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His Compromised Countess

Page 9

by Hale Deborah


  ‘Hush, now, or you’ll make yourself ill.’ He sounded uncomfortable with such an outburst of emotion, yet sincerely concerned about her. ‘I’m certain it isn’t as bad as you fear. You’re just exhausted and overwhelmed by all this.’

  Taking his hand from her back, he produced a handkerchief and began to wipe her face with a soft, hesitant touch. The warmth of his concern wrapped around Caroline, sustaining her and helping her gain control of her runaway emotions.

  ‘There.’ The mellow murmur of Bennett’s voice went straight to her heart in that vulnerable moment. ‘That’s better.’

  Pressing the sodden wad of linen into her hand, he raised his to her cheek in a featherlight caress. Then an irresistible magnetism seemed to draw their lips towards one another.

  The first warm, tremulous contact after such a long absence made Caroline’s senses crackle with suppressed desire suddenly reignited. It flared and spread swiftly until it felt like wildfire raged through her veins.

  The blaze swept through Bennett, too. His embrace tightened, as if to claim her. His kiss grew deeper and more demanding, while she ached to give him everything he wanted and more. Her lips parted to invite the hungry thrust of his tongue.

  Old desires fused with strange new emotions to make this kiss sweeter and more satisfying than any they had shared before. Caroline savoured it like a serving of her favourite food after a long fast. She sought to hoard the feel and taste of it, knowing this would surely be the last time Bennett ever kissed her. While his lips moved over hers with such thrilling fervour, she could pretend that he cared for her in the way she’d once longed for.

  ‘My lord! My lady!’ Parker’s urgent call from the hallway shattered the fragile delight of their stolen kiss. ‘Mrs Hicks says to come quick!’

  Caroline and Bennett flew apart with an abrupt, guilty start, as if they were a pair of adulterous lovers caught in an illicit embrace rather than a married couple exchanging a kiss in the privacy of the bedchamber.

  Wyn! A cold wave of shame doused the blaze of Caroline’s passion. How could she have forgotten her sick little son for even a moment in the selfish pursuit of her own pleasure?

  Bennett’s compelling features clenched in a dark scowl. His inscrutable gaze darted furtively, refusing to meet hers. It was clear he also regretted succumbing to the reckless impulse of desire. Perhaps he even blamed her for tempting him to it.

  What had just happened here? Bennett wondered as Parker’s urgent summons ripped him from the sweet, sultry depths of Caroline’s kiss.

  Part of him wanted to rail at the maid for so rudely interrupting the most exquisite moment of pleasure he’d enjoyed in a very long time. Reason and paternal instinct reminded him that Wyn’s well-being mattered far more than his carnal desires.

  Yet another part of him was desperately grateful for the interruption. Who knew where that imprudent kiss might have led otherwise? His loss of control unnerved him. It would be easy enough to blame his impulsive actions on the perilous combination of exhaustion and desire. But deep down he knew it might be the work of something even more dangerous.

  Those contradictory inclinations battled within him as he and Caroline sprang from the bed and rushed to Wyn’s room. Though he moved swiftly to answer the healer’s summons, part of him longed to hang back, dreading what might await them in that chamber.

  Bracing himself to find his son lying cold and still, he could scarcely believe his eyes when the child held out his arms to Caroline. ‘Mama, I’m hungry. Can I have some porridge?’

  Caroline hesitated for an instant, making Bennett wonder if she might frighten the child by breaking into fresh sobs of relief. He could hardly blame her, for a great choking lump rose in his throat. But somehow she marshalled her composure, venting her emotions in a burst of frenzied laughter instead.

  ‘Of course, dearest! Porridge or whatever else you wish.’ She glanced towards the healer. ‘As long as Mrs Hicks says you may.’

  The woman nodded, her plain, kind face beaming with satisfaction. ‘Not too much to begin with, and nothing too rich. But now that his fever’s broke, the lad needs to eat well to gain his strength back.’

  Bennett exhaled a deep breath of relief at hearing his son was out of danger. But with that worry eased, the matter of the kiss returned to plague him. He told himself it was only the strain of the past few days looking for an outlet. Just as it made Caroline break down in tears, it had unleashed his tightly bound desire.

