A watery chuckle greeted his words. ‘Thank you.’ She raised her head, smiling slightly, but as she reached for the handkerchief he pulled his hand away.
‘No, let me do it.’ She stood quietly, her face uplifted, while he wiped her cheeks. ‘There, that’s better.’ He kissed the tip of her nose. She stood mutely looking up at him, her eyes huge and dark in her pale face, her lips full and lush. Irresistible. Gently, he slid his lips over hers. Just one kiss, he told himself, just one moment of happiness before he gave her up for ever.
Carlotta closed her eyes as his mouth found hers. It was supremely comforting, having Luke so close to her. Her hands slid up around his neck. Just once, she told herself, just one last, treasured moment to remember in the bleak years that stretched ahead of her. It was her last conscious thought. Luke’s mouth became harder, more demanding and she gave herself up to the pleasurable sensations he was arousing within her. She pressed herself against his hard, aroused body and felt her insides liquefy. An urgent and irrepressible need consumed her. Luke pushed aside her cloak, his hands sliding over her shoulders, then he was cupping her breast, his thumb circling, teasing until she was pushing hard against him, her thighs aching, her body tingling with an anticipation she did not understand. His mouth trailed lightly across her neck, his breath tickling her skin, his touch sending little darts of heat through her body. She drove her fingers through his hair and gave a little moan of pleasure.
Desire surged through Luke, fuelled by elation as Carlotta leaned against him, her body inviting his caresses. He pushed her back gently, trapping her against a tree. His tongue flickered over the silky smooth skin of her shoulder, nibbled gently at her collarbone before his mouth moved on to explore the soft swell of her breasts. He pushed aside the thin muslin and took one hard erect nipple in his mouth, his tongue circling slowly while Carlotta arched against him, her responses driving all other thoughts from his mind. Her hands tangled in his hair, then, as the fingers of her left hand slid down to caress his cheek, he felt the hard, unyielding metal of the ring upon her finger.
It was a little touch, but it was enough. It reminded him that Carlotta was to be another man’s wife. Slowly Luke raised his head, listening to his own ragged breathing. He would not do this. He would not take what did not belong to him. Carlotta was looking up at him, her eyes large and luminous with desire. He could take her now; he knew she was willing, but he remembered the vow he had made to himself twelve months ago, that he would not ruin her. His own private devil whispered that no one need ever know, she would not be the first bride to go to her husband without her virginity, but it would not do. She would know, and she was too honest, too innocent to live with that secret—it would ruin any chance she had of happiness with her husband.
‘Luke, what is it?’
He kissed her, one final, light touch of the lips. ‘No more, sweetheart. I am promised to protect you, and I must get you back to the Court before I dishonour you completely.’
She was watching him, the signs of doubt on her face. ‘Do you not…want me?’
He heard the uncertainty in her voice. It tore at his heart. ‘Want you! Heaven and earth, love, you’ll never know how much!’ He cupped her face with one hand, saying gently, ‘I will not take another man’s bride, Carlotta. It would bring us all pain. Believe me, I know, I have seen it happen too many times.’ He moved away from her, away from temptation. ‘I will not lie to you—I have had my share of mistresses, but it has always been a game understood by both parties. We enjoyed each other, then moved on, with no regrets, no broken hearts—until now. I will not risk yours.’
Carlotta was confused. Her heightened senses were aware of the balmy stillness of the night and the moon sailing overhead, so calm and serene. Yet here, within the shadow of the trees, there was an atmosphere of suppressed passion. She felt as if she had been rudely awakened from a lovely dream, where she and Luke loved each other, and nothing else mattered. Now he talked of risks, and broken hearts. She gave a shaky laugh. ‘It is too late for that, I think.’
‘But not too late for you to be happy.’
She put a hand to her head, trying to think clearly. ‘I—I do not understand.’ She heard him sigh.
‘No, you are too innocent, but believe me, it is for the best. You must marry Woollatt with a clear conscience. You deserve that. He deserves it.’
