Desiring Lady Caro (14 page)

“Who is it?”

“It’s probably Maufe, but on the off chance it’s not, slip out that side.” He motioned to the other side of the bed. “Go into the dressing room. I’ll call for Nugent.” He sat up and shoved his arms into the banyan. “Go, before you see me nude.”

“You remember,” she said, “I have seen you as you were born.”

Raising a brow, he forbore answering. Though Caro had seen him naked, she’d never seen him naked with a stiff shaft. He was finally starting to make a little progress; it wouldn’t do to scare her.

She had such a nice bottom, it was all he’d been able to do to keep from stroking it, but thinking of that wouldn’t help his current problem. “Er, yes, but it’s a little different now.”

Caro’s eyes widened in confusion. “How so?”

He wasn’t ready to have this discussion. Fortunately, the door opened, and it was Maufe.

“My lord. Dinner will be served soon.”

Slipping out of the bed with his back to her, Huntley quickly pulled his banyan together and lost no time striding to his dressing room. “Maufe, please call Nugent. Her ladyship needs to prepare for dinner.” Though what Caro would wear other than another nightgown, Huntley didn’t know. “I’ll be back soon.”

He washed quickly and was already in a pair of pantaloons when his valet arrived. His budding desire for his wife, previously dampened by her illness, had surged back with a force that shook him. It hadn’t been that long since he’d had a woman. Venice had been populated with willing widows and neglected wives.
Damn
. Fate was determined to have her way with him. Right now, all he wanted to do was make love with his own wife and he couldn’t.

His valet handed him a shirt and Huntley drew it over his head. Somehow, he must convince Caro to allow him to continue sleeping with her. “Maufe, see if her ladyship’s ready. I’m starving.”

Maufe bowed. “Yes, my lord. I am sure Miss Nugent has everything in hand.”

Huntley grimaced. He’d be taking himself in hand soon.

A few minutes later, he entered Caro’s chamber and stopped. His stomach clenched as if he’d been punched. Letting out a breath, he remembered to take one again. He’d not had this reaction to her since he first saw her.

Caro was dressed in a pale pink dressing gown of silk and lace. Her long curls were tied demurely back with a darker pink ribbon. Though still pale from her illness, she seemed to be improving, and she’d never appeared more beautiful. His desire surged.

Strolling slowly forward, he took her hand and bent over it. “My lady. You look particularly fetching.”

A blush rose slowly into her cheeks. “Thank you. Nugent said this was the only thing I had to wear as all the others were being laundered.”

His appreciation for Nugent was increasing by the day, and he wondered what was beneath the dressing gown. “I’m not surprised, as many as you went through.”

He kissed her fingers, then helped her to a chair at the table before taking his own seat. Maufe had been pressed to serve the soup. “You may leave after this, Maufe. I shall serve her ladyship.”

“Yes, my lord.” He bowed and left the room.

Caro took a sip. “What is this, do you know?”

The soup was a broth with tiny balls floating in it. “Yes. The broth is either beef or oxen and the balls are from the marrow. The doctor suggested it.”

“Well, it’s very good.” She took another swallow. “Do you know what else I’ll be allowed to eat?”

“Something more substantial than just soup, I hope. I’ll take a look when you’re finished.”

Until her stomach got used to solid food again, Caro wouldn’t be able to eat much. He watched as she slowly finished the bowl. “Are you still hungry?”

She smiled. “Yes, and I know that’s a good sign.”

“A very good sign.” Rising, he took the lids off the other dishes on a side table. “We have a chicken dish with small noodles, and a puréed vegetable.”

Her face fell. She reminded him of a small child. “No chocolate?”

Huntley gave a bark of laughter. “Maybe to-morrow. Let’s see how you handle this first. You don’t need to have a relapse.”

She raised sorrowful eyes to him. “Nugent always said I was a bad patient.” Caro sighed. “I’ll do as you say, my lord.”

Handing her a plate, he grinned. “Eat what you can. Afterwards, if you like, I’ll read to you while you rest.”

Huntley took note of how much she ate, then cajoled her to eat a little more. Caro had lost a fair amount of weight, and she needed to put some back on. When she’d finished, he picked her up in his arms.

“Oh,” she gasped. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you to bed.”

“Huntley, I
can
walk.”

Not if he could carry her, she wouldn’t. “Of course you can, but why exhaust yourself?”

There would be no backsliding on his progress with her. He was well aware that if she hadn’t been so ill, he would never have gotten this far already. He shrugged. “I’m used to doing it. You can walk later. Right now, you should conserve your strength.”

He turned sideways, maneuvering her through the door to her chamber.

