To Catch a Lady (16 page)

“Good. Now, we seemed to have reached a sort of agreement here. Do you think we might make it through this one day?”

“We definitely have taken a small step in the direction of cooperation.”

“Fine. What else would you like to discuss. Politics? No, I think not. We might have too many differences there. Wouldn't want to lose any ground after our efforts thus far.”

Caro chuckled. “I fear I would drive you mad with my opinions, when it comes to the welfare of women. But beyond that, I've no care for anything political.”

“To be honest, I've not much care for politics myself, I assure you. My interests go no further than the boundaries of this forest.”

“Tell me about this place. Its history, for instance.”

“Oh, I know precious little of that, I'm afraid. Now, Lord Danby—he could tell you quite a bit. But when he rattles on, I tend to doze off—as does everyone within fifteen feet of him.”

“And yet you love it here.”

“I do, and I've my uncle to thank for that. He brought my cousin and me hunting and fishing here many times when we were boys. The very best memories I have were of those nights we spent together. Then, after I got back from Spain, my uncle gave it to me. Said I was the only one who would love and care for it as much as he did.”

“It sounds like the best present he could have given you.”

“It was. There's a charm to this place. Beyond the perimeter of the grounds, life goes on without any thought for human concerns. Kings hold no court here, society dictates nothing. It's just a peaceful existence.”

“It sounds almost like Heaven.”

“I'd like to show it to you, if you don't mind.”

“Well, I'm not really a person who appreciates the outdoors, you know. I mean, the most wilderness I've experienced is in Lady Hadley's garden.”

“Then you are missing a great deal, I assure you.”

Caro held her breath. What was he planning? Did he mean to take her into the woods and set up camp as the men did? She didn't think she could bear that.

And yet, he was offering to share something deeply personal. It would be wrong of her to refuse him.

“Very well. I shall leave it to you to introduce me to the forest life.”

She could almost feel his smile through the door.

“Don't worry. I shan't do anything too extreme. Shall we start with a lunch beside the lake? Day after tomorrow, perhaps?”

“I think that would be all right,” Caro said.

“Good. I need to leave Slyddon tomorrow. There are a few things I want to pick up in the village. It's half a day's journey and I won't be back until late evening.”

“Very well.”

“You sound tired.”

Caro let out a slow breath. “I'm afraid I am. And not good company, either.”

“Nonsense. I've enjoyed our talk. But I don't wish to tire you overmuch. Get some rest. I can have the servants bring you a light supper, if you want.”

“Thank you. I wonder, do you think there's any of that tasty oxtail soup left?”

“I assure you, that's Cook's standard fare. She always keeps it fresh and handy.”

“Thank you.”

“You are most welcome.”

Caro placed her hand on the door next to her. She closed her eyes and imagined that he sat opposite of her, his hand on the other side. Touching and yet not touched.

Like before, when she felt his nearness, it set her body humming. If being this close to him was like that, what would happen when they really made love?

She remembered their brief moments in the pond that morning. The thrill of being in his arms, the heat of his kiss on her mouth, and her urgency to open for him had nearly overwhelmed her. So different from their coupling in the carriage.

He both excited her and frightened her.

But Caro by nature was a cautious woman. It was the way she'd lived all of her life. She was careful with her accounts. She was careful with her mother and sister. And, after one disastrous courtship, she was absolutely zealous when it came to protecting her heart.

So the very thought of losing herself in any situation was paralyzing. Somehow, instinctively, she knew that with Ash, more than anyone else, she risked a great deal. And yet the rewards, the chance for a life she'd had no hope of a few days earlier, dangled before her like a sparkling diamond on a string.

The question was, did she have the strength to reach for it? Should she even dare to try?

“Until tomorrow, then?” he asked

Caro swore she could feel his smile through the door. “Yes.”

“Until then…”

“Ash,” she blurted out, “I enjoyed our talk tonight. Might we meet here again, like this, tomorrow night?”

“I'll look forward to it.”

And she would, too.

Ash paused only a moment longer outside her door, listening to the soft noises of her rustling gown as she went to her bed. The sounds of her settling onto the mattress, pulling the linen around her, scooting beneath the covers was like music to him.

With any luck, it wouldn't be long before she was climbing onto his bed, lying beside him, wrapped in his sheets, in his arms.

“Ah, Lady Caroline,” he whispered, “you do vex me.”