A line from a poem darted into her head and she murmured the words,
“‘I could not love thee, dear, so much, loved I not honour more.’”
He looked at her. ‘What was that?’
She gave him a sad little smile.
‘You are a good man, Luke Ainslowe.’ She held out her hand. ‘Will you take me back to the Court, now?’
Hand in hand they walked through the park; as Luke opened the gate into the walled garden, Carlotta looked up at him.
‘You will not go?’ she said. ‘Even though my parents are moved to safety, you will stay?’
‘I am promised to help James track down the attackers.’
‘Then I won’t lose you just yet.’
He followed her into the garden. ‘It would be less painful if we did not see each other.’
‘But we must grow accustomed,’ she reasoned. ‘We move in the same circles, we cannot avoid seeing each other.’
‘I will not be in town so often in the future. I have spent much of the past year on my estates, trying to bring them back into shape. I have made some progress, but there is a great deal yet to do.’
She sighed. He had withdrawn from her, as he must. They were moving silently along in the shadow of the garden wall towards the side door of the house, creeping along like a couple of robbers, or lovers. With a gasp Carlotta stopped and reached out to grab Luke’s sleeve.
‘I have just remembered something. Last night, I did not sleep very well and was looking out of my window—it was just before dawn, the sun had not risen, but it was growing light—I saw someone here, in the garden. A cloaked figure keeping to the shadow of the wall. It could be nothing. At the time I thought it was a servant, coming back from a tryst with his maid—’
‘You are sure it was a man?’
‘Yes, I think so…that is—yes, it was a man; it moved like a man.’
Luke frowned. ‘The figure was coming towards this door? This wing is used only for guests and their personal servants.’
‘Do you think someone from here set fire to my parents’ house?’ She shivered, suddenly fearful.
‘That is what we must discover,’ murmured Luke. He pulled her into his arms for a brief moment. ‘You must try not to worry, cara.’
‘I am not at all afraid when you are with me,’ she murmured into his coat. Gently he disentangled himself from her arms.
‘You must go back to your room,’ he said softly. ‘Let us see if the side door is unlocked, as we left it.’
Chapter Thirteen
‘Carlotta, my dear, are you ill? You are looking very pale.’
No wonder, thought Carlotta, entering the breakfast room, I spent half the night wandering the park with Luke, and the other half lying awake, thinking about him. Damn the man! Oh, Luke…
‘I slept ill last night, Aunt.’ She smiled at the guests gathered around the table, as if to apologise for not looking her best for them. Luke, she noted, was not present.
‘Too much excitement, perhaps, Miss Rivington?’ Sir Gilbert waved away the footman and held the chair for her himself. Carlotta would have preferred to sit beside her aunt rather than across the table, where she must face her close scrutiny, but she could not bring herself to refuse Sir Gilbert’s courtesy.
‘I know what it is,’ declared Mr Price. ‘She is missing her swain. Am I not right, Miss Rivington?’
‘Perhaps.’
‘I am afraid I cannot divert you with any outdoor pursuits,’ announced Adele. ‘The inclement weather has put an end to hopes of that.’
Everyone present glanced towards the windows and the steady rain pourin
g down.
‘I only hope we will not have to cancel our shooting party,’ remarked Mr Price, addressing himself again to his breakfast.
‘Lord, no.’ Sir Gilbert laughed. ‘That is two days hence; the weather will have changed by then.’
‘But it will be excessively muddy,’ pointed out Mrs Ainslowe.
‘Then it is a good thing we shall not be dining with you.’ Her husband laughed.
‘The gentlemen have decided that when they have finished shooting they will retire to the bathhouse,’ explained Mrs Ainslowe, observing Lady Broxted’s puzzled look. ‘We shall be left to enjoy a quiet dinner here at the Court, where we may gossip and chatter to our hearts’ content.’
‘It means we shall not be bringing our dirt back to the house.’ James grinned. ‘There is nothing that annoys the ladies more than to have our muddy footprints all over the floors.’
Lord Broxted turned to his wife. ‘Ainslowe mentioned it to me yesterday, and I had meant to tell you, my dear—I hope you do not object?’
