Confessions at Midnight (18 page)

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Authors: Jacquie D’Alessandro

Tags: #love_contemporary

BOOK: Confessions at Midnight
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"Beautiful lady, beautiful lady," squawked the parrot.

Daniel smiled into her eyes. "Now that's the smartest thing he's ever said. And he says plenty, believe me."

"So I've gathered."

"Give us a smooch," said Naughty.

"You heard the parrot," Daniel said in a perfectly serious tone. '"Give us a smooch.'"

With a laugh, she raised on her toes. "If you insist."

His lips brushed over hers and he fought against the urge to deepen the kiss. Forced himself to keep the contact light-if for no other reason than to prove he could remain in control.

"Let's have a tup, lady."

Daniel raised his head and shot Naughty a glare. It was definitely time to get Carolyn away from his chattering bird. "Time for tea," he said, taking her hand and leading her toward the door.

"What's a 'tup'?" Carolyn asked.

Daniel dragged his free hand down his face and tugged her out of the room. "It's an… unladylike term."

"For what?"

"Carnal relations." Instantly, a plethora of images bombarded him. Of him and Carolyn, naked bodies entwined, engaged in carnal relations. A film of sweat coated the base of his spine and he clenched his jaw.

When they reached the drawing room, he deliberately kept the door open-just to prove to himself that he could. That he didn't need to touch her. Or kiss her. That he was perfectly capable of not doing so. That he could win the struggle to retain the gentlemanly restraint she so effortlessly stripped from him.

So instead of giving in to the overwhelming desire to lock the door and drag her to the floor, he went to his desk and withdrew a piece of vellum. "What were those French phrases that will save me?"

She'd just finished repeating them when Katie entered bearing the tea tray. Daniel noted that although the young maid's lip was still swollen and bruises still marred her face, she looked much better than she had last evening.

"How are you feeling, Katie?" he asked.

"Much improved, milord, thank ye," she answered, setting the tray on the table in front of the settee.

"Are you certain you feel well enough to be working already? There's no need to rush."

"I'm fine, milord. And wouldn't dream of takin' advantage of yer generosity." She straightened and clasped her hands in front of her. "I'm grateful not only for ye seein' my injuries treated, but fer givin' me this position." She swallowed. "I'd 'bout given up on thinkin' there were still decent people in this city." She shifted her gaze to Carolyn. "And my thanks to you, too, my lady. Ye were so kind to me." Her bottom lip trembled. "And Gertrude as well. She reminded me so much of my mum. Died last year, my mum did. I miss her somethin' awful."

"I'm so sorry for your loss," Carolyn said. "And I'm glad you're feeling better."

"Thank ye." She offered a quick curtsy then quit the room, leaving the door open, as she'd found it.

"Shall I pour?" Carolyn asked.

"Thank you." His gaze drifted to his dogs, who sat lined up on the hearth rug like pigeons upon a branch, their gazes riveted on the plate of biscuits. "You have a rapt audience," he said with a chuckle.

After serving them both-and tossing each dog a biscuit-she sipped her tea, then stared into the hearth at the low-burning flames. Darnel's gaze roamed over her, taking in her glossy hair, delicate features, and lovely pale green muslin gown. Bloody hell, she was stunning. Literally, as she completely stunned him, not only with her beauty, but her wit. And intelligence. And that devilishly mischievous streak. And the passion that sizzled beneath the surface of that perfect, ladylike exterior.

He was just contemplating how she would react to him pulling her onto his lap when she turned toward him.

"I have a proposition to offer you," she said.

"Yes," he said without hesitation.

"Yes what?"

"My answer is yes. To your proposition."

She blinked. "You don't even know what it is."

"I cannot fathom not liking anything you might suggest. Especially if it's anything like what I was thinking."

"And what were you thinking?"

"That I'd like to drag you onto my lap and slip my hand beneath your gown."

She looked toward the ceiling, but a smile teased the corners of her mouth. "Again you're thinking of sensual matters."

"Not at all. Clearly you didn't hear the word 'gown,' which makes it, once again, a clothing matter."

"Certainly an activity ripe with appeal and possibilities. However, my proposition-at least this one-concerns Katie and her employment situation."

"You mean her position here?"

