“I won’t,” said Cecilia. “I feel so lovely in this dress; do you think Mr. Troughton will like it?”
“I am sure he will,” answered Caroline. “Do you mean to wear it this afternoon?” She strove to control her voice as Lord Gresham’s hand drifted ever higher, sliding up her inner thigh, his fingers trailing seductively over her tender skin.
“Oh, yes,” said Cecilia. “I think that I will be quite the best dressed young woman there if I do so.”
Lord Gresham’s hand had reached the top of her thigh, and now ventured slowly across the curls that nestled between her legs. She felt herself grow damp, and it was all she could do stay on her feet and concentrate on Cecilia.
“I’m sure you will be,” she said, her own voice seeming to her to be very far away.
Cecilia ran to the mirror over the mantelpiece and glanced into it, admiring the way her shoulders emerged from the lace. “White does go well with my hair,” she observed. “How kind you are, Cousin, to think of me.”
Lord Gresham’s hand gently urged Caroline’s thighs apart, and he languidly drew his fingers across her drenched cleft. Very slowly he inserted one finger, moving it persuasively.
“And the blue sash is perfect! So becoming! How do you think I should wear my hair?” asked Cecilia.
A second finger was added to the first, stroking a bit faster, and Lord Gresham raised his other hand to support Caroline’s bottom. In a dim way she was grateful, for she had thought she must surely collapse.
“It’s lovely now,” she said, alarmed to hear her voice rise with every word. She fought for control of herself. “Why don’t you speak to Beckham? I’m sure she would be glad to help you dress it.”
Cecilia turned and looked at her. “Are you well, Cousin? You are very flushed.” She took a step towards the settee.
“I’m fine!” exclaimed Caroline. “It is just a bit warm in here. Run along, dear, and find Beckham.” Despite her best efforts she could feel a tell-tale flutter beginning in her abdomen, and Lord Gresham seized the moment to slowly but determinedly slide a third finger into her.
Cecilia gave her a curious glance, but moved towards the door. “If you are sure you don’t need me to—”
“No, all is well. Hurry along.” Caroline’s voice faded a bit with the last words, and she was unutterably relieved when Cecilia left the room, closing the door behind her. With a shudder she gave in to her climax, her legs giving out completely. Lord Gresham caught her with his free arm as she sank to the floor, lowering her gently, his other hand still buried in her, her petticoats frothing about his brocaded sleeve.
“Wonderful,” he said, watching her. “You are magnificent. I truly admire your control, darling. I know how easily you are excited.”
Caroline opened her eyes as the last tremors faded away and glared at him. “You are the very devil,” she said.
“That will teach you to make me hide, and to deny that you know me,” said Gresham. “Consider it a lesson in manners.” He slid his hand out slowly and leaned over her, one arm on each side of her shoulders, his knee nudging her skirt higher. “And now, my dear, shall we finish? I don’t think you are done, and I know that I am not.”
“The door,” said Caroline anxiously. “Lock the door.”
“I didn’t think you were so weak-spirited, darling.” He leaned down and kissed her soundly. “But I suppose I will humor you, since you’ve been so patient up ‘til now.” He rose and walked to the door, turned the lock with a satisfying click, and returned. He looked down at her, his eyes smiling.
“Shall we remain here on the floor?” he asked. “You have such lovely carpets. “ He lowered himself over her again and shoved her skirts up to her waist with one quick movement. He caught her eyes with his. “You will have to be quiet,” he said softly. “Or everyone will know.”
Caroline’s eyes widened at the thought. Tristan smiled. “You hadn’t thought of that, had you? Do you want me to stop?”
Caroline shook her head restlessly, and Tristan nodded. “I didn’t think so,” he said. He lowered his head and very deliberately licked a path up her cleft, sinking his tongue deeply into her, and she gave a tiny cry, hastily stifled. He laughed with his mouth against her, and returned to his ministrations, licking and kissing his way across her tender and already over stimulated flesh, teasing her clitoris until she shuddered and made tiny noises, struggling to keep them in check. When he felt her hovering on the brink of another climax, he hastily raised himself and opened his breeches, freeing his erection. With one quick movement he plunged into her to the very hilt. Her cry, that this time she could not control, was swallowed as he lowered his mouth to hers, in a deep, dark kiss that she felt plundered her very soul. She went over the edge and he came with her, both of them feeling the same violent release as he drove deeper and deeper into her, until he collapsed on top of her.
