“Which is exactly why I should come along.” She gave a single nod to emphasize her point.
“Your logic escapes me.” He had the urge to turn in a circle to see if it would help him understand her thoughts.
“Come, let us tell my mother... What shall we tell her? I don’t want her to worry.”
Ah. That provided the perfect excuse for her to remain behind. “Nor do I. You should remain here. Perhaps you could circulate through the room and see if anyone is talking about Stafford.”
“Is that what you do?” At his incredulous look, she lifted one shoulder. “I noticed you often enter parties like this one through the garden then move slowly around the room, pausing here and there.”
“Don’t you do the same?” Panic had him drawing a deep breath. How could the issue with the shipping company have caused her to leap to such conclusions?
“Not the way you do.” She patted his arm. “I don’t think anyone else notices, if that is what has you concerned. You’re quite subtle.”
He had no words to offer in response. His mind had frozen when she’d suggested she accompany him and had yet to thaw.
“Let us go now,” she urged. “His residence isn’t far from here. We can easily return before an hour has passed. I’ll beg Margaret to make an excuse for me if Mother notes my absence.”
“You are incorrigible.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. Thank you. I’d be devastated if you said I was boring.”
Despite every bone in his body protesting, he found himself walking toward the terrace door with Caroline at his side. What magical spell had she cast on him?
~*~
Nerves tingled deep inside Caroline as she settled into Richard’s carriage with him. She felt positively wicked for leaving without a chaperone. When she considered what they intended to do, she could hardly breathe.
But what better way to find out more about her fiancé’s activities than to accompany him on such an outing?
Incorrigible? Perhaps. She blamed her relentless determination on her protective streak. Nothing was more important to her than her family. If Richard was going to join their family, she needed to know what he was doing and why. Though she still knew little, this was one small step in the right direction.
“How exactly do we go about breaking into his home? Or do you simply knock on the door and tell the servant who answers that you left something in the library at the ball they held?”
The bland look Richard cast her threatened to remove that last option from her mind.
“I think it could work,” she said as she tapped her gloved finger on her lower lip, “Though I do see the advantage of sneaking in instead.”
He heaved a beleaguered sigh, shook his head, and kept his gaze fixed out the carriage window.
The streets were quiet, and they arrived near the Staffords’ home within ten minutes. Anticipation filled Caroline as the carriage drew to a halt.
“Wait here.” Richard didn’t bother to look at her as he reached for the door.
“I will not. What good would that do?”
“Caroline—”
“We’re wasting time.” She sat forward, making it clear she was not remaining behind.
The growl that came from Richard’s throat had her eyes widening in surprise. She ignored the warning and followed him out the carriage door.
The night was dark, the sky shrouded with clouds that hid the moon. A streetlight gave a faint glow a short distance away but not enough to penetrate the blackness.
She had the distinct feeling Richard was ignoring her, or at least trying to. After giving instructions to his driver, he walked along the street at a casual pace and, much to her surprise, they passed the front gate of the home.
He continued down the street until he reached the alleyway, then circled to the rear of the house. The only lights in the house were in the kitchen and on the uppermost level where the servants’ rooms were.
Though a flurry of questions crossed her mind, she held her silence. She didn’t think Richard would welcome them.
The back gate creaked as Richard opened it. They both paused, waiting to see if the sound brought anyone running. When the night remained quiet, he continued to the side of the house, and she quickly followed. The darkness made the garden an exotic jungle with odd shapes blocking their path, causing her to catch her breath more than once.
She longed for a light to see more clearly but realized that might alert someone to their presence. She’d never given much thought to the details of how a break-in could be accomplished. Part of her mind was fascinated by the process, realizing why Annabelle loved writing about this sort of thing, but the other part choked back fear at what could happen.
What if she was wrong and the Staffords weren’t gone after all? It would be her fault if they were caught. The thought caused her fear to overtake her curiosity. This suddenly seemed like a terrible idea.
“Richard,” she whispered, only to realize he’d moved onto the terrace.
He turned to look at her and held a finger to his lips. At least she thought he did. It was nearly too dark to see for certain. He bent down and she caught the shape of a knife in his hand. Somehow the sight of the weapon in his grasp set her heart pounding.
When she realized he merely used the blade to pop the lock on the French doors that led to the library, she breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps he wasn’t anticipating the need to defend them after all.
Within moments, he eased open the door. “Wait here. Let me know if someone is coming.”
She frowned at his request. “No one is going to come in through the garden except us. Why don’t I keep watch at the interior door in case one of the servants decides to enter the library?”
He shook his head and continued inside where he paused to listen.
She waited, listening as well. Rather than the peaceful quiet of an empty library, the silence was deafening. She blamed the sensation on her nerves but couldn’t rid herself of the oppressive feeling.
Despite that, she was determined to help. With slow, deep breaths, she stepped inside. The room was so dark, it was impossible to see anything. How on earth could they search for something when they couldn’t even see the desk?