"Yes. Daniel, I suspect you do not really require another maid. That you offered the job to Katie simply out of kindness. And if that is indeed the case, well,
I'd
like to hire her."

His brows rose. "You're in need of a maid?"

"Not exactly."

"Then why? You think her unhappy with her position here?"

"Not at all," she said quickly, shaking her head. "But I thought about this all morning, wondering if I should broach the subject with you. Seeing Katie just now convinces me my idea is sound. She's obviously grateful to you, and your offering her the position was very kind and generous. But considering her circumstances, I wonder if she might not feel more comfortable in a woman's household. Plus, she clearly took a strong liking to Gertrude, as Gertrude did to her."

She paused, looked down into her steaming cup, then again raised her gaze to his. "Plus, those things you said, about feeling useless and unfulfilled and how helping those in need has lessened those sentiments… I know all about feeling useless and unfulfilled, and have yearned for an enterprise to help chase them away. I find your efforts with your animals and now with helping Katie very admirable. Honorable. And I'd like to be a part of them. I thought offering Katie employment in my household could be a first step." Uncertainty flashed in her eyes. "That is, if you wouldn't mind my help."

For several seconds Daniel simply stared at her, stilled by the unexpected emotions her words elicited. After clearing his throat, he said quietly, "It's been a very long time since anyone has used the words 'admirable' and 'honorable' to describe anything I've done, Carolyn."

"I find that difficult to believe."

"You shouldn't. They certainly haven't always described me. I'm not certain I deserve them now."

Her gaze searched his, a frown marring her brow. "Based on your actions, on what I've observed,
I'm
certain you do. And I'm certain Samuel would say the same. And Katie. And all your animal friends, if they were able to do so."

She set aside her teacup then reached out to lay her hand on his. Heat rushed up his arm, and his heart ridiculously skipped at the simple touch. "You should be proud of what you've done, Daniel. Of what you're continuing to do. And I'd be proud and honored to help you. In any way you'd allow me to do so. And I'd be delighted… and relieved… to be doing something useful."

He looked down and studied her pale, slim hand resting on his. Bloody hell, he liked the way it looked atop his, so small and delicate. Liked the way it felt, so warm and soft. Liked the way it seemed as if it belonged there. A displaced piece of a puzzle that he hadn't even known was missing.

He rarely found himself at a loss for words, but this woman had a way of tying his tongue into knots. Of flooding him with such unexpected emotions he couldn't even begin to figure them out, let alone verbalize them. She'd spoken to him as if she considered him some sort of hero-a huge error on her part, as he knew damn well he wasn't. But how could he tell her that? He'd never told anyone…

He dragged his gaze up to hers, and realized by her high color and embarrassed expression that he'd remained silent too long.

"I beg your pardon," she murmured, slipping her hand from his. "I didn't mean to-"

He grabbed her hand and pressed it between his palms. "I'd be honored to have your assistance, Carolyn. Your offer to employ Katie is very generous and your reasoning is both sound and wise. We can put the proposition before her and allow her to decide. As for the animals, you may be sorry you've offered once your calm household is overrun with crazy canines, felines, and the odd rabbit or two. Or twelve. Believe me, chaos will reign."

Her smile was tentative at first, then bloomed fully, and he felt as if the sun had emerged from behind a cloud. "My household could use a bit of chaos. And I'm very fond of animals."

"Excellent. Shall we start you off with four dogs, two cats, and a very mouthy parrot?"

"If I thought you'd part with any of them, I'd take you up on that offer. But 'tis obvious you adore them."

He heaved a sigh and glanced at his four dogs and two cats, which all lay in a huddle on the hearth rug, heads resting on each others' backs and rumps. "Don't know how that motley bunch managed to get under my skin," he grumbled.

"It's because you've a soft spot inside."

"More like a soft spot in my head."

She smiled, and he felt as if he were slipping into a stupor.

Bloody hell, it seemed that he also had a soft spot right where he didn't want one. And had never before had one. Right in his heart.

Well, he'd have to shore up that unexpectedly vulnerable point very quickly because this interlude with Carolyn was nothing more than an affair. A lighthearted, temporary liaison. To even for one moment consider it something more would be the height of foolishness. Her heart belonged to her husband's memory-she'd made that patently clear. His heart was his own-and he'd be wise to keep it that way.

A lighthearted, temporary liaison.

