presence was a risk, one she dared not take. Perhaps if she had confessed all before he had made love to her, there would have been a chance.

  Perhaps she could have even said yes to his lovely proposal.

  But she had not and she could not tell him, not now after so much had passed between them. If she had never become Lady X, then maybe, just maybe, her life at the moment would have been very different. Perhaps she would still be abed with Marcus discussing their future. She had come to suspect that he might forgive her for what she had done while in her uncle's clutches. As for her being Lady X? Most likely not.

  That line of thinking once more gave rise to the idea of resigning her column. After all, there would not be one this morning since she had not left Marcus' bed until well after the publication was printed. Her editor would be furious, Caroline well knew. Perhaps the best course of action was to simply write one last column and end this madness. She no longer needed the funds and her accounts had been set to rights. If any issues arose, much as she would not like it, she could also prevail upon Norbert for assistance. After what she had suffered at his father's hands, he would not refuse her.

  Then again, if she left London, she would not need as much income. She could make do with much less. Her fortune, such as it was, might last her through the rest of her life if she was careful.

  She would disappoint many - including herself - if she took that course, but she also knew she was very nearly out of choices.

  Then there was the matter of her servants. While it was true that she was the lady of the house and that they reported to her, many of them had been with her since her childhood. They had stood at her side when her father had passed, doing their best to shield her from the harsh realities of the world. They had protested vigorously when her uncle had taken her from her home and, much to her surprise, had been ready and waiting for her when she had returned several years later, still ready to serve the mistress they adored.

  In truth, they were the only family she had left. She could not simply abandon them. Not to mention that their families lived in London. To take them away from all that they knew, Glenna included, would be cruel indeed. They expected better of her.

  This morning she had noticed the looks of pity, mixed with something that bordered on distaste, in their eyes as they had welcomed her home. They were disappointed in her, much as she was disappointed in herself, even if they were not precisely certain what she had done. Though she suspected, given her rumpled state, they had a fairly good idea. They might have been servants but they were not stupid.

  When Caroline had returned to London, she had sworn that no man would ever use her again, that she would not become any man's doxy. She would not lie with a man without the respectability of marriage. Except that now she had done exactly that, and she was more than a little ashamed of herself.

  She could have refused to go to Marcus' bed, she decided, or perhaps accepted his offer of marriage and prayed that he never learned the truth. She hadn't. She was still too fearful of the consequences should it be revealed that she was Lady X. And a forger. And the list went on, all of her misdeeds spilling out before her. What was one more? Or...possibly two?

  What if she was with child? Marcus' child.

  She hadn't considered that possibility until this very moment and doubted that Marcus had either. There were precautions one could take, she knew, though neither of them had done so. What if Marcus' babe was beginning to grow inside of her belly at this very moment?

  He would do right by her, of course and she would be forced to let him, even though they were no longer on speaking terms at the moment. There would be no question that they would marry. It was the right and proper thing to do and could not be otherwise, even if they hated each other. After all, she could possibly be carrying the next Cheltenham heir. But could she force Marcus' hand like that? Given that he wished to wed her, would he view the situation as her forcing his hand or would he be overjoyed?

  He would probably not be overjoyed she decided as she laid a hand on her stomach. He would finally have what he wanted - her as his wife - but not the way he wanted. Not with this animosity between them, the seeds of hatred she had surely planted that morning beginning to grow between them already.

  Caroline knew she would simply have to learn to live with the consequences of her actions and pray that her past never came to light. For if she was forced to marry Marcus without telling him the truth, she was certain that any happiness they found would be destroyed if and when he ever learned exactly how morally corrupt she truly was. He might forgive her once, but not twice.

  She was still pondering these things later that morning when the butler announced that she had a caller. She had no idea who it might be, for the hour was really far too early for it to be a member of the peerage. After all, with few exceptions, they did not in general rise before noon. Nor did they call outside of acceptable hours.

  At the moment, Caroline wanted nothing more than to be left alone and allowed to wallow in her misery. She wanted to plan what her next step should be, figure out how quickly she could leave town. For the moment, however, she still had a place in society, one she needed to keep, if only for a few more days. Therefore, she would do what was proper and accept the caller. As with most things in her life as of late, she found that she had very little choice.

  Rising, Caroline was not entirely surprised to see Lady Julia Radcliffe practically glide into the room. Though she was no longer a recent bride, she still fairly glowed with love and for a moment, Caroline envied her the peace she seemed to have found. It was also not lost on her that Lady Radcliffe was with child and once more, Caroline thought about her own precarious state.

  Quickly, she rang for tea after offering Lady Radcliffe a seat on one of the high-backed wing chairs that dotted the drawing room. Covered in the dark blue damask that her father had favored, Caroline knew they, along with the dark wood furniture and royal blue wallpaper gave the room an overly masculine feel but she had never had the heart to change it, even though the paper was cracked and peeling a bit in places. She prayed that Lady Radcliffe would not notice. For some reason she could not define, Caroline did not want this elegant woman to think ill of her.

  They chatted for a few moments about the weather and other social issues until a maid appeared with the tea tray and Caroli
ne poured for both of them. Once she was satisfied that she had met all of the social niceties, she sat back a bit, unable to hide the flash of fear that snaked up her spine. Did Julia know that Caroline had spent the previous evening in Marcus' bed? Did she somehow know about the proposal? She prayed that was not the case. And even if she did, why would she care? It was not as if they were friends.

  Taking a deep breath, Caroline placed her biscuit plate back on the table before turning to Lady Radcliffe. Caroline wanted to be left alone, but it was clear that the other woman had something on her mind that she wished to discuss. "Your grace, forgive me for being, well, rather blunt, but what brings you here at this hour? It is far from a respectable calling hour and I have the distinct impression that this is not merely a social call."

  With a smile, Lady Radcliffe placed her teacup on the table, as if she somehow knew that Caroline had not slept much the previous evening and wanted to get on with things. Correction. Had not slept at all, really. "Marcus has always maintained that you are very clever. I am glad to see he was correct."

  "Pardon, my lady?" Caroline felt a knot begin to form somewhere in the vicinity of her stomach. Oh, this was not good at all.

  "Please, call me Julia." Lady Radcliffe smiled, clearly in an attempt to put her hostess at ease. "I know we were not friends during my brief season, but you did champion my match with Benjamin, Lord Radcliffe. In your own way, of course. For that, I thank you. You made it much easier for me to hold my head up in society at a time when I seriously considered retreating to Seldon Park for the remainder of my days."

  There was a glow about Lady Radcliffe that Caroline could not help but envy even as awash in misery as she was at the moment. Then, with a flash of clarity, the full weight of the other woman's words sank into Caroline's mind and she stiffened. She personally had not championed Julia's match with Benjamin. But Lady X had. Quite vocally, especially when other gossip rags were doubting the match.