To Catch a Lady (13 page)

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Authors: Pamela Labud

BOOK: To Catch a Lady
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As they made their way through the rambling castle, Caro paid close attention to her surroundings. “I can't understand why anyone would ever want to live in such a place.”

“Slyddon Castle is revered by men far and wide. Considered a retreat, of sorts. You know, a place where men can do, uh, manly things, and not be bothered by the constraints of proper society.”

“In other words, they are in hiding from women.”

Meggie laughed. “Precisely.”

“The question is,” Caro asked, “what do they think about a woman invading their sanctuary?”

Meggie gave her a curious expression. “It seems we shall find out soon enough. After all, Your Grace, you are the first.”

Caro let out a breath. She couldn't help but feel as if she were walking across a lake in winter, the brittle ice beneath her feet near to cracking. One wrong step, and she risked never seeing dry land again.

And what if her husband decided that they would never go back to London?

How would she ever make a life in this place?

—

The evening was well under way when Ash took his seat at dinner. A large table had been set with roasted hare, pheasant, ham and boiled beef, Turkish figs, pickled eggs, boiled rice pudding, and baked plums. As the staff scurried about serving them, Mr. Chadwick, Slyddon's butler, brought out two bottles of port to go with their meal.

Ash leaned over to him and spoke in a low voice. “Has anyone gone to fetch the duchess?”

“Yes, Your Grace. I've sent Meggie after her. They should be here momentarily.”

Smiling, Ash motioned for his servant to begin serving the wine. “Forgive the delay, gentlemen. I'm told my wife shall be making her appearance soon.”

A mild rumble of acknowledgment went around the room. Ash could tell that his friends, though polite, were uneasy about meeting the newest member of his household.

Gordon Higgins cleared his throat. “There are those, Your Grace, who might insinuate that you have violated the sanctity of Slyddon by bringing your wife here.”

A man of medium build and height, he was considered to be the king of local gentry. A landowner, Higgins depended on his wife and his banker to keep his affairs in order, and spent at least half of the year at the lodge. By his own admission, it was the best way to appease Mrs. Higgins, as she was of strong opinions and ever more resolute about how their estate should be managed.

Ash sighed. “It's true. I established this lodge as a place for men to visit unaccompanied by their spouses and fiancées. I promise you, gentlemen, nothing is changed by my newly married status. By the end of the month my wife will return to London, and if I am successful in my endeavors, I will be able to stay on here.”

“Good show, Your Grace. We are very pleased to hear that.” Baron Richard Strother, a tall, wiry man of advanced years, had been a member of Ash's hunting party from the very beginning. Married from a young age, he was the father of ten daughters and two sons, and had more reason than anyone else present to be concerned about Slyddon's fate. He'd often been heard declaring that escaping his home and family was tantamount to his very survival.

“But Your Grace, you would separate from your new bride after merely a month?” Lord Thornton Danby asked. The youngest son of Clarence Danby, Earl of Latimer, sat forward. “That is a bit disconcerting. She is a lovely girl, and though we only glimpsed her wearing a quilt, I would assume she is a woman of quality and grace.” He drew a quick breath. “She would have to be, as she was chosen by you, old friend.”

Ash smiled. Although still a bachelor and aged into his fifties, Danby was indeed the romantic of the group.

“My wife and I have formed a business arrangement. Once she is with child she will return to London and I will continue my life here.”

The men at the table stared at him for a moment, clearly dumbstruck. Then, a cheer went around the table.

Ash relaxed and lifted his glass of wine to toast his friends. “To Slyddon Castle! May she always remain unchanged.”

Chapter 12

At last Caro had reached the main dining hall. With the same décor as the rest of the castle, it was clearly designed for men. In the center of the room sat a long, square oak table and chairs. Over a wooden sideboard along one wall hung even more paintings of men hunting. Opposite the dining table, in a giant fireplace that took up the entire width of the room, a warm blaze burned. The wall above the fireplace held a giant mural of a deer in the woods, its antlers as wide as the painting.

“Gentlemen,” Caro said as she entered the room. “I hope you'll forgive my lateness. I've not yet learned my way around the, uh, lodge.”

Ash and his friends immediately rose to their feet at her appearance. Stepping forward, the duke led his wife to her seat beside his at the head of the table.

“Welcome, Caroline. I thought it best to host an informal dinner in order to introduce you to our guests. That way, when you encounter them again during our stay, you will feel more comfortable.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. I appreciate your thoughtfulness.” Caro nodded around the table and then took her seat. The men all stood to attention until she was settled.

“Caroline, let me present our guests.” Over the next few minutes, her husband introduced the men around the table, each man nodding formally in turn.

Caro did her best to smile and tamp down on the anxiety that had built up in her since their last meeting.

“Gentlemen, it's a pleasure to meet you all.”

“Your Grace. Duchess,” Strother said, “let me be the first to congratulate you on your recent nuptials. When you are back in London, please come for a visit to Downing Hall. My wife would love to meet you.”

“Thank you, good sir. I will do that.” Caro watched her husband's expression closely. He was pleased at her friendliness.

“And this stately fellow is Sir Gordon Higgins, another friend of mine who often makes Slyddon his second home.”