Yes, that's what this was supposed to be.

So why did it suddenly feel so…
un
lighthearted? So… intense? Or
was
it sudden? Had it
always
been so all-consuming? Bloody hell, he didn't know. And why, when he tried to imagine himself with a woman other than Carolyn, did his insides seem to curdle in protest? Why did no other woman's face materialize in his mind?

Again, he didn't know. And damn it, he was afraid to examine those questions too closely for fear of what he'd find.

Chapter Sixteen

Sometimes our lovemaking was slow and leisurely, which I always found enjoyable. But those other times, when it was frantic and wild, when we dragged each other to the floor and yanked at our clothes as if possessed by demons, when he lost all control and the memory of his hard thrusts could still be felt hours later… those were the times I liked best.

Memoirs of a Mistress by An Anonymous Lady

 

W
hen Carolyn arrived home after tea with Daniel, she was greeted by Nelson, who informed her that Sarah, Julianne, and Emily, as well as the trio of Lady Walsh, Lady Balsam, and Mrs. Amunsbury had called during her absence. Carolyn nodded absently, her attention caught by the gorgeous display of roses decorating her foyer. Drawing a deep breath, she closed her eyes and absorbed their heady fragrance.

A blush suffused her at the memory of her sensual carriage encounter with Daniel, and she had to press her lips together to contain her secret smile. The Anonymous Lady's retelling of such a liaison in the
Memoirs
had captivated her, and while the reading of it had been highly stimulating, it couldn't compare to the thrill of the actual experience.

The
Memoirs
… yes, they'd inspired some very heated thoughts. Thoughts she'd very much like to share even more of with Daniel.

An idea occurred to her, a wicked idea so tempting that after a moment's pondering she realized she couldn't resist. She hurried to the drawing room and retrieved her copy of the
Memoirs
from her desk. The strong scent of almonds wafted up from the box of marzipan she'd put in the drawer, and she wrinkled her nose even as guilt hit her. The candy was such a thoughtful gift, even though she much preferred the roses.

After removing the bloom she'd pressed between the pages of the
Memoirs
, she penned a quick note on the back of her calling card, men carefully wrapped the slim volume and card with several sheets of tissue paper that she secured with a piece of satin ribbon.

Daniel had given her a number of gifts. It was time she returned the favor.

She made her way back to the foyer and handed Nelson the package. "I'd like this delivered to Lord Surbrooke as soon as possible."

"Yes, my lady. I'll see to it personally."

"Thank you." She was about to head for her bed-chamber to decide what to wear to Lord and Lady Exbury's soiree that evening when the bell rang, indicating the front gate had been opened.

"'Tis the American gentleman, Mr. Jennsen," Nelson reported after a discreet peek out the slender window flanking the door.

Carolyn didn't ask how Nelson would recognize Mr. Jennsen-her butler seemed to know everyone in town.

"Are you in, my lady?"

Carolyn nodded, curious as to what would bring Mr. Jennsen calling. "Yes. You may show him into the drawing room, then deliver the package to Lord Surbrooke."

She headed down the corridor to the drawing room, where she checked her appearance in the gilt framed mirror. Heavens, she was practically glowing. Thank goodness the weather was good, so she could blame her vivid coloring on the sun, should Mr. Jennsen even notice.

A knock sounded, and at her bid to enter, Nelson opened the door. "Mr. Jennsen to see you, my lady."

The butler stepped back and Mr. Jennsen entered the room. Dressed in buff breeches, a Devonshire brown jacket, and polished black boots, he looked masculine and robust, and the room seemed to somehow shrink due to his commanding presence. His thick, dark hair appeared ruffled, either by his fingers or the wind, lending him a slightly undone air that suited him. She glanced in surprise at the bouquet of vivid pink peonies he held.

"Good afternoon, Lady Wingate," he said.

"Mr. Jennsen, how nice to see you."

"Please call me Logan." He crossed the carpet and extended the bouquet. "For you."

She buried her face in the colorful, fragrant blooms. "They're lovely. Thank you, Logan." She nodded toward the grouping of chairs around the fireplace. "Would you like to sit down?"

"Thank you."

As they settled themselves on the settee, she asked, "Shall I ring for tea?"

"Thank you, Lady Wingate, but I cannot stay long."