He knew it was a good vexing, all things considered. Of course, he didn't love her, or she him, but in their few days together they'd begun to form an affection for each other. When they weren't arguing, they even shared good conversation.

Not only that, he knew that their newly developed truce would go a long way toward keeping them together. More than that, telling her about his family, about his loss and his love for his aunt had felt right, somehow.

Caroline had a good ear, and it was clear she was a woman who had great capacity for love and no end of compassion when it came to caring for others. Both were very respectable traits, indeed.

Before leaving, he laid his hand on the door for a few seconds more and remembered what it had been like to hold her.

Amazing, he thought. She'd been pure Heaven in his arms.

Pushing away from the door, he headed toward his own room. His headache had eased a great deal, but in his heart was the aching of another sort. Oddly enough, he didn't really mind it. It had a sweet essence, much like Caroline had.

“Thank the heavens that I'm not falling in love with her.”

Caro slept very well that night, dreaming of a quiet sea and shimmering moonlight. She saw her husband there, waving to her on the beach. Beckoning her to join him. She awakened to a light tapping on her door.

“Your Grace,” Meggie said on the other side. “I have your breakfast. His Grace had it made special for you.”

Caro rose from her bed and opened the door for her servant. “That was very kind of him. Perhaps I could join him in the breakfast room.”

“Oh, no, Your Grace. He left over an hour ago. He said he had to go into Brumbly to get some supplies.”

“I see.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

In a few minutes a tray of fresh poached eggs, biscuits, and smoked ham sat in front of her. Three different jellies, a steaming pot of tea, and a bowl of butter were also on the tray. And a few minutes later Meggie returned with a small pitcher of fresh cream.

“My goodness, I can't possibly eat all of this.”

Meggie laughed. “He said you'd say that, Your Grace.”

“My husband thinks to placate me with food, no doubt. Well, he won't like it so much when my gowns won't fit me and I shall have to have new ones made.”

Both women chuckled. “Men are like that, aren't they?”

“Yes.” Caro sipped the tea; it tasted like Heaven. “Still, it's all very thoughtful of him.”

“Yes, ma'am. Speaking of gowns, a delivery arrived today.” Meggie left the room and returned with two large boxes.

“What are those?”

“New gowns, Your Grace. A riding habit and an afternoon walking dress, I believe.”

“Oh!” They were absolutely gorgeous. “My goodness. Look at that material. And the buttons are so delicate.”

The riding habit was midnight blue velvet with small pearl buttons and white lace around the collar and cuffs. The afternoon dress was of light cotton, with a delicate print of green leaves and tiny cream-colored flowers.

“But very well made, by the looks of them. Where did they come from?”

Meggie hesitated. “His Grace told his aunt that you needed some new clothes. She had these made for you.”

“Oh, and so quickly, too! It's barely been a week.”

“Well, I heard the footman say that she roused her dressmaker an hour after you were married. He said that she has the poor thing working around the clock to fully outfit you for your return to London.”

The thought of Amelia's kindness brought tears to Caro's eyes. “My husband's aunt is very thoughtful.”

Meggie began clearing the dishes. “If you don't mind my saying so, Your Grace, wouldn't that make her your aunt, too?”

Caro drew in a breath. “It does indeed. When we've finished dressing, I'll need some writing materials. I need to send a thank-you letter to”—she paused for a moment—“my aunt.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” The maid started to turn away but paused. “Dear me, I almost forgot. Please forgive my addled thoughts, ma'am.”

“Yes,” Caro asked, curious to see what had Meggie so unsettled.

“Mrs. Higgins sent a missive. I almost forgot to give it to you.” Reaching into her pocket, Meggie pulled out a calling card and handed it to Caro.

Curious, she quickly read the message. “Oh my,” she muttered.

“What is it, Your Grace?”

“Several of the ladies from the village are coming for a visit this afternoon. They are inquiring about my knowledge of the writings of Mary Wollstonecraft.”

“They are?”

It was clear that Meggie didn't realize the importance of the event. “Yes. Here, help me dress. I have to meet with Mrs. Hughes and Mrs. Hardesty right away and prepare for a late luncheon. There's much to be done.”

Excited, Caro fairly bounded out of bed and ran to her dressing table. “Let's wear the afternoon gown for the meeting—no, wait—the brown one. This is no time for frivolity. We must appear serious and concerned for the plight of women everywhere.”

