To Catch a Lady (19 page)

Mrs. Hughes had done an admirable job packing them their meal. Cold hen, warm biscuits, pickled eggs, and fresh strawberry pie, it was a lunch fit for royalty. Now the perfect gentleman, Ashton served them both, doling out their portions with a great deal of flourish. It was clear by his manners that he'd had the most proper upbringing, that his family had schooled him well in every aspect of genteel society.

Not only that, but if one watched him closely enough, one could also see the underlying disdain he held for genteel society. The way Caro saw it, he was an improper fit to the very world he lived in. Preferring rustic castles to great estates, simple food to lavish fare, and a woman who was more than a porcelain doll in a linen dress.

And damn it all if she didn't admire him for it. Deep down, she had to admit that she had long wanted to be free of the trappings of her gender and of her social status. She wanted the simple freedom to be who she was: a young woman with the capacity to think and talk and care for those she loved. She had never wanted the wealth of a dukedom, nor a husband to pet her and treat her as if she were a child.

“It's a lovely day today,” she said. Although they had finished their meal, she felt she had to engage him. As it was, he seemed content to lean against a tree and contemplate the row of ants that had decided to help themselves to the remainder of the meal.

“Every day is a lovely day in Slyddon,” he said.

“Even when it rains?”

“Especially when it rains. A purplish fog rises off the ground and hangs about the trees when it's damp.”

“It must be beautiful, indeed.”

“I doubt there are many places on earth as beautiful as this forest in the winter.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of baying hounds. The sounds had started off in the distance, but over the last few minutes the noise had grown louder. Seconds later, two animals came bounding up to their small camp, happily barking and jumping into the mix.

“Oh, heavens!” Caro did her best to dodge their enthusiasm, but it was a poor attempt. The animals were most curious about her.

Laughing, Ash worked to get them under control.

“You'll have to forgive Nelson and Wellington. They're still pups and don't listen well to commands.”

“That's obvious,” Caro said. Managing to get to her feet, she started brushing dirt and dog hair from her gown.

“I'm so sorry,” Duncan called out as he rode into the clearing, perched upon a large bay mare, the perfect picture of a nobleman out on a leisurely hunting trip.

“It looks as though the lads need more training,” Caro called out, barely missing one of the animals as it wound around her skirts.

“They do, indeed. While they possess the exuberance of their namesakes, they lack the appropriate military discipline.” Ash laughed. “Go back to the hunt, old man. I'll see that they get back home.”

“Enjoy your luncheon.”

Ash turned back to the errant hounds. “All right, lads. Sit.”

At his very command Nelson and Wellington immediately obeyed and in seconds had changed from exhibiting uncontrolled chaos to being well-mannered dogs.

“That's amazing,” Caro said. “How did you do it?”

“Hm? Oh, I work with them every day when I'm here. You might not think it, but I'm a very disciplined man.”

“You're correct, I wouldn't have thought so.”

“Most of the time, I have control of them, though I have to be honest, when a squirrel, rabbit, or feline wanders by, they do have a tendency to forget their good behavior.”

“But that's temporary, right? Once they are mature, hopefully they will fall in line.”

“They will or they'll be no good as hunting dogs.”

“What will happen to them if they can't behave for the hunt?”

Ash coughed. “Don't worry for these two. They are descended from a noble bloodline. I'll use them for breeding. Chances are I'll get a good pup sooner or later.”

“Oh. Then you are much more discerning when choosing your hunting dogs than the future mother of your own children.”

Ash sat back, stunned. When he spoke again, his voice was of a quietly controlled tone. “I suppose I deserve that.”

Caro bit her lip. “That was wrong of me. I should apologize, but it wouldn't do any good.”

“No, likely not.” He paused. “It's past time to bury the hatchet. We need to put the past behind us. However I chose you, and however you managed to place yourself in the position of being chosen—neither matters. We're here right now. It's a warm, beautiful afternoon. Can't we just enjoy it?”

Caro hadn't expected that. She glanced away for a moment. So many emotions warred within her. In truth, she was tired of being angry, hurt, nervous, and scared. She just wanted peace.

“Very well. We shall call a truce. No more cutting remarks or sharp tongues.”

“I accept your terms,” he said, the humor returning to his voice.

She looked at him, shocked. “I haven't given you any terms.”

“No, you haven't, which makes them extremely easy to fulfill.” He gave her a mischievous grin.

“So, what shall we talk about?”

He paused again. Then, brightening, he looked back at her. “Sex.”

Another shock!

“Sir, you speak scandalously!” She glanced about and then suddenly felt the fool when she heard him laugh.