After a few moments, Caroline stirred, and Tristan raised his head, his gaze meeting hers. He smiled impudently.
“That was certainly one of the more entertaining morning calls I’ve ever paid,” he said.
Caroline appeared dazed. “You, my lord, are—” She paused, apparently beyond words.
“Yes, I know, the very devil, you just told me. But don’t say you didn’t enjoy that, for I shan’t believe you,” he said. He rolled off her gracefully and stood, adjusting his clothing. He then knelt down next to her, helping her to a sitting position with great tenderness. “Can you stand?”
“Of course I can stand,” she said indignantly. “Do you think me such a ninny that something like this totally oversets me?”
“As I was not aware that this was a common ending to a morning call, I thought you might be a trifle unnerved,” said Tristan.
“Of course this is not a common occurrence,” said Caroline peevishly.
She took his proffered hand with ill grace, and he raised her to her feet. With great care, he smoothed her skirt down over her petticoats.
“I must admit I’m glad,” he said softly.
She tried to glare at him, but failed. “I would not mind if it happened more often, provided the caller is you,” she said.
“Ah, honesty. So lovely.” Tristan leaned forward and kissed her lightly. When she responded eagerly, he gently moved her away. “None of that, or we shall have a repeat performance.”
Caroline appeared disappointed, but obeyed. He held her at arm’s length. “Let me make sure you look proper,” he said, and walked around her, gently tweaking her hair, and smoothing her clothes. “Someday I would like to not have to worry about your appearance after one of our encounters,” he observed. “Not that it isn’t amusing in its own way, of course.” He paused surveyed her. “Perfect,” he said.
“Thank you,” said Caroline.
“By the by, my dear, who was the gentleman who engaged your attention last night?” asked Lord Gresham lazily.
“Sir Geoffrey Arkwright. He was an acquaintance of my husband’s.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “Surely you do not mean to tell me you are jealous.”
“Not at all. I am sure of my prowess. But he did appear to have an interest in you, and that is something of which I am very aware.”
“It was nothing,” said Caroline. “He is not often in London, and I doubt I shall see him again.” She gazed up at Tristan, feeling a bit out of temper at his smooth assurance. “Not that I intend to suit my actions to your desires.”
Lord Gresham smiled. “Oh, you very often suit your actions to my desires, Caro.” He watched as she flushed. “And I did not forbid you to speak to Sir Geoffrey. I merely wished to know with whom I may have to contend. You see, I refuse to believe that all men do not want you as much as I do.”
Caroline shook her head and began to reply, but the door handle turned, and they both jumped. There was a pause, and then it rattled again. “Caroline!”
It was Cecilia’s voice. Caroline’s eyes grew wide and she stared at Gresham. He gazed back blandly.
“You
should probably unlock the door,” he said, turning away and pulling his snuff box languidly from his pocket.
“Caroline! Why is the door locked? Are you unwell? Should I summon Bunton?”
Caroline thought of asking Gresham to hide again, and then, given his recent actions, thought better of it. She walked quickly to the door and unlocked it, opening the door. Cecilia popped into the room immediately.
“Cousin, only see how lovely my hair is! Beckham is a gem!” Cecilia spun in a circle to fully display her hair, and stopped abruptly when she saw Lord Gresham standing in the middle of the room.
“Lord Gresham!” She looked from Caroline to his lordship, and then back again. “How came you here?”
He paused in the act of taking a pinch of snuff, and gazed at her from under his lazy eyelids. “The usual way. My carriage is outside.”
“Oh, I did not mean to be impolite,” said Cecilia, cowed by his demeanor. “It is just that you were not here a short while ago, and the door was—locked…” Her voice faded away.