‘Not in the least. I am sure you will all enjoy getting excessively dirty, and we shall spend a very pleasant day without you, I have no doubt.’
‘I just wish it was fine today.’ Adele sighed. ‘I did so wish to take Carlotta for a ride in the gig.’
‘Perhaps it is for the best that you do not go,’ put in Lady Broxted. ‘Mr Woollatt is very anxious for Carlotta’s safety.’
‘Then we must hope tomorrow is dry, so that we can drive out before he returns,’ retorted Carlotta. Her aunt’s look of surprise made her flush and she added more gently, ‘I am sure it is perfectly safe, ma’am, and I would not have him worry over me.’
‘Of course he will worry!’ Mrs Price put down her piece of toast and shook her head at Carlotta. ‘Lord, what a strange notion! It is a very good sign that Mr Woollatt is concerned for you, my dear, it shows he means to take very good care of you when you are married!’
Carlotta pinned on a smile, but inside she was already feeling constricted by that invisible mesh of solicitude.
The rain was succeeded by a drizzling mist that kept the house party indoors. Adele invited everyone to the library to play charades, an idea eagerly taken up by most of the younger guests and improved upon by Sir Gilbert, who suggested that the ballroom would offer more scope for their theatricals. Lady Broxted and Mrs Price decided to adjourn to the morning room and Carlotta chose to remain close to her aunt, determined to avoid all male company. The older ladies settled down to while away the afternoon with their books and desultory conversation, and Carlotta carried her embroidery frame to a chair by one of the far windows where she was not overlooked. She kept her head bent over her work, and, if the memory of Luke’s embraces sometimes made her set a stitch awry, at least there was no one to observe it.
However, she was heartily bored with her occupation by the afternoon and was relieved when Adele came in and announced she was going out.
‘The weather is clearing and I am going to take a walk before dinner. Who will join me?’
‘Dear me—walking, so late in the day?’ said Lady Broxted, glancing at the pretty ormolu clock on the side table.
Adele laughed. ‘There is an hour or more before we need to even think of changing for dinner, that is time and enough to take the air.’
‘I stand in awe of your energy, Mrs Ainslowe,’ said Mrs Price, waving her fan. ‘I vow I am quite fatigued, and was about to suggest to Lady Broxted that we should retire now to rest until the dinner hour.’
‘An excellent idea, ma’am,’ agreed Lady Broxted. ‘I fear you will have to excuse us from your little outing, Mrs Ainslowe.’
Carlotta wondered how they could possibly be tired when they had done nothing but sit down since breakfast. Something of her thoughts must have shown in her face, for Adele was looking at her with a very decided twinkle in her eyes.
‘Then Julia and I will be going for a walk on our own, unless I can persuade Miss Rivington to join us?’
‘Just the two of you, ma’am? No gentlemen?’
‘Alas, no. They have decided they would prefer to play billiards. So you see, it will be a very small little party. Will you come?’
Reassured that there would be no danger of meeting Luke, Carlotta gladly put aside her embroidery and accepted the invitation.
‘How fresh the air is!’ declared Adele as they set off into the park. ‘I declare I am quite stifled, being confined to the house all day. We are all wearing very sensible half-boots, I see. I thought we might take the path around the lake, it is newly completed and should not be too muddy, despite the rain. Are we agreed? Good. Onward, then!’
Adele’s brisk walking pace suited her young companions very well. A stiff breeze had blown away the low cloud and after the recent rain the colours of the park seemed enhanced in the sparkling sunlight. Carlotta was very glad to be out of doors. The exercise soothed her ragged nerves and she walked along in silence, happy to allow her mind to wander freely. Adele was drawing Julia out, gently encouraging her to talk, but Carlotta paid little heed to them or to their direction until the meandering path brought them in sight of a large square building, its fluted columns and stone portico reminiscent of a Greek temple. When she had seen it last it had been little more than a neglected shell, but now the windows had been glazed and the solid oak doors repaired.