He shrugged. “There's no one around to judge us.”

“Are you making sport of me? Trying to see how far you can push me?”

“Heavens, no. But since we are married, don't you think we should discuss all aspects of our life together?”

Caro felt the old anxiety rise in her chest again. “What is there to discuss? Shouldn't we just do what our vows have demanded and, well, resume our marital relations?”

Ash sat back and considered his wife. She was so odd when it came to such things. So very rational. So very guarded. He'd expected to embarrass her, to surprise her, to ruffle her feathers at the very mention of such a subject—but to anger her?

It bothered him and intrigued him. It was as if deep inside her there was a secret that she daren't tell anyone. Especially him.

He leaned forward again. “Tell me, dear wife, how do you see us doing that?”

She crossed her arms, giving him a stern expression. “Now you are making sport of me.” She started to rise, and he jumped to his feet.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm going back to the castle.”

“Lodge. It isn't a castle any longer. It's a lodge. Do you realize how far away we are? Half an hour by carriage, probably about two hours on foot.”

“I have very good legs and I'm very skilled at walking.”

To his amazement, she set out at a brisk pace. “I hope you are very skilled at walking, because you'll be going farther than you intend.”

She spun around, her face pinched and red with anger. “What are you talking about?”

“You're going the wrong way.”

“You, sir, are impossible. Pray tell, which is the right way?”

This time Ash crossed his arms. “I'm not going to tell you.”

“Then to the devil with you!” She turned round again and stepped forward.

Ash didn't let her get two paces before he was beside her, grasping her arm.

“You keep running away from me. It's time to stop, Caroline. You have to stop and face this now. It won't go away. Leave if you want, but I'm not going to abandon you or our problems.”

“Let go of me!”

“Then tell me, what are you afraid of? Why can't we make this work?”

She looked at him, her face now gone white, her mouth open and on the verge of telling him everything. It was as if they were perched on a precipice, threatening to tumble off into the abyss.

Just then a loud howling sounded in the distance. The air around them went still, the trees stopped fluttering, and even the birdsong ceased.

The sound he heard was a quiet whine, a whimper of a dog, who he knew was answering a call that only male dogs could comprehend: the siren song of a potential mate.

There was a bitch somewhere in the vicinity and she was in heat.

“Damn!”

Nelson was the first to jump. In bare seconds he was on his feet and bounding toward the copse of trees to the right of them. Without thinking, Ash dove for the animal's lead rope and snatched hold of it at the last second. Nelson, a strong, lean fellow, jerked back and yelped.

“Aha!”

Then, to his dismay, several things happened at once. Because he'd leapt for Nelson, upon stopping the dog's advance he also tripped forward, and landed face-first on the ground. Almost simultaneously, Wellington shot into action.

Because Wellington was the calmer of the two males, it hadn't occurred to Ash that his little soldier would burst from his own lead and run toward the siren female. Twisting and rolling to his side, while holding on to Nelson's leash, Ash managed to grab hold of Wellington's rope, which had lain coiled up beside him.

The very next thing he knew was the sound of Caroline's high-pitched scream. The cord that he'd snatched to keep his prized hunting dog from running off into the forest was lying directly behind Caroline. When the dog jumped to answer his lady love, the lead went taut, wrapping around the back of her dress. The dog shot forward and Caroline was thrown off balance.

The next thing Ash saw was his new bride tumbling heels over teakettle, and since the terrain was a gentle downward slope toward the lake, her backward flip turned into a roll. Before Ash could do anything to stop her, Caroline rolled into the lake.

At one moment the air was filled with her surprised scream, and at the next a loud splash and silence as she sank beneath the surface of the water.

Letting go of the dogs, Ash jumped to his feet and ran to the water's edge.

“Caroline?” he called out, but no answer returned. In fact, other than a few ripples, there was no sign of her at all.

“Caroline!” he yelled again. When she didn't surface, Ash sprang into action. In a flurry of motion he pulled off his coat and shirt, and then tore off his boots. Thinking of nothing but Caroline, her lifeless body lying at the bottom of the lake, he hit the water in a full running dive, slipping beneath the inky surface and going straight to the bottom.

The problem with a murky lake was that even on a sunny day, one could not always see beneath the waters. But swimming on instinct alone, a few seconds later he was rewarded by the brush of Caroline's hand. She was, as he suspected, at the bottom of the lake, her dress snagged on a tree root.

Doing his best, he grabbed at her and attempted to pull her free, but she was well and truly caught. He grasped the fabric at the point where it was snagged on the wood, and pulled it with all of his might. The fabric finally gave way and her dress tore. Seconds later he was pulling her from certain death and rushing upward toward the surface and lifesaving air.

