Desiring Lady Caro (27 page)

When he nodded, Horatia turned to Caro’s dresser. “Nugent, I’ve sent Caro out for a walk in the garden. Keep her out of Lord Huntley’s sight until you hear him bellowing again. Then I want you to bring her to the front of the hotel and leave her there.” Horatia clapped her hands together several times. “Come, come. There is no time to lose.”

Once the servants left, she turned to Risher. “Get me a wrapper and take out something for me to wear so it will appear as if I’m dressing. Go to Caro’s room and put away everything on her dressing table. He won’t notice more than that.”

Risher narrowed her eyes. “What are you planning?”

“I’m going to make him think Caro’s run away.”

Shaking her head, Risher went to the wardrobe. “I hope you know what you’re doing, my lady. He’s got a temper like the old lord.”

Horatia smiled wryly. “So do I. Yet it’s clear Caro and Huntley are in love, else they’d not be acting like this. I’m just helping them resolve their problem.”

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. “My lady?” Maufe said.

“Come in.”

He opened the door. “There is a coach leaving in the next fifteen minutes or so. It’s being loaded as we speak.”

“That cuts it close, but it might do. Job well done, Mr. Maufe. Carry on.”

He shut the door.

About ten minutes later, a door down the corridor opened and closed. Booted feet pounded down the stairs and the muted sounds of people getting out of the way drifted up. Risher glanced at Horatia. She nodded. “It won’t be long now.”

Taking a seat at her dressing table, she waited. Soon there was a loud and insistent banging on her parlor door. She raised a brow at Risher and tried to keep her lips from twitching.

“Where is my wife?” Huntley roared.

Good Lord, he sounded just like his grandfather. She faced the door and in her most imperious tone said, “You may as well come in. I have no intention of holding a conversation with you through the door.”

The door slammed open and bounced against the wall. He stood in the entrance. Anger and concern warred in his darkened face. “Where’s Caro? I searched all over the inn. She wouldn’t go anyplace without telling you.”

Horatia calmly raised her chin. “Caro has left.”

His jaw clenched. “When?”

“A few moments ago.” Turning away from him and back into the mirror, Horatia signaled Risher to continue dressing her hair.

He gave an anguished groan and the sound of his boots echoed in the corridor.

Horatia met her dresser’s gaze in the mirror. “Well, maybe he’ll finally realize what he needs to do.”

“I certainly hope so, my lady,” Risher agreed. “I would like to see them settled before we leave for Paris.”

Nugent and Maufe entered Horatia’s parlor.

“It went against the grain for me to deceive him,” Maufe said.

Nugent took his hand in hers and nodded sagely. “But it’s for the best. Both of them needed a little push.”

 

“Collins!” Huntley roared as he raced down the stairs.

“He’s gone to see about some horses,” John said. “What is it?”

Huntley couldn’t let her go. Somehow he had to make it right between them. He responded without stopping. “Caro, she’s leaving. I have to stop her.”

“I’ll come.” Whitton fell in behind him. “Do you know where she’s gone?”

“No.” A coach with a team of six just started out of the yard. “There.” Huntley pointed. “See if you can stop the horses.”

John raced out and, ignoring the coachman’s protests, grabbed the leader’s harness. Huntley jerked the door open and reached inside. “Caro!” Something hard hit his hand. He jerked it back and glanced up. Two elderly ladies scowled at him. “I’m sorry, I—I thought you were my wife.”

“Well,” one of the ladies said, “if that’s the way you treat her, no wonder she doesn’t want you.”

“Ain’t no one been out here for the last twenty minutes or so,” the coachman added.

Huntley closed the door and backed up as the coach lurched forward. Vanished. She’d left, and it was his fault. Where would she go, and how was he going to find her?

“Gervais?” a small, tentative voice asked.

Caro
. He swung around and almost before it registered that it was her, he crushed her to him. “Thank God. Caro, Caro. I can’t live without you. Please don’t go.”

“You don’t want me just because of the baby?”

“God, no. Is that what you thought?” He kissed her hair and her temple. “I’m such a fool. Caro, I love you. I’ve loved you for weeks now.”

She stared up at him, all the pain she’d been feeling in her beautiful blue gaze.

“Then I don’t understand why you didn’t come to me when I was so ill.”

“Oh, my darling.” He kissed her eyes, tasting her salty tears. “I thought you didn’t want me.”