A light flared to life in Richard’s hand. The sight of the candle flame calmed Caroline’s anxiety a bit. She felt the weight of Richard’s gaze and forced herself to turn to study the room. No doubt he worried her nerves would get the best of her. She refused to allow that to happen.
The room was much as she remembered from her brief time in it the previous week. The chair where she’d sat on Richard’s lap caught her gaze, bringing heat to her cheeks at the memory.
As Richard moved toward the desk, Caroline eased toward the door, being as quiet as possible. She placed her ear near the door but heard nothing.
Richard set the candle on the desk and dropped to one knee. The sound of drawers sliding in and the rustle of papers reached her ears.
Several minutes passed. No one seemed aware to their presence. Standing by the door felt like a waste of time when she could be assisting Richard in the search. Granted, she didn’t know for what they were searching, but listening for someone who wasn’t coming didn’t feel productive in the least.
She tiptoed across the room to stand beside Richard. “What are we looking for?” she whispered.
“I thought you were watching to make sure we’re not caught.”
“No one knows we’re here. I think my time would be better spent helping you search.” She eased open a drawer and pulled out a stack of papers from inside.
“Be certain not to disturb anything. Return everything to its original place.”
His quiet words brought to mind the image of the viscount sorting through these same papers, realizing they weren’t in the order he’d left them. Heart racing once again, she set the papers on the desk and looked through them more carefully.
She didn’t see anything of interest but she still
didn’t know why Richard wanted to search Stafford’s desk. “Is there anything specific I should watch for?”
“Anything unusual.”
Caroline stared at Richard. Did he not realize this entire situation was “unusual” to her? Rather than ask more questions, she tried to think of what that might be. She’d been through her father’s correspondence often enough that she could surely spot something out of the ordinary.
The papers contained a few personal letters from relatives but didn’t note anything of interest. Others were from Stafford’s man of business, cautioning against the amount of spending the viscount had done of late. Perhaps his fortune wasn’t as large as rumors suggested.
Muffled voices penetrated her concentration. She looked up in alarm, meeting Richard’s gaze. He wet his fingers and snuffed out the candle.
Hands shaking, she gathered the papers she’d been reading and returned them to the drawer, doing her best not to slam it closed in her haste.
“His lordship won’t mind if we borrow that book.” The library door opened, and the man’s voice echoed in the room. “We’ll put it back before he returns and he’ll be none the wiser.”
Richard grabbed her hand and pulled her down next to him. They crawled along the floor, remaining low until they reached a chair near the window. The fabric of her gown rustled with each movement, making her cringe. Richard guided her to the window and eased them both under the drapes.
Caroline had never been so frightened in her entire life. If Richard hadn’t tugged her along, she’d still be standing by the desk, frozen with fear.
As though sensing her fright, Richard held her close. The warmth of his body calmed her trembling. She pressed her face against his shoulder, hoping to slow her rapid breathing. He tipped his head so his forehead touched hers, his solid strength seeping into her. There was no one she’d rather be in this situation with than him.
“Over here by his desk.”
“It don’t feel right to be in his lordship’s library without his permission.” The woman sounded older, and a metal clinking accompanied her progress across the room. Perhaps she was the housekeeper.
“Do you want to look at the book on herbs or not?” the man asked.
“I do, I do. I’ll put the text back come morning.”
A faint glow came from the edges of the drapes. The servants were coming too close for comfort.
“Here it is.”
“Oh, something fell from the book,” the woman replied. “What shall I do with this?”
“Leave it on the desk for now. Replace it with the book on the morrow.”
“All right.”
The sound of the door shutting allowed Caroline to draw a deep breath. She started to move away, realizing how closely she stood next to Richard, but he held her still.
They waited another minute or two before he at last released her. Richard lit the candle again and moved to the desk to pick up the paper the woman had found.
“Anything interesting?” she whispered.
He shook his head. “Apparently, the viscount is having an affair with an actress.”
“Oh, my.”
He folded the paper and returned it to the exact position in which he’d found it.
“Are we finished?” Caroline asked, hoping they were. Her nerves couldn’t take much more.
“One more place.” But rather than open a drawer, he lowered to search under the desk, running his hand along the surface.
She watched in silence then realized she was wasting time. She turned to look over the bookshelves near her. Perhaps another missive was tucked amongst the books.
Neither of them found anything of interest.
Richard gestured for her to precede him to the French doors then held the candle high to look around the room as though to make certain they hadn’t left anything out of place.
She opened the door, relieved when he followed her out and locked the door behind them.
Within a few short minutes, they returned to his carriage. As they made their way back to the ball, Caroline put her hand on Richard’s arm, more determined than ever to find out what Richard was about.
Unfortunately, she knew nothing more than when they’d left the ball. “You still haven’t told me what you were looking for.”