Later that day, seven of the ladies from Brumbly arrived to share tea and conversation.

“So glad to meet you,” Clara Dimsworth said. Wife to one of the farmers that lived on Summerton lands, she was the first to arrive. All of them were very well dressed, wearing lovely afternoon attire of muslin gowns, feathered hats, and soft leather boots.

“And I'm very happy to meet you all as well.” Caro smiled at the ladies gathered. “I must admit, I'm quite happy to share with you all of my knowledge of Miss Wollstonecraft's writings. Now, in her first article—”

“Oh, Duchess!” Clara covered her mouth. “The truth is, we're not really interested in such things.”

Caro's throat went dry. “You're not?” She looked from face to face, and each one smiled back at her. “I assure you, ladies, this is of most importance. Women are being mistreated at every turn.”

Clara shook her head. “The truth is, we wanted to meet the woman who captured Lord Fortune.”

“Oh, yes,” Lady Chatsworth confirmed. Wife to the Earl of Enderly, the older woman was the only titled woman among them besides Caro. “That man has been chased by every mother from London to Bath, all wanting to snare him for their daughters. But you've trapped him like a fox in a henhouse.”

“I did no such thing.”

“Really? How did you snare him, then?”

Caro didn't know what to say. “It was quite by accident, you see.”

“You married him by accident?” Lady Chatsworth asked. “Do tell!”

Clara shook her head. “Of course it was by accident. I mean, look at the poor thing.” She turned back to Caro. “I mean no disrespect, Your Grace. Actually, I'm quite glad that you won the toss. Plain girls everywhere will rejoice.”

“I beg your pardon.” Caro couldn't believe the woman's audacity.

“Clara!” Lady Chatsworth leaned forward. “You must forgive her. She's no sense of how to address one of her betters.”

One of her betters? Caro felt her face heat up, her anger bubbling just below the surface. “The matter of my marriage is not the reason we're here. Women are being mistreated. Requiring us to marry or be under the subjugation of our fathers or brothers is most unfair. We have no say in our own lives.”

“My dear,” Clara said, “that's as it should be. I mean, whatever would we do if we had to manage by ourselves?”

“Really? Have you never considered it?”

Lady Chatsworth held up her hand. “Listen to what the duchess is telling us. It's important.” She turned back to Caro. “Go on, dear.”

Caro let out a breath. “One thing I've learned is that things change. Kings come and go, wars happen, and women who ignore what's important will surely perish. Even if we have generous husbands and fathers, our lives can fall to disaster in a turn. We must have our wits about us…”

All in all, the meeting went well enough. There had been a little discussion over the facts Caro had presented, and the women had been congenial enough. But the feeling of being under their scrutiny never left her.

Of course, her marriage had happened quite by accident. Had she not been at the ball that night, if she'd not gone to hide from the crowd in that parlor, if she hadn't let him come so close to her, if she hadn't let him kiss her…

Caro's mind reeled. How could she have allowed things to go so far?

And yet, she remembered those kisses, his touch, the quiet moments they'd spent together.

It was a good thing she hadn't fallen in love with him. Otherwise, she'd be totally lost. She was not some lovesick puppy. She still had her wits, after all.

Exhausted from his mad dash to Brumbly, Ash arrived home just after dark. To his delight, Weatherby was at the door waiting for him.

“I trust you had a good trip, my lord?”

“I did indeed, though an exhausting one.”

The servant followed Ash up the stairs and to his dressing room.

“You could have sent someone to fetch what you wanted,” Weatherby said as he helped Ash out of his clothes and into his nightshirt and robe.

“I could have, but I needed to make a few visits, and by doing so, I garnered a few very special gifts. A very fine quilt, for one. Some wine and sausages, for another. No, it was well worth the effort. Plus, I've needed to visit the farms on the property for some time.” Ash sighed as his valet pulled off his boots. “Though it was an exhausting day, now it's done.”

“Very good, sir.”

“Go ahead and finish putting the packages away. Do you know if the duchess has gone to bed?”

“I believe she is yet awake. Meggie was scouring the library but half an hour ago for her.”

“Looking for poetry, no doubt.”

“Sir?”

“Never mind. While I was in town, I sent a letter requesting my wife's books from London. They should arrive in a couple of weeks.”