Her chin quivered. “Not want you? I was never so lonely and miserable.”

“My love, I’m so sorry. I’ll never spend another night away from you.” He’d never let go of her again. Why had he listened to that old woman?

He captured her lips and plundered. He finally released her enough to speak, but not to leave.

Tears stained her cheeks, but she was smiling again. “I love you too. I couldn’t live with the thought you didn’t return my feelings.”

John cleared his throat. “You two might want to consider taking this inside. You’re creating quite a stir out here.”

Huntley glanced up at the growing crowd. “Yes, of course.” He reached down, swooping Caro up into his arms.

“
Gervais!
You can’t just carry me with all these people here.”

“You’re in a delicate condition and you’re not well.”

Her light giggle tinkled musically in his ears. “I feel much better now. Even ladies who are breeding can walk. I’m sure your mother did.”

“You’re not my mother. You’re my wife, and I love you.”

Laughter mingled with tears as she pressed her face into his neck. “Yes, my lord husband.”

Others around them laughed as well, before suddenly becoming silent.

Caro glanced up and froze.

Di Venier, mounted on a black horse, stared at her and Gervais as if he’d like to murder someone. Probably her husband. A large traveling coach loomed behind him. Were they never going to be rid of him?

He dismounted and bowed. “Lord Huntley, I will take your burden.”

Gervais pulled her closer. She wondered if he had his pistol. Yet even if he did, with her in his arms, he couldn’t get to it.

Rage burbled up in her. She trembled slightly. One hand held tightly onto Gervais, the other formed a fist. How dare di Venier threaten her husband and her child? She would not allow him to ruin her life. “You arrogant, insufferable, perfidious popinjay. I demand you leave my husband and me alone.”

Di Venier, who’d been swaggering forward, stopped. “I would give you a better life, a—”

“You lecherous murderer,” Caro spat at him. “I would rather end my life than allow you to touch me.”

Gervais’s grip on her tightened again. “My love,” he whispered, cautioning her.

She shook her head. “No. I will have my say. This cannot go on. I’ll not be frightened any longer, and I won’t let this toad destroy what we have.”

The marchese stared as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “But you, a woman of passion, with
him
, an
Englishman
?”

Did the stupid man assume only Venetians could be passionate? She fixed di Venier with a cold look. “I am carrying my husband’s child.”

His eyes grew wide. “No, this cannot be happening. God is not so cruel. You are lying!”

“How stupid you are,” she sneered. “Why do you think we married so quickly?” Right now, she’d do or say anything to stop di Venier. If she had a pistol, she’d shoot the marchese herself for keeping her out here when all she wanted was to be alone with Gervais and not feel sick anymore.

For just a moment, an anguished, haunted look appeared in di Venier’s eyes, then they hardened and he withdrew a gun from the pocket of his greatcoat. “I think not.”

In her ear, Gervais whispered, “No matter what happens, don’t move. I’ll try not to ruin your gown.”

His arm shifted under her, moving her skirts aside. She tightened her grip on him.

“If you value your life, Lord Huntley, put her down,” di Venier demanded.

“Go, now,” Gervais said. “If you try to take my wife, you’ll not leave here alive.”

The air crackled between the two of them.

“I’d listen to Huntley, if I were you.” John’s laconic voice disturbed the tension.

Di Venier’s gaze went back and forth between John and Gervais. Di Venier raised a hand and another man, armed with a musket, came forward. “I think not.”

Why would the man not believe her? “I’m not going anyplace with you.”

His lips curled. “Not even to protect your husband?”

Part of her couldn’t believe he’d kill Gervais, but another part of her knew di Venier would at least try. Her life wouldn’t be worth living if anything happened to Gervais.

As if he could read her mind, her husband said, “Stay.”

The yard was so still, but blood rushed in her ears. A large red traveling coach trimmed in gold with an ornate crest on the door pulled into the yard behind di Venier, yet no one seemed to notice.

The Duca de Venier descended, and in a strong voice said, “Antonio.”

The marchese’s eyes slanted toward the duke. “What are you doing here?”

“Did you think you could hide your plans from me? I am here for you. To stop you from making a grave mistake.”

“Nonno. I will come as soon as Lady Caro joins me.”

“Have done with this foolishness. I have arranged a marriage for you and the contract is signed. Will you disgrace the name of di Venier with this childish behavior?”

“She is the one I want.”

