“Have you solidified your husband list? Tell me how your hunt is progressing.”
His growly demand was in keeping with his ferocious attire.
“Aren’t you the wily one to advise and pursue simultaneously?”
“Indeed.”
“I have eliminated several gentlemen and continue to thin the field.”
He tugged her closer in what others would interpret as a movement in the dance, yet she knew differently. He might ask her about possible suitors and negate her suggestions concerning candidates to wed, but deep down he disliked the conversation. She guessed he persisted only because he needed to know. That idea tickled her decidedly.
Her lips were a scant few inches from his chin, the only skin exposed by his mask, and she wished to press her mouth there, lick over the deep indent in a sensual caress that sent a shiver of naughty anticipation straight to her core.
“Is that how you view my intentions?”
“How could I not?” She forced herself to exhale. “I remember our kiss in the stairwell.”
“As do I.” His hand tightened on hers for the briefest moment.
“Is this your idea of courtship, my lord?”
“Is that what we’re doing?”
She might have heard him chuckle, though the movement and music made her unsure.
“Why don’t you tell me more about Kingswood. I enjoy hearing of your home.”
“Perhaps you should see it for yourself.”
She didn’t know what to make of that, but a spark of excitement reverberated along his veins, chased too quickly by a shock of impropriety. Dare she be so bold? His hand gripped hers more firmly and he released her just far enough to lead in a full turn before he gathered her close again.
“I would like that.”
“As would I.”
The music ended with a flourish and she pressed her lips together in disappointment, knowing their conversation had ended too abruptly.
He stepped back and the swelling crowd of festive garb and chattery guests swallowed him. Hopefully he would reappear in yet another disguise so they could continue what seemed an abrupt end to their negotiations.
But that was not to be.
Her mother found her not a beat later and chased the threat of disappointment away.
“I rejoice in seeing you on the arm of so many gentlemen this evening. You’ve partnered for every dance. Accepting this invitation was a good idea, Caroline.” Her mother gave a thoughtful nod. “Surely you’ll come away with future opportunities from the evening. Remember, a gentleman’s conversation is most important. Be demure. Listen attentively and dare not speak your mind. I know you understand the importance of making a fortuitous match. No matter the circumstances, do your best to remember all we’ve discussed.”
Caroline dismissed her mother’s contrary advice as she watched her walk away. The ball continued and she politely accepted invitations to dance from three guests who were not Lindsey. As the hour progressed, she began to wonder if perhaps he had no other disguises, no other ideas to place himself in her path.
“Don’t look to your left, but a lion is watching you as closely as if he hunts his prey.”
Lady Henley came up beside her, two glasses of champagne in hand. Caroline welcomed the distraction of her friend’s conversation, though she politely declined the beverage, her stomach too knotted for the sweet refreshment.
“I’m afraid I’ve danced too much already.” Caroline dared a slight peek over her shoulder in hope she could identify Lindsey in the vicinity, but the thick crowd prevented it. “I was contemplating whether or not to retire for the evening. These slippers have pinched my toes terribly for the past hour.” She glanced downward and silently apologized to her footwear for the exaggeration of what was nothing more than a lack of desire to remain at the event now that her earl had gone.
“Ah, but not quite yet. The musicians are beginning another waltz, and it would appear the king of the jungle means to claim your hand.” Teresa laughed softly as she stepped away, and Caroline looked up into a pair of familiar eyes, their long dark lashes as beguiling as the lion who stood before her.
“My lady.”
If only she was.
The startling thought that this wasn’t just a whimsical game of flirtation, that she would very much like to mean more to the Earl of Lindsey than a distraction from his boredom, rose up and snared her attention.
They fell into step and spent the first minute of the dance in utter silence. Her mind spun with the gravity of her realization. She had no idea what Jonathan contemplated.
“Your fragrance is enchanting, my lady.”
He wasn’t given to frequent compliments, and her smile curled at his kind words.
“Thank you, my lord.” She glanced up, into his enigmatic gaze, far too beguiling behind that mask. So many masks he wore in real life. How ironic to discover a touch of the true man while he was disguised.
“Meet me in the garden after the next musical arrangement.” He turned her, the pressure of his palm on the small of her back insistent she pay heed to both his words and movement as they neared the rear wall of windows adjacent to the marble terrace. “I have a gift to share.”
He chuckled at her questioning stare, the throaty sound evoking a race of shivers across her bare shoulders to warm her blood and cause her heart to join the chase. And then he released her from his hold and exited the ballroom through the French doors, vanishing into the night. She might have stood there, motionless, blindly watching after him, if the orchestra hadn’t begun a high-spirited number, as if to remind she had limited time to execute her plan. With nothing more than a shallow smile, she excused herself and hurried away.
Chapter Twenty
Caroline slipped through the rear doors of the estate, discarded her mask into the forgiving fronds of a nearby potted plant, and ventured out onto the same walkway she’d traversed the day of her arrival. At that time she’d wanted another glimpse of Lindsey, at best a chance opportunity to converse with him again, but now she escaped the masquerade for a clandestine meeting. A whisper of fog swirled over her ankles to remind she wasn’t dressed for strolling through a garden. Overhead, diamond starlight studded the sky but otherwise, aside from the few oil lanterns that crackled and flickered as they adorned the doorframe, she’d stepped into complete quietude.
