Blayne stood. “You’re a good man, Guthrie. Better than most on account of your moral compass. But you’ve some ghosts to put to rest before you can think of living happily ever after.”
Carlton snorted in response. “Happily ever afters are fer children an’ dreamers, Blayne. I learned early on that it would be foolish to have such high expectations.”
Blayne went to the door. “I’ll see you in the courtyard then?”
When Carlton nodded, Blayne let himself out of the study and shut the door behind him. Carlton closed his eyes and attempted to clear his mind. He did not want to think of Regina or the fact that she was Charles Berkly’s daughter. He did not want to consider how she would react when she learned that he’d meant to use her to punish her father and lure him to his death.
For twenty years he’d been praying for just the right moment to arise – a moment when he would be strong and powerful enough to win against the man who haunted his nightmares.
He’d made his first attempt at ridding the world of the Earl of Hedgewick when he was fourteen and he’d managed to sneak his way into the mews behind Hedgewick House. While the stable hand collected water from a nearby pump, Carlton had cut the leather strap that secured the saddle to the horse Hedgewick rode. Unfortunately, the fall Hedgewick had taken later that morning while riding in the park had not broken his neck as Carlton had hoped. It had only damaged his leg.
The incident had led to heightened security at Hedgewick House and caused the earl to hire a new team of brawny footmen who accompanied him everywhere for a long time after. It was not until Carlton turned twenty that another opportunity had arisen.
Sensing that Hedgewick’s bodyguards had grown lax in their duties and that the earl himself no longer feared a threat, he’d entered the Berkly garden through the gate at the back and had finally found the earl alone for the first time in years. Or at least that was what he had thought when he’d spied him walking along a paved path and peering between the rhododendron bushes as if he was looking for something.
Eager to enact his revenge, Carlton had withdrawn the pistol he always carried in his pocket and had been about to take his aim when the squeaky voice of a child had asked, “Who are you and what are you doing in my garden?”
Hedgewick had instantly turned in Guthrie’s direction and for a brief second their eyes had locked from between the foliage. He still could have shot him, but instead he’d turned away and fled the same way that he’d come. But before the gate had closed behind him, he’d glanced back over his shoulder and been met by the petulant glare from the girl who’d just stopped him from killing her father.
Regina.
She would likely stop him again if he wasn’t careful. Whatever happened, he could not afford getting too attached to her or he’d have to live with regret for the rest of his life.
Absently, he glanced at a blank piece of paper that sat on his desk. He’d been meaning to write another letter to Hedgewick today – taunt him a little bit more with the hint of causing his daughter bodily harm. Instead, he swallowed the remains of his brandy and stood. The letter could wait. He’d much rather face a bare-knuckle boxer.
The roar of voices chanting in unison broke past the parlor walls and piqued Regina’s curiosity. What on earth was going on? It sounded as if The Black Swan was being invaded by pirates. Abandoning the rest of her dinner, Regina padded across the floor to the parlor door and pressed her ear to it. The shouting grew louder and she could now make out a few of the words, most notably, “Come on,” accompanied by some creative expletives involving duck tits and Zeus’s bare-arsed army of whores. When it came to swearing, it clearly didn’t have to make any sense.
Regina stepped back and stared at the door. She wasn’t supposed to leave the parlor alone. Especially not in the evenings when The Black Swan was filled to the brim by drunken patrons. And yet, it was clear that all the excitement was happening out there and that she was being excluded. Perhaps a quick peek would suffice? Just enough to gauge what was happening.
She opened the door a crack and looked out to check if MacNeil, Patrick, or Claus was there. None was present, which meant that whatever was happening must have made them forget about guarding her.
A cacophony of voices swept toward her on a wave of applause and hooting. And then they were back to shouting. “Punch him until he groans like a whore! Jab the bugger right under the chin! Aim for his bloody throat!”
Crikey.