“Caroline!” he shouted again, as he swam with all of his power and pulled her toward the lake's edge.

It seemed to take forever to drag her from the water and then carry her to the blanket.

“Ugh!” She awoke, sputtering and coughing, the moment he set her down.

“Easy,” he said, pulling up the blanket around her now shivering form.

“Hold me,” she said, her voice taking on a deep, rough sound. Before she could speak again, she began rasping and wheezing.

“What's happening?” he asked, pulling her closer.

Caroline shook her head, grabbed at his arms, and gasped for air. Then, in the next instant, he watched as her color turned to ash and then a pale blue.

“Caroline!” he yelled, but her eyes glazed over. Suddenly, she went from an irascible woman to a cool, limp body.

Shaking her didn't seem to help, but Ash didn't know what else to do. With no other thought, he placed his lips upon hers and forced air into her.

It took three forceful breaths before he was able to bring life back into her.

Now a lighter shade of blue, Caroline began to rouse. But she was not well. Suddenly, she gasped for air, a loud barking sound erupting from her.

“Ash,” she strangled out.

“What's wrong?”

“Can't breathe.”

“Yes, you can. You're doing it right now.” Cradling her close to him, he did his best to stay calm, though sharp tendrils of fear wrapped around his spine.

She coughed again, her breath coming in short bursts.

Afraid that he would lose her, this time forever, Ash shook her gently. “Listen to me,” he said, taking her face in his hands. “You're not going to die. I won't let you.”

“Can't…help…it…” she rasped.

“I know it must feel that way, but Caroline, you must relax, stop fighting it. Just concentrate on one breath. One breath, my girl. All you need is one breath.”

Gazing into her eyes, Ash watched the fear grow bright and he was sure she was about to give in to it. But he held her, caressing her face while he gently rocked her.

Miraculously, she started to calm.

He felt every muscle in her round, soft body begin to ease. He could see the panic that had consumed her start to dissipate.

“That's it,” he told her, his voice low and calm. “One breath, and then another.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “One breath…”

One moment Caro was angry, practically spitting fire and ready to walk all the way back to London if need be.

The next, the world around her became utter chaos.

She wasn't sure what had happened. It had all been a blur. Something about baying hounds, a tumble down a hillside, and her sitting at the bottom of a bone-chilling lake. The next she knew, she awoke, soaked to her skin, wrapped in a blanket and shivering in her husband's arms.

“Oh, Ash…”

Looking up at him, she was shocked by what she saw. He was as pale as a ghost, breathing as though he'd just run a race with the devil, and wearing a look of panic the likes of which she'd never seen on a man before. And he held her in a vise grip, rocking her back and forth, muttering the words, “One breath, one breath…”

Her second realization was that she'd nearly drowned.

Her third one was that she really liked being held by him like that.

It would have been so easy to fall under his spell, to let him comfort her. But her brush with death had made one thing certain. She couldn't do it. If she were to give in to him now, give him her whole heart, then all would be lost.

She would be lost.

Not knowing what else to do, she pushed him away and scrambled to sit up on her own.

“What in blazes do you think you're doing?” she demanded, her voice croaking like an indignant frog.

His expression of fear changed to one of annoyance. “Rescuing my wife. What the devil is wrong now?”

“What's wrong? We're wrong. I can't do this any longer. You and I simply don't suit. I want you to annul our marriage and send me back to London. Immediately.”

Her husband sat stone-still, not saying a word and not showing one tiny bit of the emotion she knew churned inside him.

But she wasn't fooled. When she studied him, she saw all—shock, anger, and hurt made his eyes flash like oil lamps at midnight.

Then he changed. It was as though he'd been puzzling a curious mystery and he'd just come up with the solution. When he spoke again, it was in a surprisingly calm tone.

“There's no reason why we can't be together. No reason except for you. I've been most accommodating.”

“Have you?”

“I have.” He crossed his arms. “I've given you your lead. I've not demanded you come to my bed each night. I've not insisted that you entertain my friends. I've given you ample time to become accustomed to the lodge, to me.”

“So, by not being a cad, forcing yourself and your friends on me, you've been a perfect gentleman?”

Tipping his head slightly to the left, it was clear he was considering her argument. “I wouldn't say perfect, exactly.” He frowned, setting his jaw in a hard line. “I've been very patient.”

The fight went out of her. She simply had no more arguments. No more pleas to make. Nothing left that would convince him to let her go.

She would have to tell him the truth and be damned with the consequences.

“I've played you false.”

