“Lady Eskmaine?”
Caroline turned toward Sir Geoffrey. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was not attending. Did you say something?”
“I asked you when your brother might be returning to town,” said Sir Geoffrey, a bit stiffly.
“Adam? Oh, I have no idea. He meant to be gone only a week, but matters at Gravesmere appear to be more urgent than he had thought. The duchess has joined him recently, so it may be some time, as the principal thing that keeps him in town all through the Season is his wife’s desire to enjoy society.”
“Ah. Then perhaps, if you will forgive me, I will speak my piece now. While I would prefer to speak formally to His Grace first, you are not a young woman, and I believe it would not be wrong of me to address you directly.”
Caroline turned to him, her eyes very wide. “I beg your pardon?”
“Surely you cannot have mistaken my partiality for your company for mere friendship,” said Sir Geoffrey. “Despite your occasional lapses into levity, I find you to be an estimable woman, fully worthy of sharing in my estate.”
“Oh, dear,” said Caroline. “Sir Geoffrey, please forgive me, but I had no idea that you might have misunderstood my feelings toward you. Pray, do not continue.”
“I appreciate your modesty, and once again regret that I have not been able to approach your brother. Surely you can forgive me for the strength of my feelings,” persisted Sir Geoffrey, taking her hand in his.
Caroline resisted the urge to snatch her hand away, and instead disengaged it as gently as possible.
“Sir Geoffrey, I must beg that you cease importuning me,” she said, looking around in the hope that someone might be approaching. “While I am very flattered, I cannot accept your very obliging offer.”
Sir Geoffrey drew himself up. “What can you mean, Lady Eskmaine? I would not have spoken to you unless I was certain that you would look kindly upon my suit. We have been much in each other’s company these past weeks, and you have given me no reason to imagine that you would not look with favor upon my proposal.”
Caroline stared at him blankly. In the tumult of the past weeks, she had not realized how very often she had been in Sir Geoffrey’s company, nor had she paid much attention to his constant presence wherever she went.
“Sir Geoffrey, I am very sorry indeed if you misunderstood me. While I enjoy your friendship, I do not seek a closer relationship with you,” she said, a bit desperately.
“Why do you think I approached you? After all, you are a widow, and a widow is in need of a spouse. It would not do for you to continue alone in the world. I have an ancient name, and a respectable estate. I can shield you from the harshness of the world, and provide your son with the guidance he will need as he grows.”
Caroline, realizing that Sir Geoffrey was not about to take no for an answer, looked around once more in desperation, and was relieved to see a figure approaching. The relief turned to horror, however, when the man strolling towards them was revealed to be Lord Gresham. The smile on his face as he took in Caroline’s flushed face, her evident discomfort, and Sir Geoffrey’s rigid spine, made it clear that he had a very fair idea as to what had passed between them.
“Ah, Lady Eskmaine,” he drawled. “Forgive me for interrupting. Miss Ashdown has need of you, and sent me to find you.”
“Oh…oh, did she?” asked Caroline, giving a sigh of relief.
“Indeed.” Lord Gresham’s eyes lit with a spark of laughter as they met hers. He turned to Sir Geoffrey. “You must forgive my intrusion, Sir Geoffrey, but Miss Ashdown seemed to feel the issue was urgent. Lady Eskmaine, if you will allow me to escort you, I would be honored.”
He offered his arm to Caroline, who took it gingerly, not sure if she was going from the frying pan into the fire. With a murmured apology to Sir Geoffrey, she allowed Tristan to escort her away.
Chapter 20
Caroline and Gresham walked some moments in silence, before she finally looked up, quietly surveying his profile. He looked straight ahead, his mouth a firm line, and she could discern no particular emotion in his eyes.
“I have to thank you for that,” she said softly. “I was very uncomfortable.”
“So it appeared,” he said. “I suppose I should be reassured now that I know that it is not only my marriage proposals that you find unfortunate.”
Caroline was silent for a moment. “That was unkind,” she finally said.
He looked down at her, and she thought she saw anger at the back of his eyes. “Was it?” he asked. “I felt it was remarkably restrained, given the circumstances.”
She gasped. “Surely you cannot imagine that I encouraged Sir Geoffrey,” she protested. “I had no idea that he meant to offer for me.”
“Then you are the only person in London who was unaware of it,” said Tristan. “Society has talked of it for some time now. For a woman who is held up as a paragon of common sense, you seem to have shown very little of it of late.”
“I can’t imagine why I should think he would propose,” said Caroline crossly. “He has been underfoot a great deal lately, but I’ve been much occupied with Cecilia and—”
“And what?” asked Tristan.
“And…other things,” said Caroline lamely.
He shot her a quick glance. “I suppose I won’t press you,” he replied.
They walked a few more moments in silence. “Where is Cecilia?” asked Caroline.
