For the Lust of a Rogue: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Olivia Bennet

  I must stop this.

  This evening was going to be more challenging than he had anticipated.

  “Let us sit,” the Dowager Duchess said, and she turned gracefully. The rest of them followed and sat down.

  Caroline sat down and used all her strength to stop her silly smile from breaking out. Mr. Langley was right here in front of her, looking as tall and handsome as the first time she saw him. When he entered the room, she felt as if he was reading her mind like an open book.

  His eyes penetrated her soul, and for a moment, she was frightened she might faint from the intensity of his stare. Thankfully, her father was very talkative, which gave her plenty of opportunities to look in Mr. Langley’s direction.

  The first course, a Julienne soup, was brought to the table. Caroline ate slowly, wishing for this evening to be as long as possible. She was faintly aware of his surreptitious glances.

  “How was the match yesterday?” Her father asked her, just as the servants brought in the main course, mutton, to the table.

  “Is there ever any difference with these games, My Lord?” Caroline said playfully. “One team surely wins, the other loses.”

  “Are you a cricket man, Mr. Langley?” Lord Brighney turned his attention to Jasper, still laughing at Lady Caroline’s response.

  “I haven’t played for many years,” Mr. Langley said. “I did play every now and then, during my law studies.”

  “Jolly good,” Lord Brighney replied. “Every man should play a sport, I believe it invigorates and prolongs our life.”

  “I quite agree, My Lord.”

  “These games are much too violent,” the Dowager Duchess said reproachfully. “Yesterday, the players seemed adamant in drawing blood from their opponents.”

  “Come now, Your Grace.” Lord Brighney chuckled and took a bite of food.

  “I spoke with the Duchess of Aston yesterday, and she quite agreed with me.” The Dowager Duchess looked intently at Lord Brighney at these words.

  “Well, perhaps you’re right,” Lord Brighney replied, and for a moment, everyone ate in silence. Caroline could not lay her finger on it, but she was sure there was some hidden meaning or understanding between her aunt and father.

  Much too soon, the servants were bringing out the dessert. Caroline didn’t want the evening to end, but she was afraid to speak too much. She had begun to notice that her aunt seemed to be eyeing her every move now. Perhaps Caroline had been too forthcoming during the dinner conversation. When the dessert had been removed from the table, all excitement had left her. Her aunt would soon usher her to the drawing room, and she would be away from him again.

  “Come now, Caroline,” the Dowager Duchess said as she stood up, “Let us leave these two to talk.” Caroline obliged her aunt, but before she left the room, she looked at Mr. Langley. Their eyes locked for a sweet, wonderful moment, and when she could not chance it anymore, she bowed her head and followed her aunt.

  Later, she sat in a cushioned chair near the window. She was still dressed, even though she had retired to her room almost an hour ago. She had drunk tea with her aunt, who wished to talk about little else than the fast-approaching ball at Almack’s. The Dowager Duchess mentioned over and over how that night would be fruitful for Caroline, and how imperative it was that everything be perfect.

  Caroline was watching out the window, hoping to see Mr. Langley leaving. She would not be able to sleep, she was sure, if she did not see him one more time. Sudden movement outside made her sit upright in her chair. One of the footmen was bringing the carriage in front of the house. A wild and impossible idea popped into her mind.

  She stood up and rushed to the door. She peered outside and noticed the corridor was empty. If she hurried, she might be able to see him. She walked down the stairs, nervously looking around. It was very late and dark in the house. She managed to slip into the now empty drawing room, unnoticed. She stood in the darkness, next to the heavy drapes.

  Mr. Langley would need to walk through here if he and her father had been conversing in the parlor. Her heart thumped loudly inside her chest, and she prayed her father would remain behind. A door opened, and she heard footsteps approaching. Very carefully, she looked to see who it was. It was Mr. Langley. She stepped from the curtain and spoke softly, her voice not much louder than a whisper, “Fancy seeing you here.”

  Mr. Langley was visibly startled. “What are you doing here, My Lady?”

  “I was afraid I wouldn’t get to say goodnight to you.” She moved one step closer to him.

  “We should not be alone,” Mr. Langley said, looking nervously around him. Still, he took one step closer to her. Caroline could almost touch him. A strong scent that reminded her of books and strong coffee filled her senses. She longed for him to put his big strong arms around her and hold her tightly. His close proximity made her woozy, like a delicious glass of Madeira.

  “I had to see you. I fear it will be too long until we next meet.” She examined his hazel-green eyes. They were full of longing and passion. The look sent shivers down her spine, and her knees buckled.

  “Lady Caroline,” Mr. Langley said, slowly reaching his arm forward. Very gently, he took her hand in his. Caroline held her breath as he brought it slowly up to his lips. He kissed the back of her hand, so softly that she wondered if it had happened at all.

  “We will meet again,” he said, his voice fraught with emotions. The sound of footsteps outside the room caused him to break their eye contact. He still held her hand, though, and Caroline felt a warm blush travel up her chest to her neck.