The older man’s tone gentled but was still full of command. “Yes, yes, I know, but this one is already taken and does not appear to want to leave her husband.” He made a signal and two servants stood on either side of the marchese.

The duke addressed her. “My lady. I apologize for my grandson. I beg you will forgive him.”

Before she could even think of an answer, di Venier lunged. Gervais shifted her in his arms and a shot rang out, and the pistol the marchese had held fell to the ground. Blood flowed from his hand, making Caro’s stomach lurch.

Gervais turned her head to his chest. “Don’t look.”

One of the duke’s servants took hold of the marchese, escorting him to the red carriage. The other took his horse and tied it to the back of the coach the marchese had brought. In a matter of moments, both carriages were gone.

She rested her head against Gervais’s shoulder. “Do you think it’s truly over this time?”

“Yes. He won’t bother us again.” He kissed her. “We have some making up to do.”

Caro grinned. “Yes, I think you’re right. You may let me down now.”

He turned toward the inn.

“Gervais—”

How he managed to kiss her and at the same time carry her up to their chamber, she’d never know. Yet by the time he placed her gently on the bed, most of her laces were undone. She had no idea he was so talented.

S
atisfied, Horatia smiled as she watched Huntley carrying her formerly staid goddaughter, elbowing his way through the crowd of interested on-lookers that had formed at the inn’s door. That was a job well done.

Her back prickled as a large male body stood behind her. “You are sure,” John commented dryly, “you could not have got the same results without all the drama? Before the marchese showed up, it was like watching a Drury Lane farce.”

She glanced up at her handsome husband. “We probably could have got them in the same room without their shouting at each other, but there was too much pent-up energy that needed to be released.”

“Termagant.” He put his arms around her. “Who were the old ladies leaving in the carriage?”

“The Misses Berry. Two redoubtable spinsters well able to look after themselves.”

As he led Horatia back into the inn, he said, “Shall we expect the young couple to join us for dinner?”

“Hmm.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “It would not surprise me if we didn’t see them until breakfast. Though they do have to eat. Which reminds me, I must try to discover a remedy for Caro’s morning sickness, the poor thing.”

They reached their chamber door and John opened it. “The next time you decide to plan one of your little events, please let me know in advance.”

Horatia turned and kissed him. “I do expect a couple of people to arrive, but not for a few days at the soonest.”

“Who would that be?” he asked as he nipped her ear.

“Caro’s and Huntley’s parents.” She sighed with contentment. She had only been married for a few days, but so far, it was turning into the most enjoyable thing she’d ever done.

John stopped for a moment. “I wonder if your nephew and goddaughter will thank you for that. I had no idea you were such a meddler.”

Horatia drew her brows together. “No, neither did I. It seems now that I am deliriously happy, I want the rest of the world to be, as well.”

Trying to fix John’s life for him had been her first attempt at it, and to-day it had come naturally. Perhaps it was a latent talent.

The first of her gown’s ties loosened.

“Deliriously happy, is it?” He kissed her neck. “Not just amazingly?”

Her mouth dried in anticipation as his hands traveled up from her waist to her breasts. “No, definitely . . .”

“My lady,” Risher called in a low but urgent voice from the corridor, “you must come straight away. Both the Marchioness of Huntingdon and the Marchioness of Broadhurst have arrived, and they—”

John opened the door. “Please come in.”

Risher ignored him. “And they want to know where Lord and Lady Huntley are.”

“Oh dear,” Horatia said as she started toward the door. “I don’t think this is a good time to interrupt them.”

John held her back, fastening her laces again. “Hold still,” he ordered. “It won’t do for you to run around the hotel with your gown falling down. Risher, see if you can stop the mothers from making any forward progress. They might have a shock if they disrupt their lord and ladyship.”

“Yes, my lord.” Risher rushed out of the room.

“There you go, my love.” He held his arm out to her. “I think you miscalculated.”

They hurried out the door. “I think I did. How did they get here so soon?”

Horatia didn’t even want to think what her sister-in-law’s and friend’s responses would be if they entered Caro and Huntley’s chamber.

When Horatia and John reached the other end of the corridor, Caro’s mother, with Huntley’s right behind her, over Maufe and Nugent’s objections, had reached out and grasped the door latch.

“
No, don’t!
” Horatia yelled, too late.

