Desiring Lady Caro (22 page)

Caro was having her hair arranged when he entered the room. Her dresser made the finishing touches, bobbed a curtsey, and left.

“We have a wedding to attend sometime to-day and a new member of the staff.”

She caught his gaze in the mirror and grinned. “Yes, I’m very happy for Collins. Nugent and Maufe agree we need a maid of all work. Her name is Elsa, though it has been decided she will be addressed as Mrs. Collins. She was in service with an aristocratic family here in Innsbruck. The wedding is at two o’clock at the Ka-puzinerkirche. We’ll travel by carriage.”

She stunned him. This was the first time she’d had a household issue to deal with, and she’d mastered it. Though why that should surprise him, he didn’t know. She was, after all, the daughter of a marquis and practically ran his aunt’s household. “Very well. As you have it in hand, I shall wash and change. We have a busy day ahead of us.”

Maufe was waiting for him with a basin of warm water and his kit for the day laid out. “I take it you’ve been told about the wedding, my lord?”

He cut a glance at his valet. “Yes. I wish I’d had some warning.”

“I did offer to tell you, but Collins was insistent that he be the one.”

Huntley rubbed his hand along his jaw. “Maufe, I do not like being the last person to know what is going on in my household. If anything like this happens again, I expect to be forewarned.”

Maufe flushed. “Yes, my lord. I should have given you a hint.”

“Knowing what you did, you should also have had my bath ready and seen me dressed before I saw Collins.” Huntley washed and held out his hand for the razor. “I wanted to have an easy day for her ladyship, and now we shall be rushed.”

His valet remained silent.

“Don’t let it happen again.”

“No, my lord.”

When he finished shaving, he tied his cravat and Maufe helped him with his jacket. “What time do we have to return in order to be at the wedding on time?”

“One o’clock. My lord, her ladyship has a list of the sights she would like to see, and I’ve made arrangements for two of the chocolate tortes to be delivered.”

Huntley heaved a sigh. “Good work. Thank you.”

His valet stilled looked aggrieved.

“What is it, Maufe?”

“It is only eight o’clock, my lord.”

Taking out his watch, Huntley checked it. He hadn’t been paying any attention to the time. “By God, you’re right. I had it as at least past nine. I must have been up earlier than I knew. We won’t be as rushed as I thought.”

Maufe sniffed. “No, my lord.”

Huntley glanced at the ceiling. “I should not have snapped at you, but I want this day to be a good one for her ladyship. She is finally on the mend, though I am concerned the travel may be too much.”

“Yes, my lord,” his valet said, “I understand. I should have given you some warning about the wedding, and we will all help her ladyship.”

Huntley joined his wife at the breakfast table. Caro was such a wealth of information concerning their new staff member that he finally said, “It’s almost as if you’ve met her.”

She swallowed her yogurt. “I have. While you were with Collins, I was with Elsa. Though my German is passable, her English is excellent. Her father is not happy about the match, but her mother is thrilled.” Caro took a piece of a roll and popped it in her mouth. Once she’d swallowed, she continued. “And she’s thirty. Her mother despaired of her finding a husband.”

He took the cup of coffee she handed him. “Why did she leave her position?”

Caro tensed. “A gentleman guest attempted to take advantage of her. When she told her mistress and the woman did nothing, Elsa resigned. She received an excellent reference and returned home.”

“Good for her,” he said approvingly. “I take it that you believe she’ll be an asset to our household?”

Smiling, his wife replied, “Yes. I have several ideas I’m mulling around.”

“If you wish to discuss them with me,” he said, “I’ll be happy to listen, but I have no intention of interfering. The household is yours to run.”

Caro chuckled. “Such a large one as we have.”

He wouldn’t mention returning to England yet. “We will eventually stop traveling.”

Her countenance became serious. “We have decisions to make, don’t we?”

Standing, he came around the table and took her in his arms. “Yes, and we’ll make them together.”

She tilted her head up and suddenly looked much younger than her two and twenty years. Her voice wobbled a little. “Will we?”

“Yes, we will.” If there was one lesson he’d learned from his friends’ marriages, it was to form a partnership with one’s wife. He was used to ordering things as he wished, but it was more important to do what he needed to keep Caro happy and in his life.

 

Caro’s list of places to see was shorter than he’d thought it would be. The Golden Roof was the first sight she wanted to visit, followed by an arch, the city tower, and the cathedral. She sighed for what she thought was the last time over the chocolate torte at Café Munding. He didn’t tell her two of them were coming with them. That would be a surprise. They returned to the hotel for luncheon, and afterwards, an open carriage ride took them along the river.

She held his hand and snuggled into her new fur cloak. “Elsa’s brother is a priest at the church. He is happy she’s marrying, as well.”

Grinning, Huntley replied, “It seems to me that they are all extraordinarily happy to send her away.”