The chill went straight to her bones, but it wasn't the cold water or the breeze that blew in from across the lake. It was the disapproving way he stared down at her.

“Go on,” he said.

She shook her head. “Stubborn man. Why won't you just take my word for it? All of this is a vain effort at best. Let me out of the blasted contract. Say whatever you like. I've no care for my reputation.”

“And what of your family?”

She shivered, her teeth clattering. “I'll find a way to take care of my family.”

He crossed his arms. “I bloody well will not annul our marriage. You made a promise and I intend to hold you to it. Now be honest, as I'm assuming you have not been the entire time we've been together.”

“The facts will not change anything. Take my word on it. You don't want to stay married to me. Isn't that enough?”

“It is not.”

“I lied when I told you I'd never been engaged. It was when I was young. My mother's distant cousin, Alfred Danbury, asked me to marry him. I was barely fourteen, but I thought he was so gallant, so handsome. He was almost nineteen, you see. And most charming,” she added, “when he wanted to be. I didn't know that his intentions toward me weren't of a romantic nature. That all the while he'd been courting me, he'd had one hand in my mother's jewelry box and had been writing false banknotes with the other. I didn't know it at the time, but he'd emptied our accounts.”

“But he was an aristocrat, was he not?”

“Oh, yes, his father held a barony and was rumored to be quite well off. But our Alfred had amassed a very large amount of gambling debts. So when he'd exhausted our funds, my usefulness to him abruptly ended.”

“That wasn't your fault, Caroline. You were but a girl.”

She held up her hand. “That's not all of the story. When I learned that he'd broken our engagement, I was devastated. I'd formed what I thought at the time was quite an affection for him. In short, I thought my heart was broken.”

“As would any young girl in your position.”

She gave him a small smile. “Yes, but more than that, I'd counted on him to help support my family. My stepfather had just died, and since my mother had been his second wife, she was given very little money by his family. She had to work as a governess to keep us fed. So not only was Alfred hurting me, but I felt he owed my family some recompense.”

“Indeed, he did.”

She shivered again. “Such a stupid girl, I went to his room. Unchaperoned. Fool that I was, I begged him to take me back. I told him I'd do anything he wanted. That I loved him.”

Ash held up his hand, “You're cold. Let me set a campfire.” He left her a few moments to gather some branches. After placing the wood on the ground, he took a flint from the basket and struck a match on it.

“We're lucky that the basket didn't go into the lake with us,” she muttered, a weak attempt at humor.

He didn't smile, or even look up at her.

“Go on,” Ash said, stirring the flames. His voice was very low and so serious that it caused Caro to jump at the sound of it. “What happened next?”

Closing her eyes, she let the memory come back to her, still amazed that it could still cause her pain after nearly ten years.

“He pulled me into his room and slammed the door behind me. I swear, I've never seen such violence on a man's face before or since…”

She heard the snap of a twig and opened her eyes to see Ash kneeling perfectly still, gazing not at her, but rather staring at the fire.

She swallowed. “He pushed me against the wall. I thought he was going to ravish me.”

Ash glanced up. “Did he?”

“No,” she said, her throat as brittle as the kindling he held. “He drew back his hand and hit me.” She put her hand to her face, the place where he'd landed the blow. “It was so hard that it knocked me off my feet. When I fell, I landed on the fireplace grating and dislodged a coal.” She let out a breath. “For a moment I didn't know what happened, but the pain from the hot coal brought me back to my senses very fast. Because of him, I have a scar…” With that, she unbuttoned her bodice, and pulled it down to reveal the twisted scar in the center of her abdomen.

“Dear God,” Ash muttered.

“It doesn't hurt anymore,” she said, her voice above a whisper. “So, it doesn't really bother me.”

He sighed and went down on his knees. His eyes trained on her scar, he said nothing.

“As bad as it was, I would have gladly suffered that and more, because what happened next was far worse. My mother heard my screams and when she found us, she went after him. It was a terrible fight. She was so angry, hitting him again and again. But her blows barely made him blink. Furious, she reached for a vase and meant to hit him again, but he was faster and stronger. He pushed her hard and she fell back and hit her head on the mantel.”

“Bastard,” Ash muttered. Leaning forward, he touched her then, caressed the puckered skin of her injury. “It wasn't your fault.”

She nodded, sniffling. “If I hadn't been such a foolish girl. If I'd not believed his lies or gone to his room that night…”

“Your mother wouldn't have been hurt,” he finished.

She took a shaky breath. “So you see, Ash. It's why I've never sought a husband. I've known for a long time I couldn't trust myself to choose. I'd made such a mess of it all.” She let out a breath and looked away from him. “I was so sure that Beatrice would attract the right man.”