“I have no idea,” said Tristan. “I left her with Lord Barford, and they seemed quite content to wander through the shrubbery and drink lemonade.”
“She didn’t ask for me?” said Caroline.
“No, I came to find you for my own reasons. However, it seemed to me that Sir Geoffrey would be more likely to release you from your predicament than if I told him my true motives.” Again his eyes met hers, and this time she perceived a softening in his gaze.
“Oh.” Caroline lapsed into silence. “Why did you want to speak to me?”
Taking her arm, Tristan led her through the garden to a small temple, cunningly built to appear to be a ruin. The dome still stood on its columns, but small heaps of masonry were scattered about, flowers and vines growing among them. He stood gazing at it, and Caroline turned to it as well.
“What a charming folly,” she murmured.
“This is the Temple of Modern Virtues,” Tristan informed her.
“I see that you do know the gardens well,” said Caroline with a hint of asperity.
“I’ve been acquainted with Sylvia for some years,” he responded.
“And shared some modern virtues with her, no doubt,” snapped Caroline.
“Would that bother you?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Not at all. I never had any illusions that your past was anything but extremely chequered, or that I would hold your attention for long. You are very—modern.”
Tristan indicated a bench under the shade of a tree. “Please, Caro, sit with me,” he said wearily.
Caroline looked at him curiously, but subsided onto the bench. He sat down next to her.
“What do you want from me?” she asked.
He laughed at that, and she flushed. “Caro, why did you say me nay? You yourself have said you might marry again, and Sir Geoffrey, while a paragon of the virtues I lack, is clearly not to your liking.”
“I—I told you why,” she answered, her voice trembling a bit. “You are not the sort of man who should marry, and I will not be the woman who turns a blind eye to her husband’s indiscretions. That is not the sort of marriage I seek.”
“It is not the sort of marriage I offered you,” said Tristan. “Why will you not believe me?”
Caroline gave him an angry look. “Why will I not believe that? Why, perhaps it is because in the short time since you asked me to marry you, you have shamelessly flirted with Lady Lansdowne.”
“Ah, that rankles, does it?” He looked down at her, smiling mischievously.
“So, you meant to make me jealous?” d
emanded Caroline.
“I thought it would be interesting to see if I could,” he countered.
“You are the devil,” said Caroline, starting to rise, but he put his arm around her waist and drew her down again.
“So, you are jealous,” he said.
Caroline bit her lip. “I suppose I may be.”
“And am I not supposed to be jealous of Sir Geoffrey?”
She gazed at him, stunned. “You? Jealous of Sir Geoffrey?”
“Is it inconceivable?”
“Yes,” she said frankly, “for he is the dullest creature imaginable, and surely I have done nothing to make you think that I wish to be bored for the rest of my life.”
He chuckled. “I’ll be honest and say I thought you had more sense than to marry him. But I hate seeing him near you, dancing with you, touching you.”
“You do?”
“Caro, darling,” he said, and raised his hand to her cheek, cupping it briefly, and then slipping it down to caress her neck, his thumb raising her chin until their eyes met.
Caroline stayed very still but did not protest as he lowered his lips to hers, and when he kissed her, very gently, she made a tiny noise, half laugh, half sob. Giving herself up to the moment, she threw her arms around his neck and drew him towards her, returning the kiss with a sudden ferocity. The dark images of Tristan with Lady Lansdowne that she had conjured up faded as she held him close, her hands sunk into his dark hair.
“Gently, darling,” said Tristan. “We must not crush your skirts.”
Caroline glared at him. “I don’t care about my skirts,” she said baldly. “It’s been well over a week since -”
“Ah.” Tristan ran one finger lightly across her collarbone, and she shivered. “I don’t think this is the appropriate setting, despite the romance of the architecture.”
“I don’t care if it’s the right setting, either,” said Caroline. “Please, Tristan.”
He looked down into her stormy, passion-filled eyes for a moment, and seemed to make a decision. “Very well, my dear.”
He stood and held out his hand to her, and she slipped hers into it. He raised her to her feet and led her towards the temple, where a charmingly tumbled wall tapered away in a patch of sunlight and tiny flowers dotted the grass. Caroline looked at him impatiently.
“’Twas remarkable foresight on my part to wear a green coat today,” he said, with a hint of a smile, eying her yellow silk dress doubtfully. “You clearly did not dress for this eventuality.” Taking her in his arms, he crushed her body to his, kissing her not gently this time, but ruthlessly, and with enough force to leave her gasping for breath.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Caroline, pushing at his coat with anxious fingers.
“Darling, we have to return to the party at some point, and I don’t care for everyone to guess what we’ve been up to. We will have to do this another way.” He knelt and touched the grass briefly to see if it was damp, then turned and seated himself with his back against the wall. He held his arms up to her.
“Come along, sweetest,” he said, and Caroline tumbled into his lap, her knees straddling his hips, as he grabbed her skirts and pushed them up, so they billowed about the pair in a golden cloud.