"Carolyn, please," she said, placing her flowers on the end table then offering him a smile. "To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

"I heard about the shooting incident outside your home last evening and was concerned."

"Who told you?"

He made a vague gesture with his hand. "Servants talk. You know how quickly gossip travels."

"Well, then you must have also heard that I wasn't injured."

"Yes." He smiled. "But I wanted to see for myself. Between that and Lady Crawford's murder, I was concerned for your safety. Besides, those flowers desperately wanted to belong to a beautiful woman." He leaned closer and confided, "They told me so."

"Talking flowers? How unusual." A smiled tugged at her lips. "I wonder what they'll tell me about you?"

He shot the flowers a mock glare. "Only good things, I hope."

"I'm certain of it," she said with a laugh. "Well, as you can see, I'm no worse for the wear for my mishap last evening."

"No worse indeed," he agreed, his gaze wandering over her. "In fact you're positively… glowing."

His words raced heat directly into her face. Before she could find her voice, he went on, "I understand Surbrooke was with you last night and he wasn't hurt, either."

Heavens, gossip did indeed travel quickly. "One of his servants fell ill, and my maid and I went to his home to offer assistance."

"I didn't realize your maid was with you. I hope she wasn't injured."

Carolyn felt her blush deepen. "She remained at Lord Surbrooke's home through the night. Lord Surbrooke was kind enough to escort me home."

He nodded slowly. "I see."

His dark eyes studied her intently, as if she were a puzzle he were trying to figure out. She took the opportunity to study him as well. His face was a fascinating landscape of stark panes, softened only by his full, sensual mouth. Although he wasn't classically handsome, he exuded an undeniable masculine appeal and was very attractive. As if his dark good looks weren't enough, the air of mystery that surrounded him-no one knew very much about him or his past in America-coupled with his fabulous wealth, made him the object of great interest amongst the ladies of the ton, despite his undesirable colonial heritage. She had no doubt that many a female heart sped up whenever he entered a room.

Which suddenly begged the question: Why didn't he make
her
heart speed up? She liked him and had enjoyed his company at Matthew's house party and on the few occasions she'd seen him since returning to London. He was wry, witty, intelligent, attractive… so why didn't he affect her the same way Daniel did? When she fantasized about the erotic writings from the
Memoirs
, why was the man in her imaginings always Daniel and never Logan?

"Carolyn… I wonder if you could possibly be thinking the same thing I am?"

His question yanked her from her thoughts, and she gave a self-conscious laugh. She was about to assure him that she was certain they weren't thinking the same thing, but the words died in her throat, when he captured her upper arms in his large hands. Drew her close. And settled his mouth on hers.

Her body stiffened with shocked surprise, but after several seconds it became obvious that Logan Jennsen knew how to kiss a woman. Since she suddenly found herself very curious, she allowed herself to relax. And quickly realized that although Logan's technique was exceptional and his kiss perfectly pleasant, it didn't come close to affecting her the way Daniel's did. Indeed, Logan couldn't do to her with a masterful kiss what Daniel was able to do with a mere look.

Oh, dear.

He leaned back, and she opened her eyes and found him regarding her with a half-puzzled, half-surprised expression. His hands slid slowly from her shoulders, then he cleared his throat.

"Do you wish to slap my face?" he asked.

For some reason a bubble of amusement rose in her throat, one for which she was grateful, as it pushed aside her unsettling thoughts. "Do you want me to?"

"'Not particularly."

"I'd prefer an explanation."

"As to why I'd wish to kiss a beautiful woman? It is not difficult to figure out." A frown burrowed his brow and he tapped his index finger against his bottom lip, as if to make certain it was still there. His intense gaze settled on hers. "What did you think?"

Not quite sure how to answer without wounding his feelings, she hedged, "What did
you
think?"

He drew a deep breath, then said, "I'm not good with pretty words the way you Brits are so I'll just spit it out. I've missed my opportunity with more than one woman I've admired since coming to England, and I didn't want to let another one get away. But our kiss wasn't… what I expected."

"What had you expected?"

"Pyrotechnics." A sheepish look crossed his face. "I like you too much not to be perfectly honest with you. I didn't feel any… spark. I'm sorry." He dragged a hand through his hair. "I think you
should
slap my face."

She couldn't help but laugh. "I like
you
too much not to be honest. I didn't feel any spark, either."

