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Lord to Love Again: A Sweet and Clean Regency Romance

Page 9

by Grace Sellers


  She grasped his hand to finish the dance.

  She would not be a nobleman’s mistress, although he must have assumed she would.

  Yes, she was poor. Yes, she needed the money, and yes, he was attractive. It was not hard to imagine her days as a kept woman in a smart apartment in London, waiting at the earl’s beck and call, while wearing the latest in French fashions. Did mistresses even live that way? She wasn’t sure, but she had read that somewhere. She may even be able to work out a way to care for her brother in her free time or at least find a solution for their plight.

  But then what?

  He would still marry at some point, even if he claimed he wouldn’t. He would need an heir. Perhaps he would even marry Nelly. She could not stomach that. Caroline let go of his hand.

  Was it the drink making him feel so forward?

  Possibly, but there was also another reason. He had not felt this attracted to a woman since Eugenia. Had he even been this aroused by Eugenia before they wed? He couldn’t remember. For the first time in a long time, he felt refreshed and awake.

  He felt seen by Miss Holland, not merely as an earl but as a man. She was observant, and she noticed everything, including him. She saw past his title, his status, even his dour moods. She knew how to handle herself, she did the correct thing, with Nelly or a helpless squirrel or any errant children.

  This was what Stanwyck had spoken of when he said he needed to be close to a woman again, feel her and have his body react. He had felt this for Eugenia before things turned sour. Too bad he had fallen for the lady’s companion instead of the young girl he was supposed to be courting.

  Her worried eyes looked into his as the dance ended.

  She unclasped her hand from his and stepped away without looking back.

  She needed to get away from him. She tried to move quickly out of the ballroom, but unhurried couples and women in frilly dresses with fussy trains meandered in front of her. She could feel his eyes on her as she moved away. Finally, she slipped out of a side door. She passed through a hallway and another door, finding herself inside the sitting room where she had first encountered Wolfolk looking at himself in the glass.

  She drew in a shaky breath and pressed her back to a wall for support.

  He kissed her. And she allowed it. Worse, enjoyed it.

  She shook her head to clear away her body’s reaction, but her blood did not seem to cool.

  His lips touched hers.

  The memory was maddeningly sweet.

  She needed to stay away from him for the remainder of her stay. She could only imagine Nelly or her mama’s reaction if either knew. Of course, she’d be fired, have to leave Howsham in disgrace, and that would be the end of the threadbare social connections she had left. She couldn’t show her face in public again.

  She gently bit her still kiss-swollen lips and caught the reflection of herself in the looking glass where Wolfolk had stood only a few days earlier. She stepped closer to the glass and touched a finger to her pink bottom lip.

  He kissed me.

  Her body shivered again.

  In the glass, her face was flushed, her hair mussed. She pulled out the combs that held it up, and it cascaded around her shoulders. She looked like a fallen woman.

  Now she had a tender memory she could replay for the rest of her life.

  She would have to be satisfied with that.

  Alexander couldn’t decide if Caroline’s disappearance from the ballroom was fortunate or not.

  On the one hand, it took care of the immediate problem of his desire for her and his inclination to act on it. But that would be stupid and rash. He couldn’t make love to her without ruining her reputation and causing a scandal to an otherwise respected young woman, not to mention offending the guests and his friends. It would also ruin his chances with Miss Featherton and likely sour him for all of polite society, but those ideas carried much less weight at the moment.

  He sank into a chair at the back of the ballroom and picked up an abandoned cup of half-finished punch from the table, downing it quickly.

  He had scared her off, not that he could blame her. There was no gain for her than a ruined reputation. He was a fool if he thought she would return his attention, even if she wanted to. She was a spinster on the edge of society. And he was the earl with the dead wife. A proper woman would never have anything to do with him anyway. He knew he could never marry her.

  Across the room, Stanwyck strode toward him.