  Was that also what had made her return his kiss so passionately? he wondered as he watched her fuss over Wyn. Or had she hoped to exploit his passing weakness to prevent him from divorcing her? Not long ago, he’d have had no difficulty believing she might try to manipulate him that way. Now, he was far less certain.

  Whatever their reasons for kissing one another, he could see that living under the same small roof as his estranged wife would be far more complicated as a result.

  Now that Wyn’s fever had broken, the healer packed up her basket of home remedies, preparing to leave.

  Bennett nodded towards the hallway. ‘Might I have a word before you go?’

  The woman gave an obliging nod.

  Before they could get more than two steps, Caroline bounded up from Wyn’s bedside. Clasping the healer’s gnarled hand, she pressed a kiss upon it. ‘I cannot thank you enough for all you’ve done for our son!’

  Mrs Hicks appeared surprised but pleased by such an ardent expression of gratitude. ‘I only helped him get well on his own, dearie, and I was happy to do that.’

  ‘The people of Tresco are very fortunate to have your services,’ Caroline replied, ‘and I shall be for ever in your debt.’

  Wyn called out for his mother’s attention and she was obliged to return to him as Bennett and the healer stepped out into the hallway.

  ‘How soon do you think my son will be sufficiently recovered to sail back to the mainland?’ he asked.

  The prospect of spending much more time in close quarters with Caroline troubled him, though not for the same reason it had before.

  Mrs Hicks pondered his question for a moment, perhaps wondering what answer he was looking for. ‘It may take no more than a week, my lord, if he’s fed well, gets plenty of sleep and nothing upsets him. Children can come around quick after an illness. But the longer you stay, the stronger he’ll get. I reckon you and your wife will know when he’s ready to travel.’

  A week? Bennett could not decide whether that represented an eternity or a far-too-brief instant. He’d already been absent from Parliament for nearly a fortnight and it would take at least another week to get back to London once Wyn was well enough to travel. Duty obliged him to return as soon as possible. Caution warned him it could be dangerous to stay. But concern for his son’s well-being urged him to remain on the island longer, as did other motives he was reluctant to acknowledge.

  ‘We will see how he gets on, then.’ Bennett insisted the healer accept a generous fee for her services. ‘If it is not too much trouble, I hope you will look in on him in a few days to see how he is recovering.’

  ‘Of course.’ Mrs Hicks wagged her forefinger at him. ‘And now that the lad’s fever has broken, there’s no need of you and your wife sitting up with him night and day. If you must have somebody watch him, let that Parker lass earn her wages. You both need your sleep or you’ll fall ill next.’

  Bennett promised to follow her orders and make certain Caroline did, too.

  Once he’d seen Mrs Hicks on her way, Bennett returned to his son’s room, wary of facing his wife again without the welcome buffer and distraction of the healer’s presence.

  Fortunately Wyn was still awake, telling his mother all he could recall of his strange fever dreams. Not trusting himself to get too close to Caroline, Bennett stood at the foot of the bed, listening to their son. He made every effort to avoid her gaze, though now and then he could not resist slanting a swift glance at her.

  It seemed she must be as unsettled as he by their k
iss. If that were the case, then perhaps she would prefer to join him in pretending it had never happened.

  Wyn’s conversation had just begun to lag when Parker appeared with a steaming bowl of porridge for him.

  The child eyed the dish and his mother’s maid. ‘Did you cook that?’

  Parker seemed torn between indignation and amusement. ‘You needn’t fret about that, Master Wyn. Your father hired a proper cook.’

  The child grinned and sniffed the air. ‘It smells good.’

  ‘Shall I feed it to him, my lady?’ Parker asked.

  Caroline shook her head. ‘I can manage, thank you.’

  ‘I can feed myself,’ Wyn insisted. ‘I’m not a baby.’

  ‘Of course you’re not, dearest.’ Caroline took the bowl from Parker, scooped up a spoonful of porridge and blew to cool it. ‘But you have been very ill and it’s not easy to eat in bed without spilling.’