Chapter Seventeen
Richard nearly groaned. He’d hoped the close call during their search would’ve made Caroline pleased to put the whole situation behind her, including her questions. The way she’d trembled in his arms made her fear evident.
He should’ve known better.
He admired her determination even as he was frustrated by her persistence. What could he do but tell her as much of the truth as possible?
“You do realize I wasn’t there to steal anything.”
She nodded, waiting for more, the carriage light illuminating half her face with the other remaining in shadows, much like their relationship.
“I must ask you once again to trust me.”
“Do you intend to harm the viscount?”
That was difficult to answer. It depended on what Stafford was doing. If he was Le Sournois, then yes, Richard intended to kill him. But he couldn’t tell Caroline that. “Not without cause. If he plans to hurt others or England because of his beliefs, I will take action.”
“Surely you can tell me more than that.”
“I’m afraid I can’t. Not now at any rate.” Perhaps not ever, but he didn’t say that.
She glanced out the carriage window as though considering her words. “I am doing my best to keep my family out of the notice of the ton. If word of my father’s loss of mental capacity spreads, I fear it would put him out of business as well as harm my sisters’ chances of marrying well.”
“That is wise.”
“If the actions of my fiancé bring untoward attention...” Her voice trailed off, leaving him to connect her meaning.
“I will do all I can to make certain that doesn’t happen.” If he ended up killing Wayfair or Stafford, he’d rather no one knew who’d done it. If he survived. Le Sournois had proven his cleverness more times than Richard cared to recall.
“Thank you.” She turned to face him fully, her hand smoothing his lapel. “Whatever you do, you will be careful.”
He was amused she didn’t phrase her request as a question. “Yes.”
She ran her hand up to his neck, sending shivers along his skin. “How careful?”
“Very careful.” Hadn’t he been more cautious since Caroline entered his life? But he needed to make sure that caution didn’t jeopardize his mission.
“How careful?” she repeated, leaning closer, pressing a kiss just under his jaw.
All thoughts halted, and his blood fell to other regions of his body. He was tempted to promise her anything. As long as she didn’t stop.
Her fingers tangled in his hair while she kissed along his neck.
Had she asked him a question?
Rather than waste time pondering that, he claimed her mouth, her lips warm against his. When her tongue danced with his, desire burned low in his belly. He cupped her cheek briefly then lowered his hand to caress her shoulders and arms. She was soft and so sweet.
In that moment, he knew beyond a doubt he wanted to marry this woman. Having her in his life was an unexpected boon he didn’t deserve. How could he possibly ever let her go?
He longed to make her his in every sense of the word, but not when the outcome of the next two weeks was so uncertain. Not yet. He would do everything in his power to follow his quest to a successful conclusion then see where this intense attraction took them.
But none of that mattered now. He only wanted to enjoy the feel of her in his arms, the taste of her. Everything else could wait until the morrow.
Her moan sent his passion soaring, and he focused on earning another.
Several minutes passed before he realized the carriage had stopped. He drew back, loving the desire that darkened her eyes along with the way she held
tight to him, as though reluctant to part.
“I believe we’ve returned to the ball.”
“Oh.” She blinked several times as she released him. If her sigh was any indication, she didn’t want to return to the party any more than he did.
“We should go in.” They might be engaged, but appearances still mattered.
“Yes.” She smoothed her skirt then gave a nod. “Mother will be wondering where I am.”
“Perhaps we should return through separate entrances.”
“Excellent idea.”
He assisted her to alight then gestured for her to enter through the front door a short distance away. “I’ll go in through the garden.”
“I’ll see you inside then.” But rather than walking up the steps, she studied him, making him wonder at her thoughts once again.
Before he could ask, she’d turned and hurried inside, leaving him alone in the dark of the night.
He didn’t care for the feeling at all.
~*~
Caroline was relieved to note the hosts weren’t in the foyer. Thinking of an excuse as to why she was re-entering their party felt beyond her wits at the moment.
She crossed the marbled floor, walked past the tall columns and through the open ballroom doors, her heart heavy despite that wonderful kiss in the carriage.
Though she couldn’t name the reason for it, she didn’t think Richard was hers. She could call him her fiancé, but he remained elusive, as though he held back a part of himself.
Or was she the one doing so?
She’d grown to care for him far more than she’d dreamed since that first night in Southbys’ garden. The passion she found in his arms surprised her. She’d never felt this way before—an odd fluctuation between hope and despair. She better understood why some people did outrageous acts in the name of love.
She halted abruptly. Love?
No, it couldn’t be.
While she certainly cared for Richard, she was still getting to know him. Love was an emotion rarely experienced and only after significant time spent together. Wasn’t it?
Then why did her heart speed at the mere sight of Richard? Why did her world right itself when she was in his arms? Why did she wish they could’ve stayed in the carriage?
Romancing the Rogue (Regency Rendezvous Book 9) Page 17