He blinked, then smiled. "Really?"

"Really."

"Well." He blew out a sigh of obvious relief then chuckled. "I suppose my manly pride shouldn't allow me to be so happy about that."

"Nor my womanly vanity." She grinned. "You can bear it if I can."

He chuckled. "Agreed. It would it appear we are destined to only be friends."

"So it would appear." And while she was happy for his friendship, she was deeply troubled by what was now patently clear-that what she felt for Daniel obviously ran deeper. She held out her hand. "Friends?"

"Friends." He lifted her hand and brushed a kiss across the backs of her fingers. "
Mon ami
."

Carolyn blinked in surprise. "Do you speak French?"

"As a matter of fact I do."

"Fluently?"

"Yes." His eyes took on a teasing gleam. "Shall I dazzle you with some verb conjugations?"

She pushed aside her troubling thoughts and instead recalled a button-eyed Droopy. "Actually, there are several phrases I'd like very much to learn."

 

"I'm sorry I missed seeing you this afternoon," Sarah said, after greeting Carolyn that evening with a tight hug when they found each other at the crush that was Lord and Lady Exbury's soiree. "I'm very relieved you're all right. What a horrible, frightening episode. Thank goodness Lord Tolliver is in custody and cannot hurt anyone else." Sarah released Carolyn, studied her for several seconds, then pushed up her spectacles and blinked. "I must say, you're looking none the worse for your fright. Indeed, you're positively glowing."

Good heavens. Little had she known that her tryst with Daniel would cause her to still glitter like a candle. She looked at her sister and, after a pause, said, "I could say the same about you, Sarah. You look as if you're lit from within."

Her sister's coloring deepened. She grabbed Carolyn's arm and pulled her into the nearby corner of the crowded drawing room, bypassing snippets of conversation dominated by Lady Crawford's murder.

"Can't believe the killer hasn't yet been apprehended-"

"Surely it won't be long…"

"I heard they think a former lover-"

"-and now another shooting last night-"

Once ensconced in the privacy provided by the dimly lit corner, Sarah said in an undertone, "I know why
I'm
glowing, and it is entirely the fault of that husband of mine, who finally sent me one of those "time and place' notes described in the
Memoirs
?

"Clearly it worked remarkably well."

"You have no idea." Sarah lifted a brow. "What is your excuse?"

It is entirely the fault of your husband's best friend, who demonstrated the "carriage lovemaking" described in the
Memoirs.

Unwilling to say that aloud, Carolyn hesitated. She'd never kept secrets from Sarah, but how could she expect her sister to understand something that she barely understood herself? An attraction so unexpected, yet so powerful it had her acting in ways she never thought herself capable of? An attraction she was beginning to fear might be turning into something more-with a man who'd made it clear he wanted nothing more than an affair.

And what if she told Sarah and her sister disapproved? She didn't think she could bear to see censure in Sarah's eyes. Yet, she couldn't bear the thought of lying to her, either.

Deciding her best recourse was to offer a bit of the truth and gauge Sarah's reaction, she said, "My excuse is that I've been… kissed."

Rather than appearing aghast, Sarah's eyes sparkled with interest. "Indeed? Based on your glow, it must have been a most excellent kiss."

"It was." She barely refrained from heaving a gushy sigh. "Most excellent."

"And who, may I ask, is this excellent kisser?"

Carolyn shook her head, confused. "You're not shocked? Disappointed?"

"Heavens, no. I'm delighted." She moved closer. "So, who was it?"

Humph. While she hadn't wanted to upset Sarah, the very least her sister could have done was act a bit surprised. "Why aren't you scandalized?"

"Because I think you're a beautiful woman who deserves to be kissed and who hasn't been in a very long time."

Sarah's quiet words swelled Carolyn's throat. "In that case, I suppose I must confess mat I was actually kissed by
two
men today."

Sarah's brows shot upward, but instead of appearing appalled, her eyes twinkled. "Heavens, you've had a busy day. So, who are these two extremely intelligent, discerning gentlemen of impeccable taste?"

"How do you know they're intelligent, discerning, and possess good taste?"

"Because they chose
you
to kiss."

Some inner devil prompted Carolyn to hike a single brow and ask, "What makes you think I didn't choose
them
to kiss?"

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