Caro’s legs were wrapped tightly around Huntley as he thrust one last time. He swallowed her cry with a kiss and emptied his heart and soul into her. “I love you.”

“I love—”

“
Caro!
” a woman cried from the door.

He quickly dragged the cover up and roared, “Who the devil are you, madam, and what are
you
doing in
my
chamber?”

Beneath him, his wife’s eyes were like saucers, and she turned the brightest shade of red he’d ever seen. He glanced at the door. A woman standing stock still, slapped her hand over her mouth.

“
Out. Now.
Maufe, remove that person, or I’ll do it.” He made as if to throw off the cover.

“Huntley, you stay right where you are.”

“Mama?”

“Yes, my lord, right away.” Maufe bowed. “My lady, you must leave now.”

“Oh dear,” Horatia said, ushering the two women out of the room. “Sally, perhaps you and Emily should wash and rest from your journey.”

“Who is Emily?” Huntley asked. How many women were out there?

Caro was making some kind of noise, and he thought at first that she was crying, but when he looked, she was laughing so hard, tears were in her eyes.

“What is going on?”

She tried to speak and went into whoops again. “Oh my,” she said and got no further.

He disengaged himself and rolled so that she was now on top. Bringing her down to him he kissed her through her giggles.

Finally, she was able to bring herself under control. “That was my mother.”

He closed his eyes and groaned. “But what was she doing entering our room like that?”

Caro shook her head. “I have no idea. I suppose we shall have to join both of our mothers later.”

“If she hasn’t fled the hotel in shock.” He reached out, tugged the bell-pull and closed the bed hangings. Soon the sound of a tub being brought into the room and water being poured could be heard. “I wrote your father that we’d wed, and I am sure that my cousin, Everard, did as well.”

Caro chuckled. “So they know we’re not living in sin.”

He smiled. “I hope this cures your mother of pushing her way into a person’s chamber uninvited.” The door shut. “But what the deuce are they doing here?”

His wife shrugged. “I suppose we will find out later.”

Placing his hand lightly on her stomach, he asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Much better than I have been,” she replied. “Perhaps it was all the travel.”

“I am sorry for not staying with you, my love. I should never have listened to the old hag.”

“No, no,” she said, placing her fingers on his lips. “I was just as much at fault. I should have called for you. Nugent did ask if she should bring you to me. Yet . . . oh, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It does matter.” He captured her gaze. He needed to know everything that had happened. “No more secrets. I think it’s time you told me everything about what happened before you left England.”

She nodded and slipped off him. Running a hand over his chest, she wondered where to begin. “When I was sixteen, I fell in love. My father said I was much too young, but the young man said he would wait. Though when he went to Town for the Season, he found another lady and married her.” Gervais stroked her hair. “Later, I was told he’d had no choice but to marry money, and soon, because of his father’s and grandfather’s gambling.”

He kissed her temple. “Go on.”

“The Season after that, I was seventeen, and Mama decided to bring me out, but I was still pining for Andrew.”

“Andrew?”

“The young man, Andrew Seaton.”

Gervais nodded. “I’ve met him and the lady he married. It’s clear it was not a love match.”

She knew he said it to make her feel better, and it did. Though she was glad now she’d not married Andrew. Gervais was all she wanted. “I had a number of offers, but could not find anyone I truly wanted to wed. When my father proposed a match, I accepted. At the time it didn’t matter to me who I married, if it wasn’t Andrew.”

Huntley rubbed her back and cuddled her closer to him. She had started to tense, but he always seemed to know exactly what to do to calm her. “Yet when I came to know my betrothed better, I knew I could not go through with it.” She tried to keep her voice from hitching. It had been weeks since she’d even thought about all of it.

“Who was it, my love?”

She thought only briefly about keeping the name to herself. Yet Gervais was her husband and had a right to know. “He is now the Earl of Thornbridge.

Huntley sucked in a breath and growled, “Thornbridge. I have an old score to settle with him.”

That was not welcome news. Gervais had been so good about not fighting the marchese, until he had to shoot him, that she hadn’t thought he might fight someone else. She clutched him and held on as if he were ready to leave now, and said as fiercely as she could, “No, if anything were to happen to you, I would die.”

He kissed her again and stroked down her back and around to her stomach. “He doesn’t have the skill to hurt me. I should have killed him the first time.”

“The tweenie you told Nugent about?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Caro breathed in deeply. “I knew he was evil. I just didn’t know that he would . . .”