Caro leaned her head against his shoulder. “I suppose you’re right. I shouldn’t overtire myself.”

“Exactly.” He set her down on the bed. “Give me your wrapper. I’ll put it over the chair.”

He held his breath. She did as he asked. Underneath was a nightgown of the same silk, with just a little band of lace around the neck. No English modiste had made that confection, and it damn well wasn’t designed to sleep in. His blood coursed through his veins, and his groin twitched, reminding him it was still interested. Half his brain was concentrating solely on his nether parts. Huntley ruthlessly tamped down his desire. “In you go. I’ll get the book you were reading.”

Caro slipped under the covers. “Do you know which one it is?”

He reached out for the marble-covered tome. “Yes, I’ve been reading it to you, and I’m almost finished, but I’ll start where you left off before you became ill.”

She colored prettily again. “It’s a romance.”

“So I discovered.” Toeing off his slippers, he got in beside her.

“Do you like it?”

He picked up the book and opened it to the page mark. “I don’t
dislike
it.”

Though with an evil count and an innocent maiden, it bore too much resemblance to his life right now. Yet, in the novel, the hero did not have to beg for his lady’s affection. A few pages into the story, Caro was asleep, breathing softly, and he closed the book. Huntley stripped off his clothes and stretched out next to her. Her long, pale, wheat-colored curls were still confined by a pink ribbon.

“You don’t need this.” Huntley untied the strip of material, tossing it over his shoulder. He pressed his lips to her silken locks before running his fingers through them and spreading her hair out over the pillows. His gaze traced her smooth forehead, straight nose, and her rosy lips. Perfect. Drawing Caro next to him, he tucked her into his side. If he had anything to say about it, and he’d make damn sure he did, this was where she’d sleep for the rest of her life.

H
untley awoke. The moon made a path across the floor. He figured it to be not long after midnight. During the time he’d spent nursing Caro, he’d left orders for the bed hangings and window drapes to be left open at night so there’d be some light if he needed to get up. Somehow, Caro had moved too far from him.

“Come here.” He wiggled his arm under her and brought her closer. The soft silk of her nightdress rubbed against him. His body flamed with need, and he groaned. God, he wanted her, but first she’d have to become used to his touch. Like breaking a skittish horse to saddle but, with her fears, much more difficult. His precious, broken wife. It would take all his considerable expertise to get her to the point where she desired him as much as he did her.

He ran a hand down her graceful form, vowing he’d buy her more of these silk things. He possessively cupped one of her breasts and slipped back into sleep.

When he woke, Caro stirred in his arms and muttered indignantly, “Oh.”

They were both on their sides. One of his hands was still on her breast and the other was anchoring her hips to him. He kept his breathing steady and pretended to be asleep, waiting to see what she’d do.

“Well,” she said, “his hands really do go everywhere when he’s asleep.”

He smiled. Breathing deeply, he forced himself not to laugh, and let out a light whistle as if he was still not awake.

She plucked at the hand holding her breast, and he took the opportunity to tighten his grip on her. When he rubbed his thumb lightly over her nipple, it pebbled nicely at the attention.

A small shiver ran through her, and her breast became fuller. She sighed. “Ah. That feels good. How does he do that in his sleep?”

Her small response mattered more to him than he would have thought possible just a week ago. The small kernel of hope he harbored grew as she remained in bed, allowing him to fondle her. He wanted her to experience pleasure and desire. Perhaps he wasn’t destined to spend the rest of his life celibate after all. Well, that wasn’t quite fair. She
had
offered him an heir. Though he was quite sure if she could manage to get with child without him touching her, she’d have leapt at the chance.

No. She was his wife, and he’d be damned if he’d have sexual congress with her on sufferance. Before he was done, she’d want him every bit as much as he longed for her. His groin twitched. A craving that was growing daily.

“Nugent was right,” she said. “It is not his fault.”

He didn’t know how much Caro was paying her maid, but he’d double it.

“Oh dear, I have to get up. There must be a way to do it without waking him.”

He threw the arm that was around her hip over his head, as though to reposition himself while asleep. Released, she scurried out of bed and behind the screen. He cracked an eye and waited for her to return. When she finally climbed back onto the mattress, he let out the breath he’d held, and his body relaxed. She may still be weak, but she was no longer ill, and she’d come to him. Progress. Before too much longer, she would be his, completely.

As Caro got into bed, she slid down the slight indentation and landed sprawled half on top of Huntley. Her nightclothes hitched up above her knees. “Oh my.”