“Well,” she explained, “Elsa and Collins have been corresponding since you came through this past summer.”

He glanced down at her. “Have they? It’s amazing the things I don’t know about my own servants. Is there anything else I should be made aware of?”

Her eyes twinkled with mirth. “It’s early days yet, but I think Nugent and Maufe may be becoming close. They went out together and shopped for our wedding present to Collins and Elsa.”

Huntley put his arm around her. “Do I dare ask what it is?”

“A mantel clock for their new home, when they have one,” Caro said shyly. “And I do think you should give Collins a raise.”

“As you say, my lady,” Huntley agreed. “I’m happy to see that I’ve married an astute woman.”

She cuddled next to him until the carriage turned back into town.

Perhaps Collins’s marriage was fortuitous, Huntley thought. It seemed to spur Caro’s desire to take charge of the household duties. Maybe now they could begin forming the partnership he wanted with her.

They arrived at the church, which was a small, half-timbered building with the door opening straight onto the pavement. The nuptial ceremony was shorter than the full mass he’d expected. Due to their early departure the following morning, the festivities lasted only a few hours.

The new Mrs. Collins was very pretty and plump with a cheerful countenance. What most gentlemen would call an armful. As was his experience with most plump, cheerful women, Huntley could tell she was a force to be reckoned with. While she directed everyone around her, the normally taciturn Collins towered over her with a smile that seemed permanently affixed to his face.

Huntley and Caro exchanged glances.

He placed his lips close to her ear. “I can tell who will rule the roost in their house.”

A smile tugged the corner of her lips. “I think they’ll be very happy. See how Collins looks at Elsa.”

After taking their leave of the newly married couple and the bride’s parents, Huntley and Caro made their way slowly back to the hotel. He wondered how much she missed having a real wedding of her own. “It was a nice ceremony and party.”

She glanced at him. “Yes, it was.”

He drew her closer. “Caro, do you wish you’d had a proper wedding?”

Opening her eyes wide, she replied, “I did have a proper wedding.”

“You know what I mean,” he said. “In a church, with a breakfast afterwards, and our families in attendance.”

“It wouldn’t have happened,” she said firmly. “I am happy now. That is the only thing that matters.”

“Is that the truth?” Perhaps she was right; neither of them had wanted to marry. Who knows what would have happened if fate hadn’t contrived to throw them together. They were within view of the steps to their hotel when he stopped.

Caro gazed up at him. “Yes, I’ve never been happier.”

Pulling her to him, he kissed her. His throat ached with a depth of emotion he’d never thought he’d feel. None of the other women he’d had ever affected him like this. His life would not be complete until he found a way to make Caro love him.

H
oratia glanced out the coach window as she and her entourage arrived at the Hôtel du Jardin in Salon-de-Provence in mid-afternoon, John was already there. His lips quirked crookedly as he saluted her with a glass of wine. She sighed as he came toward her. As much as she disliked admitting it, she’d missed him yesterday evening and this morning. Without his teasing banter, dinner and breakfast had been boring and the trip almost unbearable. If he’d accompanied them, Horatia imagined the journey would have been punctuated with him trying to converse from horseback or suggesting they stop at one place or another. The wicked man was worming his way into her thoughts and life, and she didn’t know how to stop him.

The waiter brought John a bottle of wine and another glass. As the coach rolled to a stop, he stood and strode swiftly toward her. Her breathing quickened as he opened the door and waited. She tried not to smile and failed. “Have you been waiting long?”

He took her hand and helped her from the carriage. “No longer than I expected. I walked around the town and got directions for the major places of interest you might want to visit.” He led her to the table and poured a glass of wine. “We have plenty of time before dinner. Our table is reserved and the meal ordered.”

Keeping her gaze down, she removed her gloves. “You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.”

“It was no trouble at all,” he replied cavalierly. “Smyth made the arrangements.”

She jerked her head up. “Well!”

John grinned.

“Oh! You odious, odious man.”

Shrugging, he replied, “I had to say something to get your attention.”

Taking her bare hands, he kissed first one then the other, making them tingle and other parts of her yearn to be touched. He lowered his voice. “Horatia, I’ve missed you. Come, drink wine with me.”

“I really should go to my chambers.” She shivered slightly and found herself leaning toward him, then sat quickly in the chair he held for her, hoping to hide her reaction.

“Why? Your servants have no need of your supervision. Are you trying to avoid me?”

Opening her mouth, she closed it again. “I’m not sure.”

He was embarrassingly astute and direct. What was the matter with her? She’d pined for him all day and now—now his presence made her feel more than she wanted to. Thousands of tiny jolts ran through her. She wanted his arms around her again and his lips on hers.

He smiled broadly. “
That
is the truth.” Lifting his glass of wine, he toasted. “
À Santé”

She raised her glass to him. “
Et bonne chance
.”