Her heart beat hard in her chest. Was it nervous anticipation or a thrum of her conscience which reminded no good could come of her actions? Mother’s abundant advice poked at her brain. A lady knows her place and never endeavors to venture beyond society’s strictures. How about beyond the garden wall? It was both scandalous and daring. Her mother would suffer an apoplectic fit if Caroline were discovered.
But she yearned to learn more of Lindsey, his enigmatic allure most certainly a mask for a man of sincere thought and emotion. He’d gone to great trouble this evening, changing into multiple costumes to dance with her repeatedly. Hidden beneath all those layers of rakish charm was a loyal heart of gold. She was sure of it.
And now, she would have the opportunity to know him better. Without worry or interference from society and its restrictive rules. Perhaps then she could satisfy her curiosity and put it all to rest.
She walked across the slates with unwavering certainty this was what she wanted to do, needed to do. If she didn’t take advantage of the earl’s invitation, she’d never forgive herself and never hold a thought for wondering if she’d mistakenly chosen timidity instead of adventure.
But what of Lindsey? She’d fallen under his spell and likely fallen in love along the way. What of his interest? Was she yet another diversion? What gift could he possibly mean to share with her in the darkened gardens at this late hour?
The steady thud of horse hooves interrupted her conflicted deliberation. Shadows shifted against the curtain of night sky and she reco
gnized Infinity first, because there was no disguising the regal animal, even in the velvety darkness.
A moment later, the stallion slowed to a stop.
“You’re here.” Lindsey looked majestic dressed in eveningwear atop his bewitching mount.
“You told me to come to the gardens,” she whispered, though there was no fear of being discovered. She’d walked far enough from the estate that she couldn’t be detected by sight or sound.
“I asked you,” he corrected, a note of teasing in his voice.
“Was there a question? I don’t recall.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s more important that you’re here.”
He slid from the saddle and stepped beside her. His horse retreated, swallowed by the darkness, as if the animal possessed equal manners to its master, a misty cloud of lingering breath the only proof the scene wasn’t an aberration.
Everything fell silent except her pulse. The heady scent of night blooms and gardenia added perfume to the air. He closed the distance between them in one stride and stared at her intently.
“Is this what you want, Caroline?”
His voice moved over her; each syllable brushed again her skin. He leaned in, a covert smile at play across his face. Then with hardly any movement at all his lips possessed hers, his tongue brushing into the hollow of her mouth in a sensual bid for attention. He broke the kiss before she could register all the pleasure it offered.
“Are you asking permission?” Her words sounded breathless. She willed her pulse to slow, her heartbeat to steady.
“I would never harm you and despite the late hour, night sky, and foolish masquerade, I would never risk your reputation or respect without your full consent to step beyond society’s strictures.”
“Very prettily said, my lord.” She moved her mouth closer to his in case he desired to kiss her again. “My answer is yes.”
“You will be ruined if anyone discovers you’ve left the party to sneak away with me to Kingswood.”
“My answer is still yes.”
She heard him exhale. Was it relief or contentment which caused his reaction? She didn’t have time to decide, as he let out a low whistle and Infinity reappeared, his huge form separating from the night like black magic. The gravity of the moment caused her breath to catch. She hadn’t ridden sidesaddle or otherwise since her accident. She didn’t fear horses. She admired them actually, for their beauty and strength. But likewise, her mother’s dire warning rang in her ears. Nevertheless, she trusted Lindsey and knew his reputation as an excellent horseman.
Lindsey mounted in a graceful movement that belied his broad stature. Once settled, he extended his arm. She stared at his hand for a beat and then with surety placed her palm in his firm grasp.
* * * *
The short ride to Kingswood would be the death of him. Every nudge and nestle of Caroline’s firm backside against his groin provoked wicked images he’d rather contemplate alone and not astride a horse. It was an uncomfortable pleasure-pain, but still he couldn’t vanquish the happiness she brought to him with her trust and eager acceptance of his invitation. He had only a vague idea of what the night would hold. He wanted to show her his estate. Wanted to separate her from all duties, distractions, and responsibilities and keep her locked away all to himself, at least for a good hour or so. He needed to spend time with her for reasons he wasn’t yet ready to examine.
He’d hardly sorted his thoughts and intentions before they turned onto a wooded trail that connected the two properties. He hadn’t visited Kingswood since his father’s passing and the solicitor’s unsettling reading of the will. Not wishing to exhume the ugly, often violent memories his father had instilled here, Lindsey had also neglected his mother’s memory. Kingswood was her home more than anyone’s. She’d persevered and endured by pottering around in her gardens when others might have succumbed to their husband’s tyranny in an altogether different manner. He supposed she alone was the reason a few strangled childhood recollections survived here among the soft scent of so many roses.