  When the child kept his mouth stubbornly closed, Bennett was about to order him to behave.

  But Caroline managed to secure his cooperation by coaxing. ‘Humour your mama, like a good boy. I never had many chances to feed you when you were a baby.’

  Did he detect a catch in her voice, Bennett wondered, or was it merely his fancy?

  He watched while she fed the child. When the little fellow drifted back to sleep quite soon afterwards, he reached for the empty bowl. ‘I will take this down to the kitchen and tell Parker to come sit with Wyn. Then you and I need to sit down to a proper meal.’

  Caroline shook her head. ‘I’m not very hungry. I’d rather stay here in case Wyn needs me.’

  Was it that? Or was she reluctant to dine with him and make stilted table talk? He did not relish the prospect either, but he knew better than to ignore the healer’s warning.

  ‘You don’t need to prove anything to me, you know.’ In spite of her past actions, he’d finally come to accept that she cared deeply for Wyn, though her manner of expressing that feeling was far different than his.

  ‘I need to prove something to him, and to myself.’ Caroline tilted her chin. ‘Besides, I can sleep as much as I like when he’s gone.’

  ‘We won’t be going for a while yet. You don’t want to exhaust yourself in the meantime.’

  She handed him the porridge bowl. ‘Is that what you were talking about in the hallway with Mrs Hicks—how soon Wyn will be well enough to travel?’

  Bennett nodded.

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘That it could be as little as a week.’

  ‘Surely not.’ Caroline glanced down at the sleeping child. ‘See how thin and peaky he looks. The crossing to Cornwall is so rough. Then you will have more days of travel over bad roads in draughty coaches—every night sleeping in a different inn, some of them none too clean. I can’t help wondering if the journey here was what made him come down with that awful fever.’

  ‘What’s done is done. Fretting about it now will not change anything.’ Was he talking about her bringing Wyn to Tresco, or about the mistakes they’d made in their marriage? Nothing that had happened these past few days could alter the past.

  Then why, Bennett wondered, did he feel as if something deep and vital had changed between them?

  Chapter Seven

  One week.

  The moment Bennett told her what Mrs Hicks had said about how soon Wyn might be fit to travel, Caroline knew what she had to do with that time. She must prove to Bennett that she had changed, was now capable of being the kind of mother Wyn needed. If she accomplished that task to his satisfaction, perhaps he would agree to let their son remain on the island with her until he was fully recovered.

  Caroline knew she had her work cut out for her. With each passing day it became clearer that Bennett could hardly wait to get away from Tresco…and her. The reason was not difficult to guess. It was all because of that kiss!

  When she recalled the stirring, sensual sensation of his lips upon hers, her heart began to race and ripples of fire and ice swept through her. Yet she still had no idea why Bennett had kissed her. Nor was she certain what had made her respond so passionately.

  Was it only a desperate plea for comfort that had got out of hand? Or had her exhaustion let loose an urgent hunger she usually kept under tight control? Perhaps she’d only wanted to make certain Fitz Astley’s kiss was not the last one she would ever taste.

  She hoped it was one of those reasons and nothing more dangerous to her bruised, starving heart. For Bennett’s manner afterwards had made it clear he regretted that impulsive embrace and was determined to pretend it had never happened.

  If that was what he wanted, she could pretend, too.

  ‘Mama!’ Wyn’s voice summoned Caroline back from her woolgathering. ‘What happens next? You stopped right in the middle of the story.’

  ‘Oh, dear, I did, didn’t I?’ Thank goodness Bennett was not on hand to catch her in this latest slip. It was now the fourth day of her precious week and her plan to show Bennett what a good mother she could be was not going well. ‘Where was I?’

  ‘The old woman just met an ox.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Caroline strove to keep her thoughts from straying this time. ‘The old woman said, “Ox, ox drink water. Water won’t quench fire. Fire won’t burn stick. Stick won’t beat dog. Dog won’t bite pig. Piggy won’t jump over the stile and I shan’t get home tonight.”’