The afternoon sun warmed her back and the cool rosé wine was dry and fruity as it slid over her tongue and down her throat. “This is wonderful. Is it local?”

“Yes.” He brought his chair closer to hers so that he was now next to her. “If you look across the road and up the hill, you’ll see the vineyard.”

Horatia turned in the direction he indicated. “Oh yes. I see it.”

He lightly touched the back of her neck. Suppressing a shiver, she turned. Their mouths were so close she almost touched her lips to his. His warm, light peridot eyes captured hers. She drank half her glass of wine in one gulp.

John emptied his, stood, and held out his hand. “Come walk with me. The wine will be here when we return.”

When she rose, he tucked her hand in his arm and they strolled around the side of the stucco building, keeping to the flagstone path. Some hardy roses, still in bloom, climbed trellises. High boxwood bushes formed a background for a few late summer annuals, now giving way to chrysanthemums and asters.

He led her down a passage that ended in an arbor next to a tall, weathered stone wall. What was he thinking? “Where are you taking me?”

He grinned but didn’t stop. “You’ll see in minute.”

She tugged to disengage her arm. He held it tight. “Just a little farther.”

When they reached the arbor, he stood in front of her and slid his hands slowly down her arms and back up them again, lighting fires under her skin. Her mouth was suddenly dry. “Where are we? I cannot see anything.”

“In the far back corner of the garden. Where we won’t be disturbed.”

“What do you—”

He covered her lips with his. Oh, she’d missed this. Her mouth opened. His tongue languidly stroked hers as his hands ran freely over her body. When he cupped her aching breasts, she moaned and pressed into his palms.

She’d never been kissed like this. As if he’d devour her. She stepped closer, and John stroked her from the back of her neck down over her derrière, setting her on fire. Horatia tried not to sink into his warmth, but his hard chest beckoned. She gripped his neck and played with his sandy curls. His arousal rode between them. She deliberately rubbed against it. What would it be like to touch him?

He groaned. Finally. Some indication he was as affected as she. She moved one hand down over his buttock, then around to the front of his hard, muscular thigh, inching it higher. Wetness pooled between her legs. She’d never wanted a man so much. Perhaps it was only because it had been so long, so very long.

Three petticoats and a silk twill gown—she may as well have been naked when his palms cupped her bottom. Then his fingers touched the spot already on fire between her legs and stroked. She hung on to him with both arms. Hot streaks coursed through her as she rubbed against his hand, wanting more.

She tried to draw her mind back to think, but as if he knew what she was doing, he deepened the kiss, overwhelming her mouth as his fingers played. A keening sigh escaped her as flames licked her mons and ran up her body. Did he even know what he was doing to her? If he didn’t, he’d find out soon enough.

Suddenly, it happened. The shuddering relief she’d not experienced in so many years coursed through her, causing her to explode. Horatia’s arms loosened, and he caught her. She wanted more. If only he’d ruck her skirts up, she would happily sink down onto him and let him fill her. He was as hard as rock. What was the devil waiting for?
Drat. The wager
. He’d lose the wager.

Then she remembered where they were and her face flamed, mortified. He hadn’t even been skin to skin with her. She never should have allowed it. She’d known how it would be if he touched her. George always said she was a wanton, and he’d been right.

The next thing she knew, John sat on the arbor bench with her on his lap. “Horatia, my love.”

She couldn’t face him. Not now.

“Horatia. Look at me.” He placed one finger under her chin and tilted her head up. “What’s wrong?”

What did it matter what she said to him now? He knew it any way. “I am shameless.”

When she tried to hang her head, his finger kept it up. “What put that thought into your head?”

“George said it.” She raised her gaze to John’s eyes. Desire and humor mixed in their green depths. How humiliating.

“I’ll wager he didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

Tears started in her eyes. “No, probably not, but that doesn’t make it any less true.”

“You are a passionate woman.” John lowered his voice to a soft murmur. “Who has kept it all hidden for years.” He kissed her gently. “You’re like dry tinder ready to burn.”

He shifted her into a more comfortable position but did not release her gaze. “Ask yourself why now and why with me? Why did you never remarry?”

She wished she knew the reason she was so attracted to John. It might help her resist him. “No gentleman is interested in a woman who is barren. At least not for marriage, and I will be no man’s mistress.”

John caressed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “I want to marry you.”

If only it was true, but he didn’t know her. “You only think you do. You’re in love with an image.”

He blew out a frustrated breath. “Though I’ve had to rely on letters from George and from friends who came across you after he died, I’ve known for years how much more than that portrait you are. You’re an intelligent, vibrant woman. I wanted to come to you years sooner, but was unable to leave. Instead, I had to rely on news from friends. I was on my way to find you when we met in Marseille.”

