“I can assure ye that there was no lapse in judgment, Regina.” He placed his free hand over hers and deliberately drew a circle against her skin with his thumb. “What happened back there was my capitulation – a helpless surrender to yer irresistible charm.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?” He wasn’t so sure that he liked such a simple response to his open confession. His masculinity would certainly have preferred it if she’d rejoiced with vocal exuberance over him finally giving her what she’d been longing for too.
“Does that mean you’ll kiss me again?”
He hesitated on the cusp of blurting out yes. Instead he asked, “Would ye like me to?”
She was quiet so long he started to fear she’d say no. Because he would respect that and stay away from her if she insisted upon it. But then, when he was about to lose hope, she fanned it to life with one simple statement. “Yes, Carlton. I would like that a lot.”
9
For the next two days, Regina’s mind was occupied by the memory of her second kiss with Guthrie. Carlton. She scrunched her nose. That name didn’t quite suit him. Much like the mustache, it seemed out of place. But both were a part of the man she’d come to care for, and all it had taken was a couple of weeks in his company.
If only he would turn out to be more than the son of an artist – the sort of man with whom she might consider sharing her future. She pursed her lips and considered. The pearl-tipped pin, the silk waistcoat, and the red ribbon bearing some unseen honor didn’t quite square with the low-ranking man Carlton claimed his father to be.
She’d promised him that she’d refrain from going through his things, but he had allowed her to use his desk, so a quick peek inside the drawers wouldn’t exactly be prying. Would it?
Crossing to the piece of furniture, she hesitated briefly before taking a seat and opening the first drawer. It was filled with scraps of paper, some tobacco, a broken quill, and a couple of notebooks. Selecting one, she leafed through it quickly. When she saw that it was unused, she picked up the other, her expectations of making some sort of intriguing discovery almost depleted. Until she opened the book.
An elegant hand comprised of bold letters filled the first page, drawing Regina’s gaze in and compelling her to read.
* * *
The heavens rage
While angels weep
A young boy’s world forever changed.
Once safe from harm
No longer so
His heart once whole exists no more.
And he who dared
To cause such pain
Shall one day face that boy again.
* * *
“What do ye think ye’re doin?”
Startled by Guthrie’s voice, Regina dropped the notebook and stood. “I…” She hadn’t heard him come in, she’d been so caught up in the poem and what it might mean. Swallowing, she tried to ignore the knot in her belly and how her hands started to tremble. He didn’t exactly look angry, but he certainly didn’t look happy either.
His gaze dropped to the notebook now lying on the floor near her feat. “I thought ye agreed to stay out of me things.”
“Yes. Of course. I’m sorry.” She bent to retrieve the book and when she rose, he was there, much closer than before and with his hand held out. Regretting her choice to intrude on his privacy once again, she handed him the book. “But you did say that I could use the desk and—”
“And that gave ye reason to think that ye could just riffle through me drawers? Read things that aren’t yers to read?”
“I’m sorry.”
“So ye’ve said before.” Leaning past her, he returned the book to the drawer and closed it. When he straightened himself, his eyebrows were drawn together with what appeared to be deep concern. “If this is how ye were taught to repay hospitality, I dare say yer education was sorely lackin’”
His remark cut her to the quick and made her feel underserving of his generosity. “I just…I want to know more about you.”
He inhaled deeply and a tick at the edge of his eye informed her that he was struggling to keep his composure – that she’d angered him more than he was willing to show. “Perhaps you’d prefer to return to yer home, me lady?”
Regina stared at him while the thought of doing so settled in her mind. She shook her head. “No. I…I cannot do that. At least not until I am married to the man of my choosing.”
He held her gaze until she was forced to shift with discomfort. “In that case, I’d suggest that ye treat yer host with a bit more respect.” And on that note, he located a key and locked the drawer. “One more chance. That’s all I’ll give ye.”
Regina nodded and waited for him to leave the room before lowering herself to the chair once more. The man she’d kissed at Vauxhall had vanished, for which she had only herself to blame. Heavy hearted, she glanced at the door through which he’d made his exit and decided that she would have to do better. Carlton Guthrie deserved her compliance and thanks. If he was hiding something important about himself, she would simply have to accept that she’d never know what that something might be.
Sitting on the yellow velvet sofa in Carlton’s parlor the following day with her feet tucked up underneath her, Regina pushed a needle and thread through a piece of fine linen. A message from Fielding had arrived the previous evening, declining her proposal to meet and discuss a potential union between them. Apparently, he was already engaged in a courtship with someone else. Disappointed, Regina had written the Earl of Yates that morning, not because she actually wanted to marry him, but because she wasn’t sure what else to do and was starting to feel slightly desperate.
When she’d handed the letter to Carlton and asked if he would make sure that it reached its destination, she’d done so with the awareness that he owed her nothing. And because of this and the need she’d felt to get back in his good graces, she’d asked him if he had any mending with which she could busy herself.
“Mendin’?” He’d stared at her, incredulous. “Ye’re a lady, Regina, not a maid. I’ll not ’ave ye doin’ chores fer me, luv.”
