To Catch a Lady (8 page)

Caro had been staring out the carriage window for such a long time that her neck and shoulders ached from lack of movement. She didn't dare let down her guard, as the alternative would be to either stare at her hands or turn toward her new husband.

It wasn't as if she didn't like looking at him. Even in his travel-weary, disheveled state he was a very handsome man. So handsome, in fact, that it took every bit of her willpower not to gaze at him.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the worst of it.

She should have been able to put him completely out of her mind. The devil smelled so incredibly good, a mixture of leather and sandalwood that filled the small space of the cab, that she was reminded of his presence with her every breath.

Blasted man crowded her senses at every turn!

Caro shook her head. After the excitement of the ball and their delirious bout of passion the night before, it had been a long morning followed by an endless afternoon. It was warm for a spring day, and especially so inside the carriage.

That was bad enough, but Caro had never traveled more than a few hours in her entire life, and now she felt as if she was near to suffocating. Although she held herself as still as stone, she didn't know how much longer she could carry on in such a state. Like a caged cat, it was all she could do to resist the urge to throw open the carriage door and fling herself from the coach. Landing in a muddy ditch, risking life and limb, seemed far preferable to remaining another hour imprisoned in the barouche.

Of course, tweaking her sour mood even more was that her new husband sat comfortably, reading his journal as though he hadn't a care in the world.

In spite of their heated embrace the night before, Caro felt a deep chasm between them this morning. Whatever had possessed her? Usually she was the most levelheaded woman of anyone. Never had she so easily given in to flirtatious advances.

Then again, if she were to be honest, she'd rarely attracted attentions from men. A single one instance came to mind, and it had ended in catastrophe.

Caro quickly shut away the painful memories from her past.

She would not allow herself to wallow in self-pity. What was done was done, and she had to look ahead. It was imperative that she not look into her past. If the truth ever came out…

Clenching her jaw, she told herself it just wouldn't. Only three people knew what had happened all those years ago. One of them was dead. One was lost in memories of happier times—but even in her confused state, she knew never to speak of the past. And, Caro herself would never tell.

Drowning in the oppressive atmosphere of silence, and her own impending bout of melancholy, Caro thought she might go mad. Best to deal with her situation head-on. Be the first to cast out the flag, so to speak.

Caro cleared her throat.

“Tell me about this place we're going to?”

With what appeared to be exaggerated patience, the duke closed the periodical he'd been reading and looked over at her. He gave her a measured expression, likely trying to see if she was truly interested in their destination or just attempting small talk. A few seconds passed, and, looking as if he'd made up his mind on the matter, he crossed his arms and began speaking.

“Slyddon Castle,” he said, his voice taking on a tone of reverence. “It's a modest property located in the midst of the most beautiful forest in Hampshire. It was a gift from my uncle. When I was a lad, he would take my cousin and me for long holidays, hunting and fishing there. It's a virtual paradise of fresh air, tall trees, and a lake that sparkles like diamonds in the moonlight. Heaven on earth, if you ask me.”

“You speak of the place with such affection, one would think you were referring to a woman.” She sighed. “Well, it's no matter to me, as long as I have access to a bath, a clean bed, and a decent pot of tea when we arrive.”

Ashton grunted at that. “Very practical of you, wife. How fortunate we are that you are a woman of simple needs.”

Caro winced. Though there was no hint of sarcasm in his tone, his words stung her just the same.

“My family and I have managed on but a small stipend for quite some time. Of course, I will fulfill the requirements of my new station, but enough living space to read my books and write letters home is all I require.” The latter of which she planned to be doing every day until they returned to London.

Though only hours had passed, Caro's heart ached for her family. How was she to cope with the long days ahead?

The duke must have read her expression, but he said nothing. “Although Slyddon Castle is a bit rustic, it's not without the usual comforts afforded to our station. We have a full working staff, including a housekeeper, a butler, a cook, and several kitchen attendants. Slyddon has a large dining room, three parlors, a full library, and thirty-two bedrooms. There is also a well-stocked pond on the property and a garden that rivals any that London has to offer, I assure you. Of course, it's very isolated, and not at all as popular as the drawing rooms of the ton. No doubt it'll take some adjusting to get used to it—that is, if one allows oneself.”

Caro stamped down on the urge to snap at him. He was her husband, after all, and if she were to have any hope of surviving their holiday, let alone their marriage, one of them had to exercise some restraint.

“I never meant to infer that your estate would be lacking, Your Grace. I just meant that, as a woman who's lived her entire life within the city, there are just some accoutrements that I cannot possibly live without.”

“Nor would I expect you to. I am not a beast, madam.”

Caro chewed her lip. How could they possibly suit? It was all they could do to take a simple carriage ride together.

“I didn't say you were.” This time, she couldn't help letting her annoyance slip into her tone.

“Of course not,” he answered, the bland, dismissing sound of his voice rankling her even more.

Turning her gaze back to the window, Caro did her best to put it all in perspective. Clearing her throat, she tried again.

“How are we going to get through this?”

“You mean our marriage.”

“Yes, I mean our marriage. We're strangers who are about to attempt the impossible.”

“Nonsense. There are plenty of instances where men and women marry for no other reason than financial concerns—combining powerful families or joining land grants, and so forth. Ours is a most sound business arrangement.”

“For you, perhaps.”

His voice grew stern. “For both of us.”

Caro felt the sharp edge of his words prick her pride. “Of course.” It galled her to think she'd become so desperate as to sell herself in marriage to a man she didn't care for in order to save her family. She was a most intelligent lady, after all. She should have come up with a better plan.

“You needn't worry. There isn't any reason we can't make this arrangement work.”