“Dear lady,” he said, bowing his head.

Despite the men's congeniality, Caro's unease at being the center of their attention was increasing by the moment.

“I believe,” Ashton said, pointing to the other two men, “you have already become acquainted with these two scoundrels.” Though his tone belied no anger, he did clear his throat as the two introduced themselves.

“A thousand pardons, Duchess,” Danby sputtered. “We didn't know that His Grace had married, let alone that he had brought his bride home with him.”

“And such a lovely bride, indeed,” Strother added.

“I am pleased to meet you,” Caro said, “especially over the dinner table and not His Grace's bed.”

Both men blinked, red faced and coughing. “Let me assure you, that will not happen again.”

Caro crossed her arms. “I'm sure it won't.”

A few uneasy moments passed before her husband spoke again, but bit by bit, the amiable atmosphere returned. It was clear that these gentlemen were very close, and once they'd begun talking again, it was as if they'd forgotten she was present.

They were almost finished with the first course, a lovely oxtail soup and fresh bread, when another gentleman entered the dining room.

Ash started to rise, but the man put out his hand. “Your Grace, please. I apologize to you and the duchess, but I was detained this afternoon. I was fishing when one of our neighbors stopped by. The next thing I knew we were having quite a resolute conversation, he on the ground and I in the tree.”

“Dear heavens,” Caro said. “Who would do such a thing? And whatever did you do?”

“It wasn't so much what I did, but I had packed some pickled herring and apples, and our neighbor decided to help himself. I merely had to wait until he'd finished his repast.”

“Who is this brute? Surely he knows you're a guest here?”

The men at the table chuckled.

Caro felt the heat of her own embarrassment rising on her skin.

The duke reached out to her. “It's not exactly who, but rather what. A black bear, I presume?”

“Yes, and the devil was quite insistent on having his way about it.”

“There are bears on the grounds?”

“Not indigenous to the area, no, but ten years ago a traveling zoo came through and their stock got loose. They only captured three out of the ten. The others have been rather prolific. We manage to trap two or three each season, but a few still remain. Not to worry, we'll catch them.”

“Sounds terribly dangerous.”

“Not really,” the stranger said. “They come out when there is food. As long as you don't have a full basket, they keep their distance.”

“And this, Caro, is one of my dearest friends, Duncan Albright, Earl of Applegate.”

The fine-looking young man bowed formally. “Pleased to meet you, Duchess.”

“And you as well. I'm sure you're hungry after losing your lunch this afternoon. Won't you join us for dinner?”

“I would be very pleased, Your Grace.”

The remainder of the dinner continued, and, to her delight, Duncan was a most animated speaker and showed no mercy when telling tales on his counterparts. He also went to great lengths to include Caro in his conversation.

When at last the meal ended, the gentlemen left rather abruptly, and at long last Caro and Ash were alone together.

“Thank you for a pleasant time,” Caro said as she sipped her glass of wine. She had barely touched her meal, her anxiety over meeting so many strangers crushing her appetite. That and the fact that every time she looked up from her plate, she saw her husband watching her. At first it was with a curious glance, and then later on, he wore another expression. His eyes narrowed, and she felt as if they were boring holes through her.

Now that they were finally alone, her mouth was dry and a strange feeling stirred in her stomach. She was anxious and excited all at the same time. What in blazes was wrong with her?

“Your Grace,” she started, but the words seemed to stick in her throat.

He held up his hand. “There's no need to explain. I know this situation is a great deal harder for you than for me. Is that why you moved your things from my room?”

Caro swallowed. “Your room. That's just it, Your Grace. It is your room. As it is your house. Your forest. Your life. I fear I have no place in it, save for your bed. Until the child is conceived, anyway.”

“Ash,” he said, his tone quiet but firm. “My name is Ash. Stop all this titled nonsense. I'm your husband and I don't believe you can get more familiar than that. Caroline.”

“Caro. My family calls me Caro.”

“I like Caroline. It fits you, somehow.”

Again her face heated. He was being obstinate. “I really don't care what you call me.”

Suddenly a smile popped up on his face. “That's the girl I knew. A spitfire to the end.”

“If you say so, Your—uh, Ash.”

His smile grew broader. “You haven't eaten much tonight,” he said, pointing to her plate and glass.

Her ease evaporated. The night ahead loomed large in front of her. “I'm not very hungry.”

“Of course. Perhaps later.”

Silence grew between them. Caro felt as if she were going to die on the spot. She knew the time had come for her to fulfill her part of the contract. Not that it was a bad exchange. It wasn't. Her reputation, her family's well-being, enough income to live on and never worry about the future.

All she would ever need or want, in exchange for her giving him use of her body long enough to produce a child. At best it would be weeks, at worst, a year or more, if she could conceive at all.

If she could survive another night with him. In his bed…

Panic rose in her again.

Ash cleared his throat. “It's not going to be as bad as all that. I promise.”

“What?” she squeaked.

“What we must do. Tonight, I mean. It's not as bad as all that. I've been told I'm quite good with the ladies.”

“Oh.” She took another drink of her wine. “You've had much experience? Being with women, I mean?”