She ought to have stepped back into the parlor and shut the door firmly behind her. Instead, the bloodthirsty instructions increased Regina’s curiosity. She moved forward steadily, until she was able to glance down into the courtyard below. And as she did so, her heart almost leapt up into her throat. Because there was Carlton, dressed in nothing but a pair of tight breeches as he faced a man who was just as scantily clad. Their arms were raised, muscles strained as they circled, dodged, and attacked.
A gasp escaped Regina’s lungs as she watched Carlton take a hit to his left cheek. But the punch barely nudged him, and he quickly responded with a blow to the other man’s chest. The crowd around them thickened as more people came to watch. They seemed to spill from the taproom with keen curiosity, pushing and shoving to better see what was going on.
Carlton’s opponent dodged a blow and then counter attacked with a hit that cut a deep gash on Carlton’s brow. Regina stared in horror as blood trickled into his eye and dripped onto his cheek. The spectacle was barbaric and yet she could not look away. Instead, she found herself riveted, not only by the match but by the man on whom she’d come to rely. He moved with the skill and grace of a warrior prince who’d done this countless times before. He wasn’t a stranger to being hit or to dealing blows in return – a fact he proved when he knocked his opponent’s nose sideways so hard she was certain she heard the bone crack.
And yet the fight continued even though both men now showed obvious signs of fatigue. Sweat dripped from their hair, dampening their foreheads, and sheens of perspiration sparkled upon their backs. Their movements slowed and Regina could tell by the labored rise and fall of their chests that catching their breath was becoming increasingly difficult.
How long would they continue? Until one of them fell to the ground unconscious? She did not like that idea at all, was tempted to turn away and return to the parlor, and yet, the masculine display of power Carlton exuded called to her feminine instincts. She wanted to run her hands over his body and feel those muscles flex beneath her fingers. She wanted his skin against hers with no barriers between them, to feel his weight pressing against her and…
“You know…”
Caught by surprise, she gasped and spun to find MacNeil watching her intently. A blush rushed to her cheeks at the chance of him having discerned the wayward direction her thoughts had taken. “I…” Embarrassed, she could think of nothing else to say, so she glanced back at the fight instead. Carlton was now pummeling his opponent, who was hunched slightly forward while he protected his face with his arms.
“He won’t like spotting you out here,” MacNeil continued. His tall broad shouldered frame filled the space beside her as he stepped closer to the railing.
Regina stared down into the courtyard. “I suppose you want me to go back inside then?”
MacNeil was silent for a second, as if distracted by the sudden break in rhythm that allowed Carlton’s opponent to fight back with swift and exacting motions. A jab caught Carlton’s chin, sending him into the crowd. They caught him but showed no mercy and shoved him back out to the other fighter.
“He’s too riled up to focus on his technique,” he muttered, not answering her question. “Look now. If he would have sidestepped, he could have swung round behind Finnegan and caught him by surprise. Instead, he’s left with no choice but to keep his guard up again.”
Regina frowned. “I thought he was doing quite well.”
MacNeil scoffed slightly, then smiled with the sort of kindness she wouldn’t have expected from a m
an as fierce looking as him. “He’s too distracted by a certain houseguest to focus. So yes, I probably should get you back inside. Before he sees you and has my head for not keeping you in his parlor.”
Regina stared up at MacNeil in surprise. Carlton was fighting poorly because of her? She blinked. His recent rejection had made her believe that she didn’t affect him as much as he did her. But maybe that wasn’t true. Perhaps if she really set her mind to it, she could have the night she wanted with him after all. Scrambling to put a quick plan into place, she nodded. “Of course. We should go. But if it’s not too much trouble, I’d like a word with Mrs. Harding.” His eyebrows lifted with obvious surprise at the mention of Amourette’s owner, so Regina hastened to add, “It pertains to a female matter.”
Her words seemed to cut the hulking man down by a couple of inches. He glanced sideways and cleared his throat. “Is it…um…urgent?”
“Yes.” If she was going to seduce an experienced man like Carlton, she’d need to know a thing or two about lovemaking first.