His grip on her tightened. “I’ll not allow the rascal anyplace near you again. Not even in the same town.”

That she knew. Gervais would never allow anyone to harm her, but neither would she allow him to be hurt. “It’s over. You healed me.”

He shook his head. “What about all the other women and girls he has and will hurt?”

Caro’s stomach turned. “Gervais, I don’t feel well.”

He sprang from the bed, grabbed a basin, then held her hair back. When she was done, he handed her a cup of weak tea, donned his dressing gown, and tugged the bell-pull.

Nugent appeared in the doorway.

“We need some of the ginger tea,” he said. “Her ladyship has been ill again.”

“I’ll get a bowl of salty broth as well, and some dried bread.”

Gervais came back to Caro, sitting down next to her. “We are not going anywhere until you’ve recovered from this malady.”

“Thank you.” She cast around for something to keep her mind off her stomach and realized that they’d both forgotten their mothers. “I wonder why Mama is here.”

He sat up, bringing her with him, and said, “I wonder what both our mamas are doing here and if our fathers are far behind.”

Her eyes widened. “You don’t think they will object to our marrying, do you?”

He laughed. “It really doesn’t matter if they do. Neither of us are minors, and we are both eligible. Though I did promise my father I’d not bring home a wife. I’m going to assume he meant a foreign bride.”

How strange everything had turned out, Caro thought. Her husband had been escaping the match-making mamas, and she had resolved never to marry. And now they were both happy, in love, and wed. Not to mention the baby. She chuckled. “Not just a wife, but also a child on the way.”

Gervais’s lips curved up and his eyes were almost green as he gazed at her. “And I wouldn’t give up either of you.”

She was so happy her heart ached. “No, neither would I.”

 

Horatia and John were in a parlor overlooking the courtyard terrace, enjoying the local wine. “It appears that everything is working out,” she said. “Though I knew both their fathers would be happy with the match.”

He covered her hand with his. “We need to make some decisions of our own.”

She nodded. “Yes. I suppose we shall have to travel to your estates and decide what must be done.”

“We will, but what about your servants?”

Horatia took a sip of wine. “I am still of a mind to buy a house in Paris.”

He stroked her hand, and a shiver ran up her arm. John’s deep voice washed over her. “We’ll find an agent when we arrive in Paris, but right now I’d like some more of your time.”

How was it he could discuss buying property and make it sound like he was undressing her?

He rose just as her dear friend, Emily, Marchioness of Broadhurst, and her sister-in-law, Sally, Marchioness of Huntingdon, joined them. Both ladies turned curious gazes on Horatia and John.

Horatia stifled a sigh, motioned them to take their seats, and called for more wine to be served. “Please allow me to present my husband, John, Earl of Devon.”

Strange how much she enjoyed saying that.

Both ladies hugged her, and Sally said, “My dear, I thought you had decided not to marry again.”

What a thing to say in front of John
. Though she probably should have expected it. Her sister-in-law had always been extremely forthright. Horatia fought the blush rising in her neck. “I said I would not wed again unless a man caught my attention.” She glanced briefly at John; he grinned. “He certainly did that.”

“Well,” Sally said, “I am very pleased for you and wish you both happy.” She looked at John and then to Horatia. “When did you marry?”

“About a week ago,” John replied.

She told them how the flight from Venice and meeting John had come about.

Emily grinned. “I can tell you my girls will think it very romantic. I cannot say I would disagree with them.” She paused for a moment. “Thank you for protecting my daughter so well.”

Sally frowned a bit. “I’ll be interested to know how it was everything was settled between Huntley and Caro.”

Emily nodded. “Yes indeed.”

“Not that it matters,” Sally said, “but what did the children say?”

Horatia shook her head. “We haven’t had an opportunity to discuss it yet. They arrived perhaps an hour ago, and we’d just gotten things sorted out when you arrived.”

Emily blushed. “Yes, well. I can see they are getting along.”

Horatia drew her brows together. “How did you get here so quickly? I sent the letter less than a week ago.”

Sally settled back and took a sip of wine. “We were all still in London when the notes from Huntley, Caro, and Everard arrived. Although we were all extremely satisfied with the news, it did take us by surprise. Of course, there was nothing for it but for Huntingdon and Broadhurst to begin working on the marriage settlements.” She glanced at John. “No offense intended, but you know what men are when they start to bicker.”