“Lord Gresham merely came by to speak to me about some—some business,” said Caroline. “And the latch on the door must be faulty. I will have Bunton bring someone in to look at it.”
“Yes, you should have it fixed,” agreed Lord Gresham. “Neither you nor I locked the door, did we Lady Eskmaine?”
“Not at all,” said Caroline firmly. “What a nuisance.”
Cecilia looked from one to the other, her eyes wide, some unbidden thoughts clearly forming behind them. “But—” she began.
“Your hair is lovely,” interrupted Caroline. “Beckham knows just what to do. The coiffure is sophisticated, but still suitable for a girl of your years. And the blue riband matches your sash delightfully. You will be the despair of all the gentlemen this afternoon.”
“Do you think so?” asked Cecilia, diverted.
“Undoubtedly,” said Lord Gresham, raising his quizzing glass and gazing at her through it. “Were it not for my advanced years, I would be quite in despair myself.”
“Thank you!” Cecilia glowed. “Will you be accompanying us today, Lord Gresham? Doubtless Lady Eskmaine would enjoy your company.”
“He will not,” said Caroline briskly before his lordship could answer. “Lord Gresham has far better things to do than dance attendance on the two of us.”
“I see that I am, alas, unwanted,” said Lord Gresham. “I fear I must take my leave. He bowed politely to Cecilia and more extravagantly to Caroline, who took his arm and walked him towards the door.
“You will send me a note about our business?” he asked politely.
“Indeed I will. Thank you so much, Lord Gresham, for calling on me,” Caroline held out her hand, and he dropped a graceful kiss on it.
“Anytime you call, my lady, I will be glad to be of service,” he responded. He caught her eye, a twinkle in his, but she resolutely did not respond.
The door opened and Bunton appeared. “Sir Geoffrey Arkwright,” he announced.
“Lud,” said Caroline under her breath. Lord Gresham shot her a look.
“Your deceased husband’s acquaintance wishes to be better friends with you,” he murmured.
Sir Geoffrey entered the room, and bowed to Caroline, who promptly introduced him to Cecilia and then turned to Lord Gresham.
Sir Geoffrey Arkwright, Lord Gresham,” she said.
“Delighted,” said Lord Gresham, bowing slightly. “I regret that I was on my way out. Lady Eskmaine, Miss Ashdown, your servant!”
He gave Caroline one last quizzing look and then left the field to Sir Geoffrey.
Chapter 16
The next morning, Caroline rose early and went to the nursery, where Jonathan was finishing his breakfast. The nursery maid bobbed a curtsey to her ladyship, as her son greeted her with an enthusiastic hug and kiss.
“Have you come to help with my lessons, Mama?” he asked.
“That sounds very dull,” said Caroline. “Miss Wilton has not yet begun; would you care to come to the park with me for an hour or so?”
“That would be just the thing,” said Jonathan. “May I bring my ball?”
“Certainly,” Caroline said. She nodded at the nursemaid, who prepared Jonathan for the excursion, and the three of them set out for Green Park. Jonathan bobbed up and down merrily, holding his mother’s hand and confiding in her a long story about the groom who had put him on the back of a horse the day before, and allowed him to pretend he was riding. Caroline listened, smiling and nodding occasionally, and enjoying the slanting rays of the early morning sun. She reflected briefly on how quickly Jonathan was growing, and realized, a bit sadly, that he would grow to adulthood without remembering his father.
When they reached the park Caroline threw off her melancholy, and the two spent some minutes tossing the ball back and forth, Jonathan calling out instructions in a manner that made Caroline stifle a laugh. The whole scene was so simple, not at all like navigating a ballroom and attempting to keep Cecilia in line. Truly, she thought, she would welcome the end of the Season and her return to Eskmaine, where she might have some time to herself. Except, of course, that Lord Gresham would not be at Eskmaine. He would go to his own estates, perhaps, or visit his friends.