‘Ah, the bathhouse,’ said Adele. ‘There are some very fine murals in here, I understand. Shall we go in and look?’
Julia stopped. ‘Oh, but…is this not the gentlemen’s bathhouse?’
‘Well, certainly the gentlemen use it, but they will not be here today,’ replied Adele. ‘Come.’ She squeezed Carlotta’s arm. ‘I am sure you would like to look inside.’
‘Indeed I should,’ agreed Carlotta. It was one of the last buildings to be decorated by her father, and she was eager to see it, eager for some link with her parents. With a jolt she realised how much she was missing them.
Adele led the way up the shallow steps to the double doors situated beyond the pillars.
‘Perhaps it is locked,’ said Julia, not unhopefully.
Adele reached into her reticule and pulled out a large key. ‘I came prepared!’
The doors opened smoothly and they stepped inside. They found themselves in a square, vaulted room with windows set up high in the walls. There was a rectangular plunge bath in the centre of the floor with a flight of shallow stone steps leading down into it. Adele stooped to put her hand into the water, sending little waves rippling across the surface.
‘I am told it is deep enough for swimming. It is very cold, of course, but the gentlemen do not seem to mind that.’ She giggled. ‘The high windows mean that they cannot be spied upon.’
‘I—I am sure we should not be here,’ stuttered Julia, staring wide-eyed at the walls.
Carlotta looked around her; a series of murals depicted classical scenes, men and women bathing in a river. She had been brought up in an artist’s studio and was quite at home with the near-naked figures, but Julia was clearly shocked. Adele merely laughed.
‘Of course, we should not be here, but you are not children; I do not believe you will be irrevocably harmed by what you see. Besides, we need not tell anyone.’
Julia gave a nervous giggle. ‘No, I suppose not.’
‘Come along, then; let us go into the warm room.’
They moved on past the plunge pool and through the doors beyond. Carlotta was surprised to find herself now in a very different space. There was a large fireplace set into one wall and a number of padded couches placed around the room. The windows here were also high and the walls beneath them were covered with scenes of what Carlotta suspected might be an orgy. She smiled to herself; Papa was very liberal, but he would never have allowed her in here while he was working!
‘The gentlemen come in here to relax,’ explained Adele. ‘There is a little room at the side where water can be heated for the hip baths. Then, when the gentlemen have finished their day’s s
hooting, they can bathe and refresh themselves in the plunge pool before taking an informal dinner here, before the fire.’
‘It sounds very…decadent,’ observed Carlotta, her lip quivering.
‘Yes, but amusing,’ replied Adele.
The three ladies looked at one another and giggled.
‘P-perhaps we should hold a dinner of our own here one day,’ suggested Adele.
Julia put her hand to her flaming cheeks. ‘Oh, no, I could not…!’
Carlotta took her arm. ‘You need not be anxious, Julia. I do not think it would be allowed.’
‘Certainly not for unmarried ladies,’ agreed Adele, twinkling.
Carlotta returned from the walk with her spirits much improved and looking forward to her dinner. At the back of her mind there were nagging doubts about her engagement to Mr Woollatt, but he was not expected to return for a few more days and in her present buoyant mood she found herself reluctant to think too much about the future.
As the ladies hurried up the stairs to change they found James waiting for them on the landing.
‘Ah, there you are. Did you enjoy your walk?’
‘Very much, my love,’ replied Adele. ‘And we are now ready for our dinner!’
James grinned. ‘Then you had best go and change, but perhaps Miss Rivington would spare me a moment? I have a message for her.’
Carlotta looked at him in surprise, but Adele patted her arm.
‘From Daniel Woollatt, I don’t doubt. Very well, James, but do not keep her too long!’
‘Is that it?’ asked Carlotta, ‘Do you have a message for me from Mr Woollatt?’
James beckoned to Carlotta to follow him to one of the deep window embrasures that overlooked the south lawn. He waited until the other ladies were out of sight, then he pulled a note from his pocket and handed it to Carlotta.
The Wicked Baron Page 18