  ‘But the ox would not,’ Wyn chimed in. By now he was so familiar with the story he probably could have recited the whole thing to her.

  ‘Tiresome creatures, oxen.’ Caroline smothered a yawn as she tried to recall the next bit of the story.

  Though she and Bennett no longer had to sit up with Wyn through the nights, fatigue still sapped her strength and muddled her thoughts. Now that the child had begun to recover, he was impatient to be up and about. It took all her energy and resources to keep him entertained and in good humour. Simply coaxing him to eat and take his nap were feats that seemed to grow more arduous with each passing day. Caroline had begun to understand why Mrs McGregor often seemed out of temper.

  Still, she knew she must not complain, least of all to Bennett. She did not want to give him any excuse to whisk Wyn away to London as soon as the week was up.

  These past few days he’d seemed to watch her more carefully than ever, silently critical of everything she did with their son. No matter how hard she tried to be a better mother to Wyn, Bennett’s oppressive scrutiny reminded her that once again her best effort was not good enough. Though she told herself his disapproval no longer mattered, deep down she feared it still did and always would.

  ‘Then the pig jumped over the stile—’ Caroline strove to turn her mind away from such troubling thoughts as she concluded the story ‘—and the old woman got home that night, after all.’

  No sooner had the last word left her mouth than Wyn begged, ‘Tell me another story, Mama. Please!’

  The child’s wide, dimpled smile made all her difficulties and worries pale into insignificance. It buoyed her spirits to realise how much Wyn enjoyed her stories and games. Now that he was old enough to take an interest in such things, she felt better equipped to make him happy.

  She lifted his hand and pressed a kiss upon it. ‘If I tell you just one more, will you go to sleep?’

  ‘I’ll try.’

  Three stories later, he seemed no closer to nodding off, while Caroline’s throat felt raw.

  Just then Bennett looked in. Meticulously clean shaven and wearing fresh clothes, his appearance made Caroline acutely self-conscious of hers. That was ridiculous, she reminded herself. She did not care in the least whether her looks pleased her husband. It might only provoke another awkward incident like that disastrous kiss.

  ‘I thought I heard voices. Is it not long past time for his nap?’ The implied censure in Bennett’s look and tone rasped upon her frayed nerves.

  She sighed. ‘I’ve been trying.’

  ‘I don’t want a nap,’ Wyn protested. ‘I want to go
outside and see all those places on the island you told me about. The castles and the beaches and that Gimble place.’

  Bennett listened with a grave frown. ‘You will not be able to go anywhere until you have recovered your strength. For that you need to rest and eat, neither of which you appear to be doing as much as you should.’

  The child shot his father a look that was part reproachful and part sulky. Caroline could tell Bennett’s rebuke had stung.

  ‘Your mama is going to leave now so she can get some rest,’ Bennett announced in a tone that brooked no opposition from her or their son. ‘Perhaps with the room quiet and nothing to excite your attention, you may be able to sleep for a while.’

  What was he trying to say—that her stories prevented Wyn from sleeping and thus from recovering as quickly as he might otherwise? Did Bennett imagine it was a deliberate scheme of hers to keep them both on the island longer? Considering the other offences of which he’d judged her guilty, she would not be surprised.

  During the worst of Wyn’s illness it had felt as if some of the barriers between them were beginning to crumble. But now that their son was out of danger, Bennett seemed eager to build those barricades up again, thicker than ever and bristling with defences. How could she have been so daft as to suppose the grim antagonism of years could melt away in a matter of days?

  Clearly Bennett did not want to believe she was capable of being a more attentive mother. As long as he judged her an unfit parent, he would feel justified in taking her son—just as believing she was an adulteress gave him a pretext for divorcing her. Was it futile trying to change his mind when he seemed so determined to always think the worst of her?

  Their son’s illness had brought him and Caroline together, Bennett reflected as he beckoned his wife away from Wyn’s bedside. But the child’s recovery seemed to be pulling them apart again, throwing their many differences into sharp relief. He tried to tell himself that was all to the good, considering what the future held. But his brief taste of domestic harmony made him regret losing it.

 

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