He slowed Infinity and maneuvered his horse around a bend which led to the rear entrance of the estate. Sallow moonlight lent a burnished tone to the limestone stonework, and as he nudged Infinity closer his eyes followed the pathway straight to the back door. A soft glow shone in the lower-floor windows, while few of the second-floor windows were lighted. He’d sent word ahead he would make use of the property this week, although he hadn’t informed the staff of exactly when he would arrive. Now, as he approached, he wondered at the wisdom in his decision to bring Caroline here. In one of many poor habits, he hadn’t thought beyond the moment. Beyond the desire to have Caroline all to himself.
Here.
Now.
“It’s lovely.” She twisted her neck in an effort to be heard and he moved closer, bowing his head so her lips nearly brushed his cheek. Her scent was quick to settle in his soul.
“I love this property and despise it just the same.” Not wanting to pale the evening, he didn’t explain further. It wasn’t the time to complicate matters with his unhappy history. If only they could spend hours here in the daylight instead of the dead of night. Night hours revealed all kinds of unpleasant memories. At least in the new sun, his mother’s gardens promised a shred of hope.
He’d underestimated his staff, as a footman readily opened the rear door and signaled to another servant, who took hold of Infinity’s reins. Lindsey nodded, no words necessary, and after he slid from the saddle he turned and lifted Caroline down with great care. The footman, a man of discretion, as were all his servants, viewed Caroline warily and then just as quickly cast his eyes away. Aside from the lady’s beauty, which would cause any male to take notice, she remained dressed in costume. Coupled with their unexpected arrival, the man earned his startled lapse.
Another beat and they were once again alone.
“Were it daylight, I would take you into the grounds.” He canted his head and she viewed the direction he’d indicated. “My mother planted roses.”
She returned her attention to him. Did his tone give away too much?
“I see.”
“No, you couldn’t possibly. But I hope someday you will.” Her brow furrowed at his cryptic remark, but she didn’t question him.
His parents had shown little affection. His father withheld any approval or fondness, and his mother was too consumed by her own sadness to spare him gentleness. “My mother planted flowers whenever my father troubled her. And be assured I use the word troubled in the broadest definition. He drank and spewed vitriol. She planted roses. He raised a hand to her. She planted roses. He brought whores into our home and she planted roses. Were it daylight you would see hundreds, if not thousands, of blooms in every color imaginable. Not just some cutting garden where the staff collects blooms for the hall, but endless beds in a riot of colors that form a tapestry of pain and abuse. As their marriage endured, her gardens grew in proportion. And yet however bittersweet, I didn’t realize how much I missed the remembrance of her in this place until we rode onto the property.”
“I’m sorry, Jonathan.” She hurried to continue. “I can smell their lovely fragrance despite it’s so late.”
He met her eyes, stared into the depths, and any further consideration of his disgraceful father and miserable upbringing evaporated like mist in the night. Yet at the root of it, he knew it was why he never dared open his heart to love, never took an interest in the women who’d warmed his bed in the past. It was a convenient habit he believed hurt no one. What a fool he was after all.
“Come.” He reached for her hand, clasping her fingers tightly. “Let’s go inside.”
* * * *
Caroline placed her hand on his forearm after they’d walked over the threshold. The flex of his muscles beneath his coat caused a shimmer of excitement to sweep through her. Either that or she’d caught a chill from their s
pontaneous jaunt across the countryside. She couldn’t explain it and didn’t try, because whatever Lindsey meant to accomplish by bringing her here was important to him. She could tell in each of his deliberate movements, each carefully spoken word. This man who shared so little of himself.
They’d entered through the back and were met with immediate warmth. She glanced briefly into each room as they accomplished the hall, first the service kitchens, where several fireplaces kept the rooms aglow, and then farther, past the decker’s room and dining room until they reached a cozy parlor. Undulating shadows cast by an eager flame danced across the hall. She was surprised to see a fire burned here as well, more startled when he closed the double doors and turned the key in the lock.
“Had you already planned to visit Kingswood this evening?” She couldn’t keep her curiosity at bay any longer.
“I think so.”
His puzzling answer left her confused, not for the first time since they’d arrived at Kingswood. “This is a lovely room. Your mother must have enjoyed greeting guests here.” She wondered of his history, his upbringing. The few words he’d spared as they’d come across the property border left her aghast at how solitary and sad his childhood must have been.
“She rarely took callers. Aside from the distance to London, my mother was often in need of quietude. Whether it was an abundance of emotion she wished to disguise or the evidence of my father’s mistreatment, I shall never know. I was sent off to school as soon as I was of age.”
She measured his reply, unsure if she should comment. He wouldn’t want her pity or sympathy. He was far too proud for either, though she longed to wrap her arms around him. The usual devil-may-care attitude that served as his mask was gone, replaced by a haunting expression of disappointment.
“I’m sorry, Jonathan.” She couldn’t resist the slightest comfort. “It must have been difficult growing up in a house with so little kindness. My parents are a loving sort and I find myself equally giving of gentle emotion.”
“My father and I did everything we could to avoid crossing each other’s path. It was a simple task to accomplish. The house is large and meant to be filled with the sound of laughter. Instead my father considered me…” He paused and drew a deep breath. “Useless in all but one purpose, which was to carry on his name. I will never give him that satisfaction, even in death.”
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