“You are most thoughtful, Your Grace.”

“I have ulterior motives, I assure you.”

Chuckling, Ash left Weatherby to his work. Stopping by the kitchen, he took some cold meats from the pantry, as well as two bottles of ale. One he drank in the kitchen while he ate his meal; the other he took with him upstairs.

Reaching Caroline's room, he paused for a moment, listening. He could hear her there, breathing, moving back and forth. The warm glow of candlelight leaked out beneath the door. He smiled.

She was awake.

His body went into full alert. A mere few inches of wooden door separated them and he ached to open it. To invade her room and then her body.

He scoffed. When had he become a scoundrel?

Remembering her soft curves, her womanly scent, and the incredible feel of her in his arms was sweet torture, indeed.

No need to keep up that line of thinking because he knew it would lead to disaster. No, he would have to be patient. He needed to let her take the lead for now. It was the only way for both of them to come out of this unscathed.

As if such a thing were possible.

She'd already gotten under his skin. All day he'd done nothing but think about her. Did she prefer the sea, or perhaps the mountains? Did she like to ride? Would she join him on a boat one fine day, the sun shining down on both of them?

What would it be like to make love to her under the stars?

“Ash, old boy, you are truly a fool,” he said under his breath.

“Hello? Is someone there?”

“ 'Tis only I, Lady Caroline. Your errant knight, back from his long journey.”

He heard her sigh. “I'm glad you're home,” she said at last.

“Truly?”

“Yes, truly.” The doorknob moved. She was hesitating before turning it.

Panic shot through him. What if she opened it and beckoned him in? He doubted he could hold back, could keep from pulling her into his arms and taking her right there on the spot. He was tired from the long day's ride, but, more than that, he felt his control slipping away by the second.

“Wait,” he said quickly, and grasped the doorknob on his side, holding it firm.

“Wait?”

“Yes. I find it very stimulating, talking to you like this.”

“Oh.” Caro's voice sounded suddenly small. “You don't want to see me, then.”

“I very much do want to see you. To touch you. To make love to you.” He drew a ragged breath. “But I want to do it at the correct time. I want us both to be ready.”

“Then what shall we do?”

“I was hoping to talk again. Like last night. I enjoyed our discussion.”

“I did, as well. It seems we are unencumbered by appearances this way.” Ash heard the catch in her voice.

“And there's no danger things will get out of hand.”

“None at all,” Caro agreed. “What shall we talk about?”

“Is there some subject that you would like to discuss?”

A long silence spread out between them. “I'm afraid that there is little I could speak of that would hold your interest.”

“Nonsense. Try something.”

Ash began to feel warm again. His groin twitched and he felt his body, disgusting thing that it was, responding lecherously to the sound of her voice.

“Very well. I received two lovely gowns from your aunt today. There is no end to her kindness.”

There it was.

Ash sighed. There was nothing like mentioning his aunt to keep the lad in his pants under control.

“That has always been her way, constantly seeing to the needs of others, whether or not they want her to do so.”

“I do appreciate her thoughtfulness. I haven't given the first concern about my wardrobe.”

He grinned. “You've been rather occupied.”

“Distracted, you mean. By you.” She sighed. “I'm not very good at being a proper lady, I'm afraid. If it were up to me, I'd be running around in a threadbare shift.”

Damn. His groin jumped at the thought of it. It wasn't a far stretch to imagine her with nothing but thin cloth over her ample curves, barely covering the soft, pink flesh beneath it.

“Perish the thought.”

“Well, I intend to return the favor when we go back to London. You must tell me what I can do to make it up to her.”

“You've given her a great deal already. She has a family to care for and possibly a young one to look forward to.”

He heard her draw a breath. Ah, again he'd said the wrong thing and likely ruined the mood.

“I've never thought I'd become a mother,” Caro said after a moment.

“Truly? Why not?”

“Because I'm not the sort of girl a man would choose.”

Ash was taken aback. The idea of any man not wanting her seemed absurd. “Why would you say such a thing?”

“Because it's true. My sister is so beautiful—her dresses fit her so perfectly. I was seven years old when she was born and I knew that day that she would be a true beauty. My mother thought so as well, though she never said it. But my figure grew in strange ways. No matter how much I wanted it different, I was too short, too round. Men want to dally with girls like me, but they don't want to marry them.”