  “There you are, old boy. Thought you had gone missing and then saw you dancing with the companion.”

  “Yes, well, someone’s got to do the hard work,” Wolfolk winced at the label, but hid his expression by taking another sip of the strong punch, suddenly exhausted.

  “You’re a cur,” Stanwyck smiled. “Don’t forget you’re here for the young ladies, mate, not the help.” Stanwyck elbowed him in his chest.

  Wolfolk opened his eyes and studied his friend. Stanwyck was a lucky man. He had married a pretty, kind, and intelligent woman who had an obscenely rich father. He had a family and seemed to be enjoying his responsibilities in life. Why couldn’t things be as simple for Wolfolk?

  He needed to be more like Stanwyck and do the proper thing without thinking too much about it. That’s how Stanwyck approached life, and he didn’t suffer for it.

  “Don’t look so glum.” Stanwyck chucked his friend’s arm. “Being an eligible man amid a group of young ladies shouldn’t be such a tough row, should it?”

  Unless the lady you wanted was not one you should pursue. He sighed at how stupid everything was. He was one of the luckiest men in England. He was titled, land-rich, and from a good family. He could have his pick of brides. Within reason.

  That night in his room, Wolfolk thought of Caroline as he washed and prepared for bed. He was comforted to think that she was in the same house as he, her head resting on a pillow not very far away. It made him feel lighter. He liked to think about how dark and bristly her eyelashes were, and how he hadn’t noticed that until he was close enough to dance with her.

  Close enough to kiss her….

  He paused as he pulled his dressing gown over his head.

  The kiss lingered in his head. His body still hadn’t recovered from the shock of it. Christ, why had he done it? If he concentrated, he could remember how she smelled and almost conjure the taste of her on his lips.

  That, of course, was an awful idea.

  He again imagined her grey eyes looking up with uncertainty and her pink, tantalizing lips close to his.

  Lost in thoughts, Wolfolk put his arms through the armholes and realized he had put his nightshirt on backward. Blast and hellfire.

  He was utterly losing himself in his infatuation.

  He needed to pull himself together.

  An affair with the lady’s companion might be a pleasant distraction, but he was here to make sure his estate had enough income to survive. No matter how discreet she was, it would be impossible to pull off an affair while courting Caroline’s charge.

  Right. He needed to focus on Miss Featherton and ignore whatever lustful feelings he was having toward her companion. They would burn off soon enough.

  He was an aristocrat who needed means to continue his lifestyle, and he needed a wife. Cornelia Featherton answered both of those requirements quite well.

  He crawled into bed and lay awake specifically, not thinking about Caroline.

  Caroline stepped out alone in the garden in the early morning, relishing the fresh, damp air as she tried to reconcile last night’s events.

  It was a huge mistake.

  One that they surely both regretted now.

  How else could she explain away Alexander’s kiss the previous night? Or the way she had kissed him back?

  It was the ball.

  There was a lot of wine.

  Sutherland was dancing with Nelly, and the earl undoubtedly felt envious and kissed the first woman within range, which, unfortunately, had been her. That was
all it could possibly have been. Aristocrats—male ones, anyway—did things like that all the time. They didn’t have to worry about encumberments or people’s feelings or acting appropriately. They kissed whomever they wanted and did not worry about what it meant.

  It must be nice.

  Caroline walked past the hedgerows and stopped to sniff the pink roses, wondering what other liberties he might have taken had she allowed it. There was a small, perfect rosebud that she plucked to take back to her room.

  She involuntarily shivered.

  She couldn’t help it. She imagined him pressing against her again and feeling his warm body. She remembered the kiss, recalling all its details.

  His eyes were green in the failing light.

  His breath against her cheek.

  The rough brush of his whiskers from his chin.

  His lips were hot as they touched hers.

  His body against hers, flooding her with heat. His hands reached up and cupped her face. She wondered what happened to other parts of his body when they kissed, specifically those below the waist.