He lifted her as if she were a doll rather than a grown woman. When his hand slid along her hip, tucking her back against his side, she braced for the shudder of revulsion but instead experienced a pleasant tingle as she sank against him, taking solace from his warmth.

What did it mean? When did she begin to like being next to him? If she were to leave him, this wasn’t good. “Huntley,” she whispered. “Are you awake?”

Some part of his head nuzzled against hers. “Everything will be fine. Go to back to sleep, my love.”

Why did he call her
my love
when he was not in love with her?

The soft whistle of his breath tickled her ear, and she mumbled to herself, “I really must discuss this with him. We cannot continue to sleep together.” Yawning, she sank into him more fully. “In the morning.”

When she awoke, Huntley was gone. It wasn’t the fleeting thought that there was something she wanted to tell him that disturbed her, but her peevishness at waking alone. She missed him holding her. Caro stopped herself from pouting but couldn’t keep the tears from stinging her eyes. This must be a sign she was still not quite recovered from her illness. Why else would she want him near her so?

Before she could delve further into her unwanted reaction, Nugent was by the bed. “Are you in pain, my lady?”

Caro shook her head. She would not tell Nugent the cause of her distress. Where was he? “No. I’m just not feeling quite the thing.”

With her normal stoic countenance, Nugent said, “That’s no surprise. Come, my lady, your bath is ready.”

She crawled to the edge of the bed and swung her legs out. “Where is his lordship?”

“Bathing. He said he’d do himself the pleasure of breaking his fast with you.” Nugent searched the bed. “What did you do with your ribbon?”

“Nothing. I didn’t touch it.”

Her dresser bent to pick something up from the floor. “Here it is. You could have just put it on the table.”

“But I didn’t . . .”

Her maid gathered her hair and pinned it up before helping her from the bed. “Can you walk by yourself?”

“I think so.” Caro took one tentative step and then another. Well, that was something, at least. “Yes, I’ll be fine.”

As she sank into the warm water, a memory teased her. She frowned and reached for a piece of linen and the soap Nugent had placed on a nearby stool. “I remember being in a tub with cool water.”

“Yes, my lady. You had a cold bath . . . sometimes several times a day.”

“I’m sorry to have been so much trouble.”

Nugent was busying herself with something in the wardrobe and didn’t turn around. “It wasn’t me, my lady.”

Caro started to wash and stopped. If Nugent didn’t bathe her . . . “Oh no! Who did?”

“I’ve already told you—his lordship.”

Nugent turned and gave her the same stern look she’d given Caro since she was three. “That’s what I said.”

Heat rose in her face and chest, and her heart thudded uncomfortably. “How could you have allowed him to—to bathe me?”

Nugent shook out something in a shimmering pale blue and laid it across a chair. “Maybe you’d like to tell me how I was to stop him.
I
couldn’t lift you, and we had to get your fever down.” She paused for a moment before continuing. “He also helped me undress you after you decided to drink too much.”

Caro wanted to submerge herself under the water and never come up. She wished she could forget he’d seen her inebriated. Tenting her fingers over her forehead, she sank further down into the tub. Nugent was right. She couldn’t have done it herself. But why would he . . . “I think you’d better tell me everything.”

“I’ve already told you, my lady. His lordship nursed you the whole time you were ill. He would only allow me to help him.” Nugent’s voice softened. “He never left your side. I’m amazed he didn’t take ill himself.”

Caro had helped tend her younger brothers and sisters when they were sick, and the enormity of what Huntley had done amazed her. “But I do not understand why he would take on such a burden.”

“That,” Nugent said with her usual briskness, “is something you’ll have to ask his lordship, and before you do, try to remember he
is
your husband. Now finish washing. It’s not good to keep a man from his food.”

Caro took the towel from the stool and held it to her as she stepped out of the tub. Once dried, she held her hand out for her nightclothes and received another silk gown. She flushed with embarrassment. “Where are my other ones?”

“Drying. Takes a while when it’s so cold.”

Slipping it on over her head and reaching for the wrapper, she frowned. “I don’t remember buying this.”

“You didn’t. Lady Horatia bought them for you.”

Caro was tired of asking why, and she was even more tired of not having any answers that made sense. Huntley did not want their marriage any more than she did. What would make him care for her? Oh, he said it was because she was his wife, yet was that really the reason? And just because she liked having Huntley around and being held by him, didn’t mean she’d allow him to have marital relations with her more than once.

Caro pressed her hands to her eyes. He’d said it may take more than once. She shook her head.
I can’t. I just cannot
. Caro shoved the thought away. When—
if
—the time came, she’d deal with it then. For now, she should concentrate on getting well.