Her heart drummed hard and fast, as if it would burst from her chest. Whatever she’d expected him to say, it was not that. “You are serious?”

He grinned a little. “I did tell you.”

She rubbed her brow, trying to make sense of it all. When she was young, she believed everyone had one person they were supposed to love. She’d married a man who was kind, and whom she loved but was not in love with. For years she thought that was how it was supposed to be. Yet her feelings for John were different. Was she falling in love? “I don’t know what to do. Everything, the flight from Venice, meeting you, it’s all happened so quickly.”

Beneath her, his muscles clenched, turning him from a fairly comfortable chair into hard wood. “Flight from Venice?”

“Yes, of course.” She searched his face. “Did I not tell you? No, I suppose I haven’t. My goddaughter was being persecuted by a Venetian marchese . . .”

Sitting up straighter, he fixed her with a curious look. “So that’s the reason you have so many servants with you. You’re not returning.”

She frowned. What did he think? That she traveled with almost twenty servants all the time? How absurd. “Yes. Most of them have been with me since I moved to Venice, some, like De Valle, have been with me since I married, and my dresser since I came out.”

John leaned back against the bench, resettling Horatia on his lap. “With all that on your mind, I’m surprised you didn’t send me to the right about.”

His arms held her nestled against him. Well, that was an unfair remark. “If you will recall,” she retorted tartly, “I did try.” She glanced up from under her lashes. “You just wouldn’t go.” She tried to sit up straight, but he held her where she was. “So you see now, I have a great many responsibilities I cannot ignore.”

John was quiet for a few moments as he stroked her back. Probably trying to figure out a graceful way to leave her, all her dependents, and her problems. What was she doing sitting on his lap?

She struggled again to get up but was defeated by his arm clamping around her waist.

“Give me a moment.”

A moment for what, pray?
“If you wish to leave,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster under the circumstances, “I’ll understand.”

“No.” He glowered, radiating anger.

Well, what had he to be upset about? She was the one who’d made a fool of herself.

“I do not wish to leave.” He nuzzled her neck. “I’m trying to think how we can make it all work.”

A minute or so later, he said, “I have a proposal.”

Horatia raised a brow. “You’ve had several already.”

“A new one, which will nullify the others.”

Well, that was probably a good idea. She knew now she’d have lost the bedding-betrothal wager. As she waited for him to continue, the scent of the roses floated through her senses. What a beautiful place. Flowers and vines everywhere. It did not even seem as late in the season as it was. A tall boxwood hedge helped to screen the rest of the garden from this little alcove.

“I have it.”

He sat up so suddenly Horatia tightened her grip on his neck to avoid being tossed off his lap. Where she should not be in the first place. His arm kept her in place.

“Allow me to court you, as we’d agreed in the beginning, but this time I will not demand we spend time together. It will be your choice.”

Drat the man.
He’d truly trapped her. Now she’d have to admit she wanted to spend time with him. And she’d been having so much fun testing her wits against his. “To what purpose?”

“To put less strain on you.” His fingers made patterns on her back. “Our little game has been fun, but it’s not fair for me to add to your burdens when I wish to ease them.”

She shouldn’t have said anything to him about her troubles. “Yes, well, I suppose we can go on in a companionable fashion.”

He shot a concerned glance at her. “You don’t sound happy.”

Horatia gave a light shrug. “I enjoyed our conversations.”

John settled back against the bench again. “We’ll still have them, and perhaps more moments like this as well. Will you dine with me this evening, my lady?”

On the other hand, being here was very nice. “Yes, if you’ll have a glass of wine with me now.”

“My pleasure.” He kissed the tender place beneath her ear.

A shiver of desire coursed through her. Perhaps a more regular courtship wouldn’t be so boring after all, especially if he would allow her in his bed.

After easing her off him, he placed her hand on his arm and led her out of the arbor.

John sensed the small quiver running down her neck as he kissed it. He should’ve found her sooner. But from all he’d heard, she had been living a safe, quiet life in Venice. Sooner rather than later, he’d have to tell her about both his title and the possibility that she might be able to become pregnant. If he waited too long, she’d think he’d deceived her. Or perhaps he could simply tell her about the earldom and leave the other to chance. After all, he wasn’t positive she could bear a child, only that George couldn’t get one on a woman.

John and Horatia ambled around the garden on their way back to the table.

After they finished the wine, there was still time to stroll around the small town and view the sections of the city wall that still remained.

Later that afternoon, they stood on the ramparts of the city wall looking over the rolling hills of the countryside. Some of the fields were still green, others yellow or purple. She told him about the route she planned to Nancy.

He took her hand and kissed it. “How long would you like to stop in Avignon?”

“Three days or so. Time to rest and enjoy what the city has to offer. I’ve never traveled in France, you know.”