  Did his body respond as hers did? Did he get aroused?

  She was thinking of things that were entirely improper for an unmarried woman, but she couldn’t help it. With one kiss, she began to understand exactly why there was such a fuss over the wedding night and what sort of unspoken moments it may contain. That was why it was whispered about. That was why men joked about it. Now she understood. She held the small rosebud in her hands.

  She knew a woman a few years older than herself who had confessed once that her wedding night had been awkward and uncomfortable, with lots of fumbling in the dark. Caroline couldn’t imagine feeling that way with Alexander. He seemed to know what he was doing.

  A dog’s bark broke into her imagination and reminded her of where she was. Her face burned red. Louie bounded to her across the garden.

  Slowly, cutting through the morning mist, a tall figure followed Louie’s path.

  She knew who it was before she clearly saw him.

  “My lord.”

  He bowed politely to her across the garden.

  She was not alone in the garden now.

  Of course, she was not. Because that’s not how life worked.

  And Louie ensured that she could not silently retreat.

  Blast.

  Well, she would be cordial. He was a gentleman. He was not going to ravish her. Her face reddened at the thought.

  He stepped out of the shadows and into the bright sunlight and put a hand up to shade his eyes.

  She looked dazzling. Like a woodland pagan goddess holding a rose and with Louie at her feet. He wondered what other forest creatures had just scampered off, probably birds and chipmunks had been braiding her hair. The sun rose behind her, creating a corona of light around her head, which glinted in her hair and made her eyes shine. She looked content and rested. He wished heartily that he hadn’t intruded upon her, but decided having this vision of her in his memory was worth whatever awkwardness he would endure.

  “Miss Holland, good morning.”

  “Lovely morning,” he added.

  “It’ a lovely morning.” She smiled and bent down and pet Louie. “Not so muddy today, are we?”

  The dog wore a ridiculously happy slobbering expression as she leaned over and pet him.

  This was stupid. They were adults. More importantly, he was a Peer of the Realm. He could do whatever he wanted: ignore her, take her to bed, or marry her young charge. Probably not all in the same day. But close.

  “Miss Holland.” He said her name slowly.

  “I should apologize for the past evening…”

  Caroline interrupted Wolfolk as he spoke.

  “No!” Caroline blurted, more sharply than she meant to. She realized what he was doing, and she needed to stop him before he said it.

  He was trying to take blame for kissing her last night, and she couldn’t let him do that.

  “It is my fault,” she said more loudly than she needed to. “I do not usually drink champagne, but I did last night. It went to my head, I believe, and I may have gotten caught up in the dancing and misled you.”

  He eyed her carefully as she spoke.

  “Please accept my apology. I was entirely too forward.”

  He paused, his mouth open as though he might say something, and then finally nodded.

  “Very well.” His jaw tensed.

  There. Now they had an understanding. The honorable thing to do would be to leave. She curtsied, and he bowed. They both stood frozen for a moment. Then they stepped toward the gate at the same moment. He stopped and laughed awkwardly.

  “Please.” He motioned for her to go ahead. She nodded and started to pass to the house, but Louie bounded ahead of her, tripping her feet and almost losing her balance. She nearly toppled over, but Wolfolk reached out and righted her.

  His hands warmed her flesh where he’d grasped her arm. Her heart began to race.

  She regained her balance, her hand protectively at her chest.

  “See why he’s called Lucifer? Here, I will hold the gate and allow no other—neither man nor beast—to pass through the door before you.”

  She forced herself to ignore his touch and how it caused her senses to run riot.

  He let go of her arm. She shivered.

  Lady Stanwyck appeared in the door frame. Her sister, Alice at her side.

  “There you are,” Lady Stanwyck paused to catch her breath. “I’ve been searching for you. Have either of you seen Nelly this morning?”

  Caroline shook her head.

  Lady Stanwyck turned to Alexander.

  “Nor I.”