“Then you may expect her visit shortly.”
“And Guthrie?” Regina nodded toward the courtyard where Carlton’s arm was being raised to convey his victory. Focused or not, he’d still managed to win the fight, but exhaustion was evident in his slumped posture. Regina’s every instinct made her want to take care of him, to wash the dirt from his body and soothe his bruises with cool compresses.
“You mustn’t worry about him. I’ll tend to his wounds after calling on Mrs. Harding.”
10
From an orderly life that always went according to plan, to this. Regina almost laughed as she poured a measure of sherry into a pair of glasses. She handed one to Mrs. Harding, who thanked her before taking a sip. Who would have thought that she, the dutiful daughter of an earl, would be entertaining a bawd in a crime lord’s parlor? It was so bizarre she almost wondered if it were a dream from which she would soon awaken.
“What can I help you with, dear?” Mrs. Harding’s expression was both welcoming and kind. Her eyes were a dark shade of green, like the color of moss that hid in a forest’s shadows, her hair a bright, curly red. “I brought some cotton pads in case it’s your time of the month and you need them.”
“Thank you.” Regina accepted the parcel Mrs. Harding gave her. She hadn’t considered how she would handle her menses, but she would probably have to figure that out in about one week, so having the pads handy was welcome. Setting the parcel aside, Regina took a sip of her drink. “There’s actually something else on my mind – a matter on which I hope you’ll be able to advise me.”
Mrs. Harding’s eyes widened with interest. “I shall certainly strive to do my best.”
Regina nodded. Her awareness of Carlton and the unfamiliar desire he stirred in her, the need she felt for something more between them, compelled her to educate herself on a matter she wasn’t supposed to know anything about until her wedding day. She’d always been told that a lady had to preserve her innocence at all cost. It must not be offered to any other man than her husband. The very idea that she would consider doing so could lead to scandal and ruin and eternal damnation.
And yet, nothing had ever felt more right than being wrapped in Carlton’s embrace or feeling his lips upon hers. So she hoped Mrs. Harding could help enlighten her a little on a subject she knew next to nothing about. The lady in question stared at her expectantly, though not with any indication of wishing to rush her.
“I was wondering if you might explain something to me. Something of a…um…delicate nature.” When Mrs. Harding didn’t blink, Regina groaned and reached for her glass again. She took another sip to bolster her courage and then blurted, “I would like for you to teach me about the intimacies that can occur between men and women who like each other. You should know that I haven’t a clue about any of it.” She frowned. “Besides kissing, that is.”
To her utmost relief, Mrs. Harding looked neither shocked nor perplexed. She merely tilted her head a little and smiled. “Would it be presumptuous of me to assume that your interest is connected to Mr. Guthrie?”
Regina swallowed. She was probably as red as a lobster by now. “It would appear that he and I share a mutual attraction to each other.” Her words were not as confident as she had hoped they would be. Instead they conveyed the uncertainty of someone about to traverse unknown territory without a map to guide them.
“And he’s kissed you, you say?” When Regina didn’t answer, Mrs. Harding said, “Or did you learn about that with someone else?”
Regina shook her head. Nervously, she clutched the fabric of her skirt. “No. There has been no one else.”
Mrs. Harding sank back against her seat with a satisfied smile. “And now you’re curious to know why your body responds as it does to his touch and whether or not you should give yourself to him more fully. Is that it?”
A squeak was all Regina could manage by way of answer.
“I see.” The older woman nodded while studying Regina with great consideration. “Has he made an attempt to seduce you into his bed?”
“No. I mean, I sleep in it every night but he stays in here on the sofa.”
“Which means that he cares enough about you to put you ahead of his own needs. Which is rather remarkable when considering his sexual appetite.” She blinked upon seeing Regina’s startled expression. “Forgive me. I know you do not wish to hear about that. It is just that I’ve known Guthrie such a long time.”