Oh, how she loved that endearment. It lifted her spirits even though she was well aware it was no more than a turn of phrase commonly used to address a woman. Any woman. Not only her.
“I’m not a porcelain doll to be placed on a shelf. There’s no reason why I can’t be useful to you in some way.”
The look he’d given her in response had turned her blood to molten lava. “Ye’re useful to me in every way that matters.” This statement had been followed by a kiss, milder than the one at Vauxhall and far more deliberate. By contrast, it had been a slow exploration filled with endless tenderness. The sort that told her she’d been forgiven, the kind that could easily fill her head with dreams of things that would never be.
When it ended, she had lowered her voice to a sensual whisper and said, “Letting me help you in some small way would make me feel better.” Like she was actively doing something to earn back his trust and appreciation. “I need to busy myself, Carlton. I cannot just sit in this room, always waiting for you.”
* * *
“And if I say no?”
She’d smiled at him with a touch of mischief. “Then I’ll probably start organizing your books by color.”
“The devil ye will,” he’d muttered, upon which he’d kissed her again. But he’d accepted her need to pass the time in some way besides reading and had given her a couple of shirts.
Careful to keep her stitches small, neat, and close together, Regina worked on the torn seam of a sleeve. It pleased her to know that she could do this small task for a man who had done so much for her. He’d told her that she was welcome to stay at The Black Swan as long as she wished, and so she would. At least until she received an offer of marriage compelling enough to make her leave.
The door opened and Regina glanced up. “There’s still no hint of what ’appened to ’er,” Carlton said as he entered the room. Slumping into the nearest armchai
r, he removed his hat and set it aside on the floor. Every day and night since Scarlet’s disappearance, he’d gone out searching for her and making inquiries, but it was as if the young woman had never existed in the first place.
“Do you think she might be dead?” It was a reasonable conclusion at this point, however much Regina regretted having to think it. But she knew from what Katarina had suffered when she’d been kidnapped that there were fates worse than death. Although no one had ever told her exactly what her friend had gone through, she’d been able to guess. A young outgoing woman about to make her debut did not become reclusive without good reason. At the time, Regina had imagined that Katarina had been locked away in some miserable place and beaten, but after learning what some men were capable of, she believed her friend had also been raped.
* * *
“I don’t know.” He raked his fingers through his hair in obvious frustration. “People sometimes disappear without explanation. It’s startin’ to look like this is such an instance.”
Setting her mending aside, Regina crossed to where he sat and placed her hand against his cheek. “I’m sorry.” She could see the toll Scarlet’s disappearance was having on him and wished there were more she could do to ease the burden he carried – this feeling that he was responsible for the welfare of everyone who lived in St. Giles.
He placed his hand against hers and leaned his face into it. His eyes closed and he took a deep breath as if shedding some great weight from his body. And then, faster than the lash of a whip, he wound his arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap.
She let out a squeal of surprise as her bottom connected with his thighs. Hugging her close, he chuckled in response before seeking her mouth with his own. This kiss was hungry, and far more demanding than any of the others. It told her that he hoped to escape, to forget the defeat he suffered from not finding Scarlet alive or succeeding in bringing her home. So Regina allowed him to take what he wanted. She pushed her fingers through his hair and pressed herself closer, showing him without words that she needed him just as much as he needed her.
“Regina.” Her name whispered across her neck as he kissed his way down to her shoulder. It made her wish for the hundredth time that they could somehow find a way to be together.
If only…
He nipped at her skin, producing a lovely shudder that tickled her spine, before planting a kiss on her forehead and easing her out of his lap. “I appreciate the comfort of yer arms,” he said, rising as well, “but it’s probably wise fer us to stop now before things get out of hand.”
He always did this, pushing her away when she started longing for more. In a way, it was yet another reason for her to trust him, and yet the end result was increased frustration on her part. For even though common sense and a good solid upbringing told her she ought to protect her innocence at all cost, she couldn’t help but wonder if losing it to Carlton wouldn’t be worth every wonderful moment.
So she said the only thing she could think of. The only thing that made sense in her current state of rejection. “You don’t really want me, do you?”
He was silent for a moment and then he moved. One second later, she was back in his arms with her face pressed against his chest. Sturdy arms surrounded her, keeping her safe while the rich scent of brandy, coffee, and sandalwood toyed with her senses.
“I’ve ’ad whores, widows, actresses…ye name it. Women by the ’undreds. Most of whom I don’t remember.”
Hating what he was telling her, Regina tried to pull away and to somehow escape the truth and the gnawing jealousy it evoked deep inside her. But he held her fast, without mercy as he continued. “None of them mattered. They were just a necessary tup ’ere an’ there to keep me from losin’ me mind. A man needs that, ye know. But ye…
“Ah, Regina, me luv, ye’re more to me than all of them put together. Ye’re the light that was once snuffed out in me life, the fresh air I long to breathe. The more I’m with ye, the more unwillin’ I am to see ye go.”
Clutching at him, she looked up into his hungry gaze. “What exactly does that mean?”
He smiled as though she meant more to him than all the treasure in the world. “It means that I won’t be the man who ruins ye fer another. Ye’ve a future that cannot include me, luv, and I’d hate to be yer biggest regret.”
