by Aston, Alexa
“You may view it but there are no open slots,” she informed him.
His eyes darkened. “You didn’t save a dance for me?”
“I didn’t know I was supposed to.”
“May I see it?” Merrifield asked.
Caroline handed it over as he studied it. “Thank you,” he said and returned it to her, smiling to himself. “If you’ll excuse me.”
“Then you must sup with me,” Luke said.
Exasperation filled her. “I can’t do that. Though I may be new to balls, I know good manners insist I’m to attend supper with my partner from the dance prior to supping.”
“Break tradition,” he urged, giving her a bone-melting smile.
“No. I won’t. Go find yourself some lovely girls to dance with.” She glanced around and her eyes locked on the Three B’s, who studied her from across the room. “I see Lady Bettina staring at you. Or perhaps you wish to dance with Lady Bethany or Lady Betsy.”
He burst out laughing. “I’ve learned my lesson. Next time, I will arrive earlier.” He leaned down and whispered into her ear. “Unless you choose to save a dance for me.” His breath tickled her ear.
Luke pulled away. “Keep that in mind.” He sauntered off.
Her first partner led her to the dance floor moments later and Caroline determined to enjoy tonight, not knowing if this was the last ball she would attend. When the fourth dance started, Merrifield showed up.
“You aren’t on my dance card,” she chided as he took her to the center of the ballroom.
“I am now,” he said, pulling her into his arms.
“How did you manage that?”
“I called in a favor from a friend.” He twirled her around and then brought her close. “It will be worth it to see the envy on Luke’s face.”
“I doubt that,” Caroline said.
Merrifield frowned at her. “Why do you say that?”
“Luke doesn’t care for me . . . in that way. Ask him. He will tell you we are merely friends.”
Her partner grew thoughtful. “I’ll do that.”
They finished the dance, Merrifield as smooth as ever, making her feel graceful and polished. He returned her to where Leah and Amanda stood together and bowed.
“I’m off to ask that question,” he said mysteriously and left.
“What question? Of who?” Leah asked.
“Nothing. Merrifield is merely being silly,” Caroline said.
She ate supper with a lively viscount and his friends, thoroughly enjoying herself, and then danced several more times. When her next partner showed up, he asked if they could do so another time.
“My mother has a headache and has asked for me to see her home.”
“By all means, go to her,” Caroline urged.
After he left, she decided to go to the retiring room for a few minutes of rest. Only a few women were present. She went behind one of the curtains and, moments later, overheard her name. She grew still, knowing she shouldn’t eavesdrop, but chose not to reveal herself.
“Have you heard that she plans to open a bookstore? And a tearoom?”
Several women tittered with laughter.
“How gauche,” one said. “Just think how awkward it will be if you encounter her at a social event.”
“If she’ll be invited to any. Who would ask anyone in trade—much less a woman—to a ton event? She’ll never land a husband now.”
“That’s not all,” another said. “I’ve learned who her father was. The Earl of . . . Templeton.”
“No!”
“Oh, yes. No wonder she has to do something for money. Templeton ran through it all and left nothing.”
“You heard what happened to him?”
“Something about footpads, I think.”
“Not only did he gamble the family fortune away, but he was murdered.”
Murdered? Caroline felt a wave of nausea sweep through her.
“I did hear about that. Wasn’t he robbed and then stabbed?”
“Yes, he’s the one. They dumped his body in the Thames. It was found the next day, all bloated, his face misshapen. The fish had had at him, you know. I even heard . . . he was . . . a sodomite. That it wasn’t thieves but an enraged lover who had at him when the earl wouldn’t pay up for services rendered.”
Bile rose in her throat.
“I can’t believe she was even invited to the Teasley ball. The viscountess must not have heard any of this.”
“For some reason, the Duke of Everton and the Marquess of Merrick are protecting her.”
“Protecting her? Do you mean . . . are they . . .”
“It’s what I’ve heard. Those two publically proclaim to love their wives so much but they’re like all men. I’m sure they’re passing Caroline Andrews back and forth between them. And it wouldn’t surprise me if Mayfield also was dipping his wick in her.”
Caroline turned and vomited everything from her recent supper in the chamber pot. Blood rushed to her ears. She felt hot all over and dizzy.
This is what the ton was saying about her. That she was some trollop. No one would want to patronize Evie’s. She would lose everything.
She pulled back the curtain and saw only one woman stood fussing with her hair. When she saw Caroline, though, her eyes widened. Quickly, she exited the retiring room.
Slowly, Caroline went to wash her hands and her mouth. A servant poured water over them and she cupped some, swishing it in her mouth and then spitting it out. She dabbed the offered towel against her mouth and dried her hands. With as much dignity as she could muster, she left.
She returned to the ballroom but felt eyes everywhere watching her. Her vision blurred with unshed tears. She stumbled toward one of the French doors that led onto the balcony and hurried outside. The cool, midnight breeze rushed at her as she angrily wiped the falling tears from her cheeks. At least with this chill she had the terrace to herself. No gentlemen bothered to romance their ladies in this stiff breeze.