“Please. You mustn’t apologize. I…” Regina pressed her lips together and forced her shaky voice under control. “I don’t just want to learn about the…um…sexual act itself and what it entails. Part of the reason I asked you here was also because of the vast experience Guthrie has with women who know what they’re doing. And if he and I were to…um…you know…” She took a deep breath and then said, “Well, I’d hate for him to be disappointed.”
“My dear. That would be quite impossible.”
“How do you know?”
“Because no meaningless tumble with a courtesan will ever be better for a man than making love to the woman he’s emotionally attached to.”
“Even so, I would like to be as prepared as possible.”
“And so you shall be.” Mrs. Harding rose and proceeded to pace the room while studying the various books that were stacked on the floor. She selected a few before moving to the book case where she picked out an additional one. “These will be helpful,” she said as she sat down beside Regina and opened one of the books to the most shocking picture Regina had ever seen.
“Now then,” Mrs. Harding proceeded, as matter of factly as a seasoned school teacher, “As you can see from these pictures, a man’s body is very different from that of a woman’s.” She turned a page. “As such, they’re made to fit together, like so.” The technical detachment with which she went on to describe the sexual act itself, allowed Regina to consider the subject as if it was nothing more than a mathematical equation or a new scientific discovery.
“What about that,” Regina asked, pointing to another image later in the book. “It looks rather awkward.”
“Oh, most of it is, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be enjoyable.”
With a sigh, Regina slumped back against the sofa cushions. “I thought all of this would help me. Instead, I’m even more confused and uncertain of what to do.”
“It’s a big decision. Your parents would probably have me flogged if they learned what I’ve told you this evening.” She closed the three books they’d been using and placed them on the sofa table. “My advice to you would be to refrain from rushing into something so permanent unless you’re prepared to live with the consequences.”
“You’re right,” Regina agreed even though she’d already made her decision. After everything she’d just learned, there was no man in the world to whom she’d rather lose her innocence than Carlton Guthrie. He was like a magnate, drawing her to him with unforgiving force. With him, she had no doubt that the experience wo
uld be glorious.
“I’d also hate to see your heart broken,” Mrs. Harding said as she stood.
The door opened before Regina was able to come to terms with such a possibility. She stared at Carlton, whose own surprise showed when he spotted Regina’s guest. While his breeches hinted at his recent activity, his shirt was neat, his cravat perfectly tied and his face completely clean. The only evidence he’d been struck was the cut on his brow and a bruise on the left side of his jaw. His hair, however, was wet, suggesting he’d just come from a bath.
“Good evenin,’ Philipa. I didn’t expect to find ye here.”
“I asked MacNeil to send for her,” Regina told him. She gestured toward the parcel Mrs. Harding had given her earlier. “There are certain eventualities for which I must prepare. When Mrs. Harding and I last met, she told me to let her know if there was ever anything I needed, and so I have.”
“I see.” Carlton stepped further into the room and away from the door. “If ye’ll excuse me, I need a change of clothes.” He strode toward the bedroom but stopped before entering it. Glancing back at Regina, he asked, “Ye don’t mind me goin’ in there, do ye?”
The fact that he would ask if it was all right for him to enter his own bedchamber made something warm and fuzzy bloom inside her. She shook her head. “Of course not.”
With a curt nod, he continued forward and shut the door firmly behind him.
“I must be off,” Mrs. Harding said. She hesitated briefly, then quietly said, “I hope I’ve been helpful.”
Regina rose and went toward her so she could clasp the woman’s hands between her own as a sign of appreciation. “Most assuredly so.”
Mrs. Harding smiled. “Well then. If there’s anything else you need, you know where to find me.”
Thanking her, Regina saw her out the door and waited until she’d started down the stairs. Turning, she prepared to close the door when a movement caught the corner of her eye. Glancing sideways, she spotted Patrick who was leaning back against the walkway railing while watching her with a lopsided smirk and a gleam in his eyes.
The Forgotten Duke Page 13