Closing her eyes, she fought the disappointment that wanted to claim her and tried to appreciate his honesty. While other men in his position might have whispered sweet promises in her ear until she climbed into their beds, Carlton was trying to protect her.
Reluctantly, she released her hold on his jacket and withdrew from his embrace. “I’ll never regret anything you and I choose to do together. You mean too much to me for that.”
He stared at her intently, then turned and strode to the door. Pausing there with his hand on the handle, he glanced at her over his shoulder. “I beg to differ.” When she remained silent, he exited the room with the assurance that he would have food sent up to her soon.
Feeling numb, Regina returned to the sofa on wooden legs and dropped heavily onto the plush velvet seat. Had she really just propositioned Carlton Guthrie, renowned criminal – a man who’d confessed to murder – and been turned down?
Flopping back against a cushion, she eyed the shirt she’d been working on earlier and pulled it into her lap. If things went according to plan, she’d end up marrying Yates or whoever was on her list after him. Not for love, but out of necessity. Which was why she wanted Carlton to be the man who showed her where kisses could lead. Because he meant more to her than the man she married would.
She was choosing him with her heart.
Every muscle in Carlton’s body quivered and flexed with pent up tension as he strode into his study after ordering Laura to take a dinner tray up to Regina. Blayne, who’d been chatting with Patrick and Claus at a nearby table, had frowned in response to his brusque tone and was now in the process of pouring two glasses of brandy. He set one on the desk in front of Carlton before claiming the chair that stood opposite his.
Carlton stared at the amber liquid for a long-drawn-out moment before capitulating and setting the glass to his lips. He downed the contents, satisfied with the low burn in his throat and the heat now filling his chest. “Are the men ready fer this evenin’s match?”
Blayne nodded. “Finnegan’s already growing restless.”
Carlton wasn’t surprised. His fighters were used to throwing punches at least three times a week, but with Regina’s arrival and Scarlet’s disappearance, Carlton hadn’t had the time to arrange or host the events.
“I was goin’ to ’ave ’im go up against Hunter before lettin’ volunteers try an’ best ’im. Make a show of it as we always do. But I think I’d rather face ’im meself.”
Blayne raised an eyebrow. “I see.” When Carlton stared back, the Scotsman gave a low chuckle. “She’s starting to get to you, isn’t she?”
“I’ve no idea what ye mean.”
“Ah, come off it.” Carlton glared and Blayne threw up his hands. Rising, he went to fetch the decanter so he could refill his friend’s glass. “That lovely little skirt upstairs has you wound up tighter than a hangman’s noose.”
Anger pulsed through Carlton’s veins. “Ye’ll speak of ’er with respect, man, or not at all. Is that understood?”
Blayne sank back into his chair with a sigh. “You’ve broken your own bloody rule, haven’t you? You’ve taken a liking to the chit you’re supposed to feel cool detachment toward.” When Carlton said nothing, Blayne started to laugh. “For Christ’s sake, I was only teasing when I said you were falling for her. I didnae think you would actually go and do it.”
“I’ll admit that my resilience is being tested,” Carlton grumbled.
Blayne narrowed his gaze. “Is that so?”
“She…affects me and…” He reached for his glass.
“And you want her in your bed now, don’t you?” When Carlton merely proceeded to drink his brandy, Bl
ayne leaned forward in his seat. “You cannae do that to her, Guthrie. It wouldnae be fair.”
“Not even in light of who she is?” Blayne’s eyes darkened with understanding. “Imagine the satisfaction of telling her father I’ve robbed his daughter of her most precious asset. Of letting him know that she gave herself to me willingly. I can just envision him going white with rage. He’ll—”
“Stop.” Blayne’s curt word of command cut Carlton off. “You’re frustrated, in the worst possible way a man can be frustrated, and as a result you’re saying things you don’t really mean. You care for Lady Regina. Admit it! You’d never treat her so callously as to use her only to cast her aside. I’ve seen the way you look at her, damn you. It’s not ideal ‘cause it doesnae work in your favor and certainly not according to your plan, but that doesnae make it less true.”
Carlton stared at Blayne’s outraged expression. His face was red, his mouth firmly set. “Ye’re right,” Carlton muttered after a pause. He raked his fingers through his hair and sighed. “I’ll not treat her ill. If anythin’, I’ll care fer her an’ protect her as long as she’ll let me.”
“And?”
Glowering, Carlton gritted, “I’ll not discuss any intimacies with ye.”
“Understood. Just…promise me that you’ll think things through so you don’t do something you’ll both regret.”
Carlton’s lips twisted. “Why the hell do ye think I’m sittin’ here tellin’ ye I’m gonna be the one fightin’ Finnegan, instead of upstairs enjoyin’ a tasty meal with the woman I want?”
“Point taken.” Blayne leaned forward in his seat. “How are you sleeping these days?”
“I’ve not had any bad dreams since the last one I mentioned, which was what? A week ago or more? An’ if it’s Regina ye’re worried about, ye may rest assured that she locks her bedchamber door every night. I’ve checked.”
The Forgotten Duke Page 12