Huntley ambled into
their
bedchamber, as he now thought of it, wearing a brightly embroidered banyan. Caro continued to rest, and he had every intention of remaining with her.

Breakfast had already been brought, and she was seated at the table. Her eyes lit with laughter when she saw him. “You’re very colorful.”

Taking her hand, he kissed it and smiled. “It’s all the crack. Do you like it?”

Returning his smile, she replied, “I do indeed.” She started to giggle. “You remind me of a peacock.”

He enjoyed seeing her so happy. “I don’t recall ever seeing a red peacock.” On the other hand, perhaps she was only amused by his dressing gown. “Breakfast here consists of meats, cheeses, bread, and soft-boiled eggs, as well as yogurt. Would you like to sample a little of everything?”

“Oh yes, please. I’m much hungrier this morning. What is yogurt?”

“It is milk that’s been cooked for several hours. The one here is flavored with honey. It’s quite good and, from what I’ve been told, a remedy for stomach problems.” He’d never known a woman who had the same interest in food as he did and was adventurous as well. He spooned some in a bowl for her and watched as she tasted it. “Do you like it?”

Caro smiled. “Yes, I do.”

His stomach growled, and he ate quickly while keeping an eye on how much his wife consumed. The sooner she regained her strength, the faster they could leave. He wanted to remove to Innsbruck as soon as possible and plan for their onward journey.

Caro smiled. “I think I’m well enough to dress and walk around.”

She was still too weak. He stifled his impulse to disagree—that would only put up her back—and attempted to phrase his answer more diplomatically. “I agree. You seem much stronger, but we are under doctor’s orders. I’m afraid you must rest until he arrives and gives you permission to try a short walk around the hotel.”

Caro’s face fell for a moment, then brightened. “You said he’d be here this afternoon?”

He nodded. “If you rest this morning, you are sure to convince him you are recovered enough to take some exercise.”

“Very well,” she agreed. “I’ll rest now.”

“Allow me to escort you to the bed.” He went to Caro and helped her up from the chair before offering his arm. “Come, my lady.”

She placed her hand on it but leaned on him rather more heavily than he liked. She was not yet as strong as she needed to be to continue their journey. Huntley helped her remove her wrapper and, once she was under the cover, climbed in after her, tucking her into his side. “Comfortable?”

“Yes, thank you.” She paused for a moment, her face turned a light pink, and she played with the sheet, twisting it in her fingers. “Huntley?”

“Um?” He lightly kissed her temple.

“Nugent said you—you bathed me when I was ill.”

He had told her, but she’d probably still been too sick to remember. “I took care of all your needs. Let me tell you, my lady, you are not the easiest person to feed when you’re in a temper.”

Caro chuckled. “Was I that bad? Nugent says I’m a horrible patient.”

He grinned. “You were, but not as bad as my youngest sister was last winter.”

Turning a bit, she gazed up at him. “Will you tell me about your sister?”

He kissed her brow and settled her back against his arm. “After Christmas, the whole house seemed to come down with influenza. Even my father was pressed to help, and he doesn’t have the temperament for it. He tried to bully my sister, Alison, into taking her medicine, and she threw it back at him. Of course, his idea was to give her the vial.”

Caro chuckled a little. “Did you rescue him?”

“In a manner of speaking.” He used a dry tone. “I relieved him of his duties.”

Caro turned and seemed to study him. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

Her eyes were so blue, deeper than usual. His heart seemed to be clogging his throat. There was no way he would not have nursed her. He kept his voice as soft as a caress. “Caro, may I kiss you?”

She stared at him for a few moments, but it seemed like an eternity. “Yes.”

Huntley had never seduced an innocent before. Her rape didn’t count as experience. Opening his senses to her, he took in her faint lavender and lemon scent. He shifted her closer to him and barely touched his lips to the corner of her mouth before lightly brushing them against hers. Hesitantly, she moved her lips on his. He fluttered kisses on her mouth and jaw. Caro sighed. Firming his lips, he moved back to her mouth and ended the kiss. “Thank you.”

Caro’s cheeks were flushed. “I’ve never had a kiss like that. It was as if you really meant it.”

“Perhaps because I did mean it.” He glanced down at her. Was there more to his wife’s resistance than the rape? He tried to keep his tone light. “Have you had many kisses?”

She sighed again. “No, and none that I really liked, except that one.”

“Ah. If you don’t object, I plan to kiss you some more.” She turned to him. Her brows were drawn together and raised, as if she didn’t understand what he was saying. “Not now, but over the course of the next week.”

Her eyes closed and she cuddled next to him. “I don’t understand,” she said groggily, and her breathing deepened as she succumbed to sleep.