Caroline went to the rail that overlooked the darkened gardens. Misery filled her. Her dream would end before it even began. A plan quickly formulated in her mind. She would return all of Jeremy’s books to his collection. Sell as many of the others as she could, although she assumed Netherby would step in and pressure other London booksellers to give her only pennies on the pound for them. The Mayfair property was a good one. She would be able to sell it for a decent amount. The sale of her father’s townhouse would also bring in a nice sum. She would repay what she owed—and leave London. There was no sense in remaining. She was a laughingstock. It also would help her quickly severe the connections with her friends. Their names were already being dragged through the mud, along with hers. She hated that this was the way she’d repay their kindness.
With the money she had left, she could find a cottage in the country. Start a new life. Leave all of this ugliness behind.
“Caroline?”
She stiffened.
No, no, no!
This was not the time for Luke St. Clair to see her. She ignored him and rushed away, down the stone stairs and away from the terrace.
Within moments, he caught up with her, his strong fingers latching on to her elbow and spinning her around.
“Dash it all, Caroline. What’s wrong?” he demanded.
She burst into tears.
He enveloped her in his arms and brought her close to his chest, his hand stroking her back as she sobbed against him. Bit by bit, he pulled the story from her as she blubbered, embarrassed by what she told him. Finally, he had the gist of it—except for the part about her being a strumpet. She couldn’t even speak those words to him. She pulled away and he remove a handkerchief, drying her tears.
“You can’t give any credence to gossips.”
Caroline’s jaw dropped. “It was more than gossip, Luke. How could I not have known that my father was murdered in such a grisly manner? It was bad enough being the daughter of a gambler who lost all his money. To learn how he met his end
—and to hear what the ton is saying about me—and about you and your family for befriending me? It’s too much.”
Her head dropped in shame.
Suddenly, warm fingers touched her chin, tilting it upward until her gaze met his.
“Forget about it, Caroline.”
“How can I?” she asked.
“Like this.”
Luke’s mouth covered hers.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Heat exploded within Caroline the moment Luke’s lips touched hers. His hands fastened about her waist, holding her in place as he hungrily kissed her. This wasn’t the slow, leisurely exploration from before. Instead, it was hot. Demanding. Possessive.
As if he truly wanted her. As a woman.
Not a friend.
Her hands pushed into his dark, thick hair, kneading his scalp. She heard a low growl and he yanked her against him, his hands moving from her back to her waist. And then lower. Luke fingers traveled down her buttocks, causing a delicious sensation to build inside her. Then he cupped her rounded cheeks and squeezed, causing her to whimper. She felt no cold. No wind. Only the heat of his body pressed against the length of hers as he kissed her senseless.
She slid her hands to the nape of his neck, playing with the ends of his hair. He broke the kiss, as breathless as she was, his lips sliding down the side of her throat to where her neck met her shoulder. He lingered at the sweet spot, pressing hot kisses there and then grazing his teeth along the sensitive skin. Her head fell back as a shiver darted through her.
Then she felt something new between them, hard, pressing against her belly. Caroline dragged a hand down his chest, all the way to where the pressure occurred. She placed her hand between them and touched it.
This time Luke was the one to gasp.
Quickly, she realized what was happening and moved her hand away.
“No. Go ahead. Touch me, Caroline,” he said hoarsely.
Curious, she did as he asked, gliding her hand up and down along the length of hardness pressing against his trousers. He closed his eyes tightly as if in pain. She squeezed it and he moaned, his grimace becoming a smile.
He placed his hand over hers and said, “That’s enough,” and lifted her hand away. He caught the tip of her glove in his teeth and pulled. The glove began sliding from her fingers. Impatiently, he released his hold on it and used his hand to remove it all the way.
Taking her wrist, he turned her hand palm up and kissed its center, sending chills through her. He kissed each of her fingers, one by one, saving the thumb for last. Luke grazed his teeth along the pad and then his tongue flicked across it. Suddenly, his mouth engulfed it, his tongue dancing deliciously along her thumb.
“Oh!” she cried, as he continued laving and sucking it, causing an odd stirring at where her legs joined.
He slowly pulled her thumb from his mouth, his eyes holding hers.
“Do you know how you affect me, Caroline?”
“No,” she whispered, her heart beating rapidly.
“You make me feel strong and yet weak at the same time. I want to hold you. Kiss you. Claim you as mine.”
“I thought . . . you considered us friends.”
He laughed, low and rich. “Is this how friends behave toward one another?” His arms came about her and held her tight. “There is no other woman in the world for me but you. You are my world, Caroline.”
His lips tenderly caressed hers. She felt cherished. Safe. She longed for this moment to go on and on.
But it couldn’t. She was a woman the ton would never accept. What she’d overheard in the retiring room made her a pariah. She was no more than damaged goods. Luke was from a distinguished, powerful family. It wouldn’t be right for him to sacrifice his reputation, even if he cared for her.
Even if he loved her . . .
To save him, she would have to give him up. Forever.
And then leave London, never to return.
Caroline pushed him away. “No. This isn’t right.”
Luke cradled her face in his large hands. “I know. If anyone saw us now, you’d be ruined. I won’t have that. We’ll do everything properly. Announce our engagement. Have the banns read. Wed in the chapel at Eversleigh.”