“Be careful, or there will be stains,” he said reprovingly, but Caroline leaned forward to kiss him, thrilled to feel that he was already aroused. Tristan’s hands slid under skirts, and drifted gently across her thighs, then to her cleft, which he stroked gently.
“I think you’ve missed me,” he said.
“I have,” said Caroline. “Very much.”
“I can tell.” He slowly pressed two fingers into her, and she gave a gasp of relief.
“Oh, I have indeed missed you,” she murmured. She shoved her skirts aside, almost laughing as the yards of silk prevented her from finding her goal. Eventually she found the placket of his breeches, and she determinedly unbuttoned it, breathing hard as his fingers moved inside her.
“Take your time, Caro,” he said. “The wall protects us from sight, and there’s no great hurry.”
She shook her head. “I’m not worried, but I am in a hurry,” she answered, and smiled in delight as his erection sprang free from his breeches. She wrapped her hand around it and stroked gently at first, then more firmly, and she felt him grow harder and longer.
“You do that very well,” said Tristan.
“I learned from you,” said Caroline, her fingers just brushing the tip of his penis. She leaned towards him for a slow, satisfying kiss.
“That’s it,” said Tristan, and he swiftly moved his hands from her skirts to grasp her waist, lifting her slightly, so that her moist and swollen folds just touched the end of his thick cock. He held her there for a moment, his eyes locking with hers, and then slowly lowered her onto his length. As he stretched and filled her Caroline gasped with delight, wriggling slightly in an attempt to make him move more quickly. When she was finally fully impaled, sitting on his lap, trembling with desire, he moved his hands from her waist slowly up the bodice of her dress, pushing aside her gauzy fichu, and lifting her straining breasts above the low neckline of her gown. He bent his dark head, to lick and suckle at them and Caroline felt a bolt of desire shoot through her to amplify the sensation of pleasure that his fullness was creating in her. She gasped, suddenly feeling her excitement spike.
Caroline wriggled in his lap, reveling in the sensation of being completely filled, fluttering on the brink of orgasm. Tristan smiled gently at her and took her hands in his.
“Just think, darling,” he said. “If someone came along they would only see you sitting in my lap—which is scandalous enough—but they would have no idea what we are doing.”
“I wish we didn’t have all these clothes on though,” Caroline replied.
“We are constrained by our circumstances,” agreed Tristan. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t be interesting.” He raised her slowly up his full length, and then settled her again. She moaned. “Now, you will have to do some work, poppet.”
Caroline licked her lips, then placed her hands on his shoulders. Resting her knees on the grass, she raised herself up and down, creating an entrancing rhythm. She gasped for breath when he finally grasped her hips, holding her down on his hardness, and, bracing his feet, thrust up into her. She gave a small cry and succumbed, her climax shaking her as he allowed his own release into her trembling body.
“I’ve missed that,” said Caroline faintly. Her head was buried in Tristan’s shoulder, and she breathed in his scent deeply.
“As I have I,” said Tristan. He gently stroked her cheek and some moments passed in contented silence. “Come, darling,” he said eventually. “We have to get back, unless you wish to be truly compromised. This is a very public spot, and we will soon be missed.”
Caroline stood up reluctantly, and Tristan followed her, buttoning his breeches. He smiled at her lazily and reached out, twitching her skirts back into place, then helping her to rearrange her bodice and fichu. “Only one or two stains,” he said softly, rubbing the silk between his fingers. “We were quite skillful.”
She looked down at the small green marks on the hem of her skirt. “I don’t regret them,” she said. She walked behind him, and brushed some dirt and moss from the back of his coat. “Green was an excellent idea,” she murmured.
“Caro, we need to discuss this—sometime when you aren’t looking so irresistible, and when the memory of your touch isn’t so recent,” he said. “Surely that showed you that you need me.”
She turned away from him and stared at the ruined temple. “Yes, I need you,” she said. “But you will not always need me. I cannot live with the knowledge that someday you would leave me.”
“But I want to marry you,” he replied. “How would I then leave you?”
“That would be worse,” she said firmly. “To be your wife and to know that you were with others, and that I had no redress.”
“Caro, I
want only you. How can I convince you?” Tristan put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. She looked up, blinking away a few tears.
“You can’t,” she said simply.
“Damn it.” Tristan took her face between his hands and kissed her gently and persuasively.
Caroline kissed him back, because she wanted to and because she didn’t know if it would be the last time. As she did so, wondering if she could possibly coax him back into the temple, she heard a gasp.
Tristan looked up. “Blast,” he said, mildly. He glanced down at Caroline, still cradling her face in his hands. “You probably don’t want to turn around.”
Slowly Caroline turned to see Cecilia staring at them, her eyes wide and her hand pressed to her mouth. “Caroline,” she quavered. “What are you doing?”
Caroline stepped away