He bit down on a laugh. “And you thought I was the right man?”

She looked at him then, her eyes wide and clear. “I still do.” She pulled the edges of her bodice closed.

Without saying another word, he kissed her. Gentle at first, and when she responded to his touch, he began moving his mouth against hers. Slow and sensual, warm and delightful.

Caro couldn't help herself. She drank in his kiss, as thirsty for him as a woman wandering through the desert begging for water. He answered her demands, his hands running the length of her body, up and down, caressing her in a way she had never experienced before.

She pushed him away. “What are you doing?”

“Proving to you that I am the right man, Caroline. But not for your sister. For you. I'm the right man for you.”

“Oh,” she whispered.

He kissed her again. “I want this, Caroline. You want it, too? Let me make love to you.”

“Yes,” she answered. Suddenly she was starving for his touch, need and desire for him racing through her. She softened in his arms, then, and he gently laid her on the ground, carefully spreading out the blanket. Then, once he had freed her from the tattered remains of her gown, he worked at the corset below it, expertly pulling out the ties so that, before long, he'd exposed her to the warm sunlight.

As he had promised that first night, he went to work peppering kisses along her jaw and neck, down to her breasts. Without hesitation, he gave each of them due attention. Caroline was sure she would shatter into a million pieces at any minute.

“Ah, Caroline,” he said, his breath hot against her skin. Next, he pulled up her skirt, his hands hot against the skin of her legs. Grasping her buttocks, he lifted up her hips and continued his sensual assault at her center, kissing and caressing her in that private place, literally driving her mad with desire.

Rising above her again, he growled. “Now, Caroline. Open for me, now.”

Without thinking, Caro did as he'd asked. When he moved against her, she marveled at the intimacy of their touch, skin on skin, body to body. With a slow, gentle push, he began rocking on top of her, pushing himself in, inch by inch. Caro was lost in the sensations when she heard him draw a quick breath.

“I'm not hurting you, am I?” His voice was tight, and although she didn't know much about men, she could feel his need resonate in his tone.

Caro was surprised by his concern. She didn't think any man cared about a woman's comfort during lovemaking, but she should have known that Ash was not just any man.

“No,” she said, thinking only of his kiss, his touch, and realizing that the man had already given far more of himself than she knew she had a right to.

“Please. Don't stop.”

Bit by bit, her orgasm built. She knew release wasn't far away, so she gave her body fully to him. And when the peak came, it bent her backward, her muscles tightening, releasing, tightening and releasing, until the very last of her energy was spent.

The breath went out of her in a rush and a fluid ease came over her. She felt as if she were but a soap bubble floating on the water. Drawing in a slow breath, she opened her eyes to thank him.

Ash hovered above her and she saw the beads of sweat on his forehead. His jaw was clenched as if he were in great pain.

“What's the matter?”

“I need to let go, now, Caroline. I need to finish.”

“Let go,” she told him.

She watched, fascinated at his gentleness, even though she could tell by his tight expression that it was taking all of his effort to stay in control. Moaning, he began once again, rocking to and fro.

To her surprise, Caro felt her body respond once more, her desire returning, but this time when she reached her peak, her release came tighter, stronger than the first time. And when she reached climax, tightening around him, he cried out, and she knew he'd found his release at last.

Caro had never once considered the passion of lovemaking. It was thrilling, yes. Exciting, definitely. But when she saw her husband in the midst of his release, she saw him for the very first time.

Really saw him.

He was not just a man, but a strong, determined, stubborn, and kind man. More than that, though he angered her and thrilled her almost constantly, he also surprised her at every turn.

And he was her husband.

A few minutes later, when she could think again, she studied him. He was lying beside her now, his hand on her abdomen, and by his expression, Caro could tell something was bothering him.

“What is it?” she asked, a new fear taking form in her belly.

“I was just thinking about your scar.” He touched it gently, outlining the puckered skin with his fingers.

There it was, she thought. They could be lovers, but never more than that. It struck a sad chord in her, but it was no less than she deserved.

“I'm sorry that I can't be the perfect wife,” she said, and meant it. Though she didn't want to cry, she couldn't help the tears that welled in her eyes. She did her best to blink them away, but a few spilled out.

Very gently, he reached up and caressed the trail left by her tears. Though he didn't speak, his very touch spoke volumes of his kindness, so much so that she couldn't help the swell of affection that grew within her.

“I'm sorry he hurt you,” he said quietly, “but you shouldn't cry over a scar.” Then, he did the most shocking thing of all. He leaned over and kissed her where the searing coal had marked her.