He kissed her brow. Her resolve began to crumble. She pressed her nails into the palms of her hands, forcing herself to speak up.
“No,” she said forcefully. “There will be no engagement. No wedding.”
Confusion filled his eyes. “But . . . I thought . . . the way you responded to my kiss. I—”
“You thought wrong,” she said coldly, ignoring the surprise and pain that crossed his handsome face. “I was happy to have your friendship and to have you invest in my bookstore. I want nothing to do with you beyond that. In fact, I’ve come into a bit of money and will be able to reimburse you, Evan, and Alex early next week.”
Caroline stepped back a few paces, knowing if she didn’t put some distance between them she might weaken and fall into his arms again. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, Luke. My feelings won’t change regarding this matter. I think it best if we no longer have contact with one another. I would not want to be accused of leading you on.”
She wheeled and hurried away, ignoring him calling after her.
And ignoring her heart shattering with every step that took her further from him.
*
Caroline gathered her employees around her. Both the bookstore and tearoom would open in ten minutes’ time. She hadn’t been able to eat or drink anything all morning. The aroma of freshly-baked sweets wafted through the arch joining her two businesses, causing her stomach to turn queasy.
She hid her misery with a smile. No one must suspect how she felt today.
Looking out over the small group she’d grown close with over the last few weeks, Caroline lamented that they would soon be out of work. She would make time today to write each of them references, hoping that her name attached to the document would not detract from what she wrote.
She’d already sent word to Higgins, asking that he contact the buyer and have them meet her this afternoon instead of waiting until Monday morning in order for the transaction to take place. The sooner she could cut ties with London, the better it would be. She’d already hurt Luke deeply. Leaving London quickly would be best for them both. He still had the entire Season ahead of him in which to find a bride. She prayed he did just that. He deserved a good life with a woman he could love and the children she would give him.
For now, Caroline addressed her staff, reminding them of small things to do and say. She doubted they would have any business at all, beyond a few curious gossips who might come to browse and see what the fuss was all about. She wished she could cancel Catherine’s reading, which was scheduled for eleven o’clock, but didn’t see how she could do so without causing more questions than she was willing to answer.
“Everyone is ready, Lady Caroline,” Stinch said after she dismissed her employees and they began taking their stations.
“You have done a wonderful job, Mr. Stinch. You should be proud of what you have accomplished.”
“I never saw myself in the book business, my lady.” The former butler smiled. “I only wish I could have started in it from the beginning. I’ve never been happier than I have been these last few weeks.”
Tears stung her eyes. “I’ll be in my office. Please fetch me when the Duchess of Everton arrives.”
“Of course.”
Caroline retreated to the back and closed the door to the small office. She didn’t want to be out on the floor for people to stare at, as if she were some monstrosity.
She decided to write out the references since she had nothing else to do. Everything had been so well organized. It would be a good use of her time.
She’d almost completed them when a knock sounded at her door and Catherine popped her head in.
Her heart hurt seeing this wonderful friend she’d made, hoping her quick departure from town would help save C
atherine’s reputation.
“What are you doing, hiding here in the back?”
“I had correspondence to attend to.”
“You are so disciplined, Caroline. I could never have done so when I had a store full of customers. Why, books are flying off the shelves!”
“Truly?”
“If what I saw continues, Evie’s will be a rousing success.”
It didn’t change anything. Her little venture was a novelty. Something for the ton to visit and then gossip about. Even if it did prove successful, which she doubted, she knew she couldn’t stay. She couldn’t chance running into Luke. When she’d spoken so harshly to him, Caroline had felt a good chunk of her shrivel and die. The best, decent parts. She had nothing left to give to anyone and she certainly would never heal from her emotional wounds, knowing Luke might pop into Evie’s at any moment if she stayed.
She rose. “Let’s get you situated.”
Caroline had taken advertisements in the morning papers for the past three days, wanting to publicize Catherine’s reading. When they stepped into the bookstore, shock rippled through her.
The place was jammed full of people. She heard the bell continually ring as the door opened and shut. Clerks rang up purchases to deep lines of customers and she saw Mr. Walton had shown up. Even though she’d told her father’s former secretary she had no more need of him, he had come to the opening and now pitched in alongside the other clerks. A huge group of children and their mothers gathered where Catherine would speak.
“See? I told you. I hope we can make our way through this mob.”
Suddenly, Jeremy appeared. “Might I lend a hand to two beautiful ladies?”
Gratefully, Caroline took his arm and the way magically parted as the duke led her and his duchess through the throng.
She made sure Catherine was seated and had both her book and a cup of tea within reach. The grandfather clock that Rachel had insisted they bring from the Templeton townhouse chimed eleven times and the restless crowd settled down.
Caroline stepped forward. “I’d like to welcome everyone to Evie’s Bookstore and Tearoom. Today, we are especially pleased to sponsor the Duchess of Everton in a reading from her latest book, The Happy Frog Makes a Friend, which goes on sale today. Once the duchess has finished, she will sign any purchased copies of the book. All proceeds will go to charity.” She looked to Catherine. “Your Grace?”