  The expression on Lady Stanwyck’s face chilled Caroline.

  “She has not come down for breakfast yet? I will go up and wake her.”

  Lady Stanwyck shook her head.

  “Alice went up to see her. She is not in her bed. We thought she may be out walking with you.”

  “Nor in her bedchamber, nor anywhere else she should be,” the younger girl added.

  “I’m sure she’s still sleeping,” Caroline said, starting up the steps to their bedchamber.

  Stanwyck came down the hall.

  “We can’t find Sutherland either.”

  10

  A wave of fear swept over Caroline as she rushed up the steps to her bedchamber and saw that Nelly’s bed was neatly made. Or was it still made up from the night before? Her stomach knotted.

  Nelly.

  Gone.

  Caroline realized she was trembling and was surprised by her fears as she looked around the empty room. Nelly would be ruined in society if she was found to have been alone with Sutherland. Unless she were found quickly and quietly, Caroline would certainly not get paid. Her heart thudded in her chest. Oddly, her payment seemed less important now than saving the girl from a terrible mistake.

  She stopped in the doorway as tears pricked her eyes.

  This was all her fault.

  “Are you unwell?”

  Caroline turned to see Alexander ascending the stairs, concern etched on his handsome face. She turned away and quickly wiped away her eyes.

  He was the reason Caroline had been so distracted. Her own life was ruined by free falling down several notches in society, she couldn’t let the same happen to Nelly.

  He stepped closer and held out his hand to take hers.

  “Stanwyck and I will find her and Sutherland and bring them back.”

  He didn’t understand. She failed.

  Nelly slipped away because of her flirtation with him. Caroline was no better than an undisciplined rake, only she couldn’t afford to ignore society’s gossip about her.

  She jerked her wrist away.

  “Nelly has run away because of me. Because I was distracted. Her life will be ruined. And it is all my fault. And yours.”

  “My fault?” His face changed, brows furrowing.

  Didn’t he see? There was no room for excuses. Nelly’s life was a
t risk.

  A wave of guilt passed over her.

  “She is only seventeen. Now she’s made a mistake she cannot take back, one which society won’t forgive. This is my fault. I was careless. We were careless.”

  Alexander stiffened at the word as though she had slapped him.

  Caroline didn’t want to punish him, but his face was a reminder that she had let pleasure get in the way of her responsibilities. She swallowed her tears and nodded.

  “Nelly is gone because of us.”

  He blinked twice quickly, and then his face became unreadable. The imperious earl. She could not look at him.

  Caroline pushed past him and quickly went down the stairs to where Lady Stanwyck stood.

  “Maybe they’ve gone riding?” Lady Stanwyck suggested as she took Caroline’s hand in support.

  Caroline shook her head. Nelly wasn’t a confident rider, and she certainly would have requested help preparing a riding habit.

  Percy strode into the house minutes later, his face set in a hard expression. “A carriage and a team are missing.”

  Caroline’s throat went dry. Nelly and Sutherland were together, traveling away from Howsham. Likely to Gretna Green, Scotland where they could legally elope without parental permission.

  “Stanwyck and Wolfolk will go after them,” Lady Stanwyck said and patted Caroline’s hand assuredly.

  Caroline forced her spine upright and inhaled. She knew what she needed to do. This was her problem, and she needed to solve it. She couldn’t rely on men who barely knew Nelly.

  Caroline felt another odd rush of affection for Nelly.

  “No. I will go.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Alexander said. His tone sounded scoffing, dismissive of her. She saw his look. It was hateful.

  She turned to face Lord and Lady Stanwyck, pulling her shawl more tightly around her for support.

  “Nelly is my charge. I am responsible for her. Lord Stanwyck, I thank you for the offer, but you are the head of a party at your home. You cannot be expected to leave. Lady Stanwyck, you are the mistress, and you have children. It makes more sense for me to travel to find her.”

 

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