‘You have my word on it, my lord,’ she agreed, then gave a twisted smile. ‘For whatever that is worth.’
‘Come here, then,’ he ordered her.
Heat flooded her cheeks at this lazy command. She took a few steps towards him, then hesitated, biting her lip. ‘My lord?’
‘Closer, madam.’
Caroline stopped, level with his chest, close enough to hear his breathing. Her knees were weak again, her whole body trembling.
You traitor, she berated herself angrily!
In a leisurely fashion, Trajan ran the tip of his riding crop down her cheek, her throat, following the line of her breasts in the thin muslin gown, down to her hips and thighs.
‘Beautiful,’ he murmured, his grey eyes unreadable. ‘Even in that less than flattering gown. But then, I have the advantage of knowing what lies beneath it, don’t I?’
Her chin came up at that insult. ‘Is this my punishment, sir? To become your mistress? Because I thank you for the offer, but I would rather ... rather some other punishment could be found for me.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘You are in no position to argue, my dear. I have only to take my story to the Runners for your family and friends to be ruined along with you.‘
‘You would not dare!’
‘Try me.’
Caroline closed her eyes for a moment. Then slowly, she raised herself on tiptoe and kissed him on the lips, laying her arms about his neck.
She could not allow her family to be ruined, her father’s name and reputation dragged in the mud. Nor would she betray the identity of her friends in the Petticoat Club. It was no hardship to be a rake’s mistress, and especially this rake’s. Though it would probably kill her once Trajan had taken his fill and cast her aside, as he did all his women in the end.
At least she would enjoy some short time with him, revelling in the pleasure of his hard body against hers in the night. There might even be a child from their union. The disgrace of that could be hidden, and then she would have a remembrance of their time together. Polite society half-expected her to retire to the country soon anyway, having failed to find a husband over five long seasons.
Trajan groaned under her mouth, and abruptly the kiss took fire.
They staggered backwards together until she came up hard against the wall of the salon. His hands supported her, his thigh pressing urgently against hers through the thin muslin. She remembered how they had made love and her body responded instinctively, wrapped about him like a clinging vine.
All laziness gone, his mouth slid down her throat and lingered hotly on the swell of her breasts, leaving her in no doubt of his intentions. She felt her nipples swell to his touch, growing heavy with desire, and moaned. It was not safe, she kept telling herself. Anyone could walk into the front salon and find them caught in this intimate embrace, and then she would be well and truly compromised. Yet her body would not listen to the reason of her head, urging him on with her sighs and caresses.
Eventually though, he was the one who called a halt to their lovemaking. Trajan put her aside with shaking hands, a hard flush in his cheeks. ‘Not here, sweet Caro,’ he muttered. ‘If we go any further and your aunt were to come in, she would collapse with shock.’
‘I accept the offer. I will be your mistress,’ she said simply.
He shook his head, laughing softly under his breath. ‘You truly believe I would accept you as my mistress?’
Her heart clenched in sudden terrible pain. She had been right. She was not good enough for him, neither beautiful nor decorous enough even to be his light o’love.
‘You ...!’ Her throat seized up with hurt. ‘Do your worst then. Take your story to the Runners and be damned!’
‘Caro, Caro,’ he said, catching her by the waist as she spun bitterly away. ‘Don’t be such a little fool. I want you for my wife. Not my mistress. What kind of man do you take me for? How could you think I would not wish to marry you after we had made love like that?’
She stared, not understanding. ‘So ... this is about your
honour?
’
‘No, no!’ Trajan held her so close she could hardly breathe. His voice in her ear was unsteady. ‘This is about my heart. It’s taken me a week of hard sleepless nights to realise it, but I’m in love with you. Caroline, you’re the bravest, most exciting woman I’ve ever known. I should have trusted my instincts that first season and asked you to be my wife, but I was a fool.’
‘Yes,’ she agreed shakily, incredulous but managing a short laugh. ‘You were.’
‘Well, I’m nearly thirty now, and hopefully not such a fool as to let you slip through my fingers again. Though I swear by all that’s holy, if you ever go out adventuring with your Petticoat Club again, I shall not be answerable for my actions.’
‘You cannot forbid me that!’
‘Can I not? Not even as your husband?’
She took a shuddering breath. ‘Not even then. You do not understand. We have work to do. We have wronged women to avenge.’
‘Next time you want to avenge a wronged woman,’ he said sharply, ‘ask me first, and I’ll see to it.’
‘You, my lord?’
She was incredulous, if somewhat excited that he had not dismissed the idea of avenging wronged women out of hand.
‘Yes, my lady. What kind of husband would I be if I allowed my wife to ride the streets of London with a pistol in her pocket, and did not even offer to lend a hand in the venture?’
‘A poor one indeed,’ she agreed candidly. She could not quite believe it though. She looked into his eyes and shivered, recognising the emotion there as one she was feeling herself. ‘Fine sentiments, my lord, but let us not forget that you have not yet asked me to marry you.’
‘How remiss of me.’ He sank to one knee, gazing up at her intensely. ‘Will you marry me, Lady Caroline? Or do I have to play the highwayman to get you into my bed?’
‘Oh,’ she gasped, sudden tears in her eyes, ‘my dearest Trajan. If only you would!’
This story is a sequel to the lively Regency romance
Poppeia and the Petticoat Club
by Elizabeth Moss.
If you enjoy Regency stories, why not read some other “Elizabeth Moss” Regency titles on Kindle?
The Uncatchable Miss Faversham
(full length Regency Romance)
The Earl and his Tiger
(full length Regency Romance – this title sold 32,000 copies between August 2011 and September 2012)
Poppeia and the Petticoat Club
(Regency romance novella)