Caro bit her tongue. It certainly would do no good for her to try to explain to him how terribly wrong it could go. “Nothing to do about it now, I suppose.”

“Of course not. To make things easier, I've put together an itinerary for us to follow once we arrive at Slyddon. We shall begin with introductions to the staff. Once that is done, you can review their performances, and, based on your findings, you may disperse their responsibilities as you see fit. I shall, of course, provide you with a list of requirements for running the lodge. At present we have four guests in residence, and of course there are the local gentry to be considered…”

Without considering her intentions, her husband continued on for some time, reciting an endless litany of what was expected of her in her new life. Panic set in as she saw her life spinning out of control.

She was grateful for one thing: At least he had the good manners not to mention the true reason for their marriage, the conception of a child.

After their passionate moments the night before, Caro was sure that they'd have no problem with that task. It had been so easy to fall into each other's arms and do what nature demanded.

“You're wearing that expression again. What's the bother?” He leaned over to her. “Are you worried about your success conceiving a child? I gave that quite a bit of thought, that either of us might not be able to produce a child. I did put a stipulation in the contract stating that if no child is born within five years of our marriage, then you will be released from the conception clause and allowed to retain your station and the entitlements owed you as my wife.”

“How very generous of you, Your Grace,” she said, clenching her teeth.

The man was stupid—or he was baiting her. Either way, she couldn't decide which would be the wiser action at that moment, throwing herself from the coach or pushing him out the door. Since both doors were securely latched, she had little choice in the matter. But a girl could dream.

“Might I ask what's prickling your temper? Are you nervous about your abilities in the marital bed? I assure you, madam, the responsibility of successful performance will be almost entirely mine.”

Not a woman to mince words or hide her feelings, Caro blurted out. “I trust that we shall be able to do what's necessary to conceive a child. I'm more concerned about the long hours we'll be forced to spend together when we're not in bed attending to our marital responsibilities.”

“It's simple: After you attend to your wifely duties, your time is your own. As for me, I have no designs on monopolizing your time. As you pointed out, we are not the typical couple. You needn't worry about me forming an affectionate attachment to you, either. I assure you I'm quite good at distancing myself from emotional entanglements.”

“Lucky, that,” Caro said. “I admit that I care no more for you than I do a stray cat. Perhaps not even as much, truth be told. After all, you're a grown man who has the means to take care of himself, where a poor, homeless animal cannot.”

One thing she did know for sure. The last thing she would do was form an affection for him. For, if she did, it would surely be her downfall. She would not let herself surrender to his warm, soft kisses, his most capable hands, or his strong, masculine form.

“I expected no less,” he said. Without another word, he picked up his periodical and returned to his reading.

Caro said nothing, but when she was certain that he was absorbed in his reading, she quickly glanced in his direction.

He was tall and lean, and though he had a commanding presence, he certainly wasn't a bully. Thus far, she hadn't witnessed his treating women with anything other than honest respect and, in his aunt's case, even admiration.

Of course he was well dressed, but she had the sense that he didn't care for the stiff waistcoat and tight breeches he wore. He often showed signs of discomfort, loosening his cravat, or shifting in the seat, rolling up his sleeves. After a few moments she realized that the farther away they traveled from London, the less he was the properly dressed gentleman, and the more he became the wild adventurer. More a man who lived by his wits and his skill as a woodsman and less the revered aristocrat.

What the devil?

Caro plucked her fan from her carrying case and began waving it furiously. Suddenly the air inside the coach had gone from warm to positively hellish.

Ignoring her own discomfort, Caro did her best to turn her mind to more practical things. But try as she might, the memories of their tryst the night before came to mind, as well as the fact that as his wife, she would have to allow him to do what he must. She'd signed the blasted contract, after all.

Caro forced herself to take one deep breath and then another. After all, signing a contract didn't mean she would have to give in to the giddy excitement that had overcome her when they'd first embraced.

She simply wouldn't allow herself to feel anything at all the next time he touched her.

She would not feel the sweet burn of his caress when he pulled her close. She certainly wouldn't allow herself to become lost in his deep, urgent kisses, or melt into a quivering puddle of unquenched desire when he pressed himself against her.

She would do none of that.

And she certainly wouldn't fall in love with him.

The condition of their marriage had been simple. She was to conceive a child. Their entire relationship depended upon it.

That thought should have terrified her.

It certainly disturbed her.

The thought of them together intrigued her, beguiled her, and most assuredly excited her. Caro bit down on a grimace. Sitting alone with him all day had set her nerves on edge.

“Something the matter?” he asked, closing his periodical once again.

“No, nothing,” she said, doing her best to force calmness into her tone.

“I'm not an expert, Caroline, but it appears to me that you are lying.”

Anger shot through her. “You have a great deal of nerve, sir.”

He smiled. “I do, indeed. I believe it comes from facing down French soldiers during the war.”

“You were an officer, then?” Somehow seeing him as a hero surprised her. So, he wasn't a spoiled aristocrat after all? “Your father let his heir go into service?”

“Hardly.”

“You served against your family's wishes? What sort of duke would allow his son to do such a foolish thing?”

“My cousin, Stephen, was the duke's heir. I was just the next in line.”

“I didn't know. What happened?”

“My cousin died in a carriage accident. A few days later, my uncle fell ill. He passed away within a month of my cousin's death.”

“I'm so sorry for your loss.”

“They were very dear to me. It was my uncle who bought me a commission in the army. Of course, he intended for me to be of high rank, but I was happy as a minor officer. I didn't want to be leading troops.”

“Why not?”

He smiled at her, and for a moment, she swore a look of longing crossed his face. Then, as quickly as it appeared, his odd expression was gone.