She wondered idly if he would visit her at Eskmaine; the thought of being with him in the countryside, riding horses and strolling around across the meadows, and then spending quiet evenings together, was very appealing. But, she realized, he was unlikely to find those sorts of amusements interesting. The gaming halls of Paris or the amusements of Weymouth or Brighton were far more in his style. Caroline knew that while she would greatly miss his company, it was likely that his desire for her would not last many weeks longer.
“Who is that, Mama?”
Caroline shook off her thoughts, and looked up to see a gentleman approaching. The nursery maid stepped forward and took Jonathan’s hand as he grew nearer, apparently intent on crossing their path. The sun in her eyes made it difficult for her to discern who it was, but after a moment or two her heart began to beat faster. Surely she recognized that graceful stride. What was Lord Gresham doing in Green Park so early in the morning?
Tristan drew near enough for her to see his face, and she reflected that she had seldom seen him appear so relaxed, outside of the bedroom of the house on Mount Street.
“It’s all right, Betsy, I am acquainted with the gentleman,” said Caroline. She stepped forward and extended her hand. “Lord Gresham, how surprising to see you here in Green Park. And so early in the morning.”
He took her hand and bowed over it gracefully. The nursemaid gazed at him avidly. There had been whispers below stairs that perhaps her ladyship had a more than casual acquaintance with Lord Gresham, but this was the first time Betsy had been privileged to see him. It seemed to her that Lady Eskmaine had done quite well for herself.
“You had mentioned that you sometimes came here,” said Tristan. “I thought this morning that perhaps I should do more than lie abed.”
“It is a lovely day,” said Caroline brightly. She felt a tug at her skirt, and looked down into Jonathan’s curious eyes. “Lord Gresham, this is my son, Lord Eskmaine,” she said, feeling a bit awkward.
Tristan surprised her by bowing politely to Jonathan, and then went down on one knee next to him, so that their eyes were level. “I’m pleased to meet you, Lord Eskmaine,” he said.
Jonathan laughed. “No one calls me that. You must call me Jonathan.”
“I thank you,” said Tristan gravely. “Then you must call me Tristan.”
“Do you know my mother well?” asked Jonathan blithely.
“I do indeed,” responded Tristan. “I feel lucky that she has been so kind as to befriend me.”
“I have heard Mama say that most of the people she knows are idiots, so, if you are her friend, you must not be an idiot,” observed Jonathan.
Tristan glanced up a Caroline, laughter in his eyes, and turned back to Jonathan. “I think the fact that I like your
mother proves I am not an idiot,” he ventured.
“She is very clever,” volunteered Jonathan. “She helps me with my figures.”
“Does she?” asked Tristan. “Perhaps she will help me with mine as well.”
“She says that they are important if one is to take care of one’s estates properly,” said Jonathan.
“As always, your mother is correct,” replied Tristan. “As you said, she is a very clever woman.”
Jonathan nodded enthusiastically. “Are you very fond of her?”
“Hush, Jonathan, you must not ask such things,” said Caroline.
“Not at all,” said Gresham. “I am indeed very fond of your mother.”
Caroline decided that the conversation between her son and her lover had proceeded far enough. She turned to the nursemaid with what she hoped was a composed countenance.
“Betsy, take Jonathan down to the pond. I am sure he would like to see the ducks,” she said.
“Aye, my lady,” said the nursemaid, leading Jonathan away a bit reluctantly.
“I enjoyed meeting you, Tristan,” said Jonathan.
“And I you,” replied his lordship. He watched as the boy turned and ran toward the lake, Betsy lifting her skirts and hastening to keep up with him.
“He is a handsome boy; he looks much like his father,” said Tristan. “But he has your eyes.”
Caroline shrugged. “It’s not a bad thing when a babe resembles his father,” she observed.
There was a moment of companionable silence between them. Finally she turned to face him.
“What are you doing here, and so early?” she asked. She couldn’t imagine a reason for his presence.
“I awoke early, and you had said you sometimes came here. It seemed a good idea, though now I fear I may have annoyed you.” He shook his head. “I missed you, I suppose.”
Sense & Sensuality: Caroline's After Dark Georgian Romance (The Gravesmeres Book 3) Page 16