It was his turn to blush, but he didn't look away. “I was a soldier, you know. And, just in case you're wondering, I never engaged a woman's services for money. My, uh, dalliances, if you will, were strictly affairs of the heart.”

“You don't have a mistress?”

He laughed. “You are direct, aren't you? No. I find that even a relationship with a kept woman requires too much of a man. Any woman, whether she's a farmer's daughter, a highly paid prostitute, or a baron's sister, requires far too much investment in time, money, and adoration for me to become entangled with.”

Caro wrinkled her brow. “That's a bit harsh, isn't it?”

He shrugged. “Any more than an heiress marrying to fulfill her family obligations?”

“I suppose you're right. We are all taught about the wonders of love, but very few of us ever manage to obtain it.”

“A damned good thing, if you ask me. Too much passion can only lead to loss of control. If that happens, then lives run willy-nilly. In the end, everyone suffers.”

“Oh.” Caro bit her lip. So, love and real affection were not a consideration. She knew there was little chance of her husband loving her. So be it. At least Caro wouldn't have to waste her feelings on him, either.

“So, I suppose we should retire to the bedroom, then,” he said.

Though her stomach plummeted, Caro nodded. “As you wish, Your Grace—I mean, Ashton.”

Nodding to her once, he stood and held his hand out to her. “My lady Caroline,” he said.

Licking dry lips, Caro put her hand up to take it but stopped at the last second.

“Don't be afraid. I promise, it won't be that bad.”

“I'm not afraid,” she said, irritated that her heart quickened at even the thought of his touching her.

“Then what's wrong?”

It was a simple enough question. And one she wasn't sure she knew the answer to. “Nothing,” she said at the last.

But when she thought about it, it really wasn't what he said or what he did that upset her. It was him. The way she felt heat on her skin whenever he looked at her. Or perhaps it was how he said her name, pronouncing it in a way she'd heard no other speak it. But more than all that, what unsettled her was the sense of disarray, her own mixed and muddled anxiety whenever he was near.

He made her feel as if she couldn't take a deep breath. She wanted to run but she wanted to stay as well. It was a damned annoying thing, the way he made her feel.

Would she never know peace again?

—

Since his parents' deaths, Ash had thought there was no worse a thing than a passionate marriage. He'd often seen his mother and father together, one moment shouting and cursing at each other, the next arm in arm, kissing and holding on as though no disruption had ever existed between them.

“Do you need to fetch something for sleep? A nightdress or some such thing?”

His bride drew in a breath. “I told Meggie to wait in my room, I mean, your aunt's room. She will assist me with my hair and gown.”

They now stood in the hall, both rooms visible. Ash took hold of her hand, drew it to his mouth, and gently kissed her knuckles. She smelled as sweet as gardenias, and with his eyes cast down, he saw her tremble at his touch. He was pleased to think that she, too, was anticipating their evening together.

When he met her stare with his own, she gasped. Large brown eyes that reminded him of a gentle doe stared nervously back at him. The shimmer of perspiration on her made her skin glow in the candlelight.

“I promise,” she said, her voice trembling and unsure, “I shall only be a moment.”

“Of course.” Reluctantly, he let go of her hand and watched, mesmerized, as she spun round and disappeared into the other room.

Once she was gone, it felt as if his breath had been sucked out of him. Turning, he walked the few steps to his own room. Once inside, he rang for his valet.

“Yes, Your Grace?”

“Did you draw the bath as I asked?”

“All is ready.”

“And the duchess?”

“Her water was brought up ten minutes ago.”

“Good. I'm hoping she'll enjoy herself. I think it'll help relax things a bit. Is the champagne chilled?”

“I've had them bring in extra ice from the ice house.”

“Good. Hopefully, things will go smoothly from here on.”

Half an hour later, bathed, dressed in his night robe, and feeling as if he were ready to do battle, Ash stood in the hall once again and gently tapped on Caroline's bedroom door.

“A moment,” she said, her voice timid once again.

A few minutes later, the door cracked open. Only it wasn't his bride that appeared, but her maid.

“Yes?” Ash had the suspicion growing in his gut that things weren't going to go as planned.

“It's her ladyship, Your Grace. She's not feeling well.”

“Taken to her bed, has she?”

“Yes, sir. She sends her apologies.”

“Damn.” Ash groaned. She was making him feel like a cad. She had agreed to the contract, had she not? Why couldn't she just be rational about things?

—

Despite her brave face earlier in the evening, Caro couldn't help but cry for most of the night. She was the worst sort of coward. It wasn't like her to back out of her commitments.

And yet, once the door had closed and she was no longer touched by him, panic shot through her like lightning. Her pillow soaked with tears, it was just before dawn when she finally dozed off.

Not long after she'd fallen asleep, she was aroused by a loud knocking at her door.

“Caroline,” Ash called out from the other side. “We need to settle this between us.”

Caro groaned. Judging by the way he slurred his words, she could tell he was drunk.

She'd never been exposed to drunkenness, though her mother had told her plenty about it. A distant cousin had had a bad reputation for overindulging in drinking and gambling. He had disgraced the entire family.

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