  “I must go,” he said urgently. He let go of her hand and turned toward the door. Before he opened it, he turned to look at her one last time, “You should go to the library soon. There is a publication of the Justice of Peace that is very enlightening.” He gave her a sweet smile, and then he vanished down the hallway.

  Chapter 10

  Caroline was walking around in a daze. She could hardly hear what her aunt was telling her during breakfast. All she could think about was Mr. Langley’s lips on the back of her hand. Every time she closed her eyes, she was there again, in the dark drawing room, inhaling his masculine scent.

  She had not yet gone to her father’s library, as Mr. Langley had told her to do. Although she doubted she would have the time for that. Her aunt seemed intent on keeping her preoccupied, having planned Caroline’s entire day. She was to work on her embroidery after breakfast, then she was supposed to go outside to paint.

  She couldn’t for the life of her understand why her aunt would want her to paint, as she was terrible with a paintbrush. But this was expected from young ladies. Lady Anna was an excellent painter, and Caroline would have loved to spend an entire afternoon with her dear friend, painting and gossiping. Thinking about Lady Anna reminded her of their last conversation, and about the piece of paper she had carefully hidden inside her worktable.

  Her mind had been so preoccupied with meeting Mr. Langley that she had forgotten entirely about Emma and the other former maids. Perhaps an entire afternoon painting was a terrific idea, after all. She doubted that her aunt would want to stay with her the whole time, and that could give her the time and freedom to come up with a plan.

  Around lunchtime, after Caroline had been diligently stitching the decorative pillow she was working on, she excused herself, stating that she needed to change before going outside. In her room, she hastily changed, with the help of Madeleine, and then hurried to her worktable.

  “Here, take this.” Caroline handed Madeleine a piece of paper and her writing equipment, quill, ink jug, and sealing wax.

  “You need to make sure Her Grace will not see this,” she urged the confused Madeleine.

  “Of course, My Lady.” Madeleine nodded her head gravely and began placing the quill, ink, and wax in her skirt pocket.

  “You can put the paper with the painting supplies,” she said.

  “All right, My Lady,” Madeleine replied. Caroline grabbed the piece of
paper that Lady Anna had given her and hid it securely in her reticule.

  “I am also going to ask more of you.” Caroline stopped in front of Madeleine, taking a deep breath.

  “What is it, My Lady?” Madeleine’s face was inscrutable.

  “There is a book in my father’s library that I need you to go and get. I need you to bring it to me, but no one can see you,” Caroline said seriously.

  “I will do it,” Madeleine replied at once.

  “Wonderful! Let’s go paint.”

  Jasper walked to the courthouse, young Mr. Holmes following him, his hands filled with folders and papers. Jasper had been late to the office, but his mind was focused like it had not been for quite a while. The surprise meeting with Lady Caroline, the night before, had made his mind up. He wanted to fight for her, to prove himself worthy. The only way he could do that was by demonstrating that he was a man of substance. Even though it was only a slight chance, he would grab it with both hands. Now all he had to do, was keep the image of her out of his mind.

  He had to remain professional, not think about Lady Caroline’s delicate finger touching the palm of his hand, or her quivering breath.

  Jasper was on his way to proceed with the legal case for a recently widowed lady, whose stepson was trying to reduce her settlement to nothing. The widow had her late husband’s will, which attested that he wished for his wife to inherit all his belongings, but the stepson was claiming it was a forgery made by the widow.

  “Do you have the writing sample I asked you to find?” Jasper asked his junior assistant.

  “I do,” Mr. Holmes replied, moving his hand, trying to grab the document.

  “Good, we will not let them get away with their preposterous claim that the will was fabricated.” Jasper walked up the stairs to the courthouse. There he saw the stepson’s solicitor, Mr. Trembill, speaking with his client. Both of them had disgusting grins on their smug faces, and Jasper knew they were up to something.

  “If it isn’t Mr. Langley,” Mr. Trembill said mockingly. “You really ought to just go home, old chum. The judge will be utterly bored with your sanctimonious nonsense.” The stepson guffawed loudly at his solicitor’s jab.

  “Let’s go, Mr. Holmes, Lady Williams is waiting for us,” Jasper said sternly, not paying them any attention.

  I will not let these bastards get away with whatever they are up to.

  As Caroline had predicted, her aunt excused herself to go into the house after not even an hour outside. To be fair, it was rather warm outside, but Caroline was in a nice gazebo in the shade of a large tree. Her painting canvas was propped up, facing a rather attractive display of flowers of every color. The blooms reached up hungrily to the sun, and the faint buzzing of bees and the gentle spring breeze encompassed the scenery nicely. Not that it was apparent by the clumsily painted picture on the canvas.

  Caroline had continued painting for a long while after her aunt left, in case she would be looking out the window at her.

  “Is she still looking?” Caroline asked.

  “She has gone inside,” Madeleine said. She had been looking at the house surreptitiously ever since the Duchess left.

  “Oh, thank the heavens.” Caroline chuckled as she put down the paintbrush and sat down.

  “Did you manage to get the book?” She looked apprehensively at her maid. Madeleine rummaged in the basket with all the painting supplies and brought out a heavy-looking book, covered in a white cloth, which she removed.

  “The Justice of the Peace and Parish Officer.” Madeleine read out loud, handing Caroline the book. She opened the book gently and, right in the middle, was a carefully hidden letter. She took it out and handed Madeleine the book again.

  “I will stand here, in case Her Grace will return,” Madeleine added and positioned herself so she covered Caroline entirely from the line of sight.

  “Thank you.” Caroline unfolded the letter with trembling hands.

  Sweet Lady Caroline.

  Being closer to you has made me restless. I fear that I cannot proceed any longer, with any degree of contentment. I must speak with you, and my only means to reach you is through these empty words. My world no longer has any meaning, not without you beside me. In my dreams, we are close. We discuss worldly matters, for I see in you a mind sparkling with wit and kindness. Will there ever be a day where I can call you mine? I can hardly write. My soul wants only you, my heart yearns for you.

  Forever yours, J.L.

  Caroline dropped the letter, her eyes filled with tears. How could he write merely a few lines on paper, yet it felt as if he touched her very being? She reread his letter, then decided what she must write back. She asked Madeleine to hand her the paper and ink she had brought. The quill scratched the paper, as she wrote.

  Dearest Mr. Langley.

  My mind does not seem to be sure whether you are real. For how could someone as wonderful as you have appeared just as you did? Your hand has marked me with an emblem of love. I fear even writing the word. It is not proper for a young Lady like myself to write in such a way. But I cannot hide my true feelings. You have claimed me. I have an intense sensation that I will soon dissolve into a thousand pieces. Perhaps, that would allow me to fly away to you. I feel so very often hopeless. Hearing you speak of your work; about how you help others. It lit a flame within me, one that I know will never amount to anything. I wish I could assist those that face hardship, but I am powerless.

  I shall be miserable if I will never enjoy your touch again. You have forever changed me, and I cannot exist without you.

  Truly yours, C.B.

  “Did you bring the knife?” Caroline asked. “To sharpen the quill?”

  “Of course, My Lady.” Madeleine handed her the small, sharp knife, but gasped when Caroline moved it to her head and cut a small lock of her hair off, and tied the lock of hair together with a small piece of ribbon. Then she placed the lock into the middle of the paper, and carefully folded it. Madeleine helped her with the sealing wax, which was difficult to handle outside. Finally, the letter was ready, and not a moment too soon.

  “Her Grace is coming,” Madeleine said, sounding alarmed.

  “Here, take this.” Caroline thrust the letter in Madeleine’s hand, who grabbed the writing equipment and stuffed it, unceremoniously, into the basket.

  Caroline, feeling inspired by her writing, knew she must do something if she was ever going to find out more about Emma’s fate. Her only option would be to find a way to have her aunt bring her to town.

  “There has not been much improvement, I see,” The Dowager Duchess said, observing the painting.

  “Oh, I fear that I require a great deal more practice, Your Grace.” Caroline put down the paintbrush that she had just taken up as she pretended to be painting.

  “Well, I will not torment you any longer.” The Dowager Duchess signaled Caroline to follow her.

  She seems uncharacteristically cheerful.

  “The weather certainly is lovely today,” Caroline said conversationally.

  “It is, my dear.” The Dowager Duchess patted her arm affectionately. Caroline turned to face her aunt, planning her next words carefully.

  “I have made a terrible discovery recently, Your Grace.” Caroline tried her best to look concerned.

  “What is it, dear?” Her aunt stopped walking and looked apprehensive.

  “I fear that none of my hats will go with my lovely new gowns.” Caroline sighed dramatically. Her aunt was silent, as she seemed to ponder Caroline’s words. Finally, she said, “Well, we cannot have that. I will schedule a visit to the milliner at once.”

  This will be my chance. The milliner is not far from the address Lady Anna gave me.

  Caroline felt triumphant. They walked back into the house, Madeleine behind them, carrying the heavy basket with the painting supplies. The Dowager Duchess had just begun to say that she could also do with a new hat when Madeleine tripped, dropping the basket.

  The entire contents of it fle
w into the air, the paint was all over the impressive carpet, the ink jug smashed, and the quill lay nearby, covered in black ink. But the very worst part was the letter Caroline had just written. It had flown into the air and landed right in front of the Dowager Duchess.

  Caroline froze, her eyes wide. Madeleine looked close to tears. The Dowager Duchess’ head turned down at the sealed letter. To Caroline’s horror, her aunt bent down and picked it up. She would surely faint… As soon as her aunt opened the letter, all would be over.

  “Whose letter is this?” The Dowager Duchess asked, her tone dangerous. Caroline couldn’t say anything. She was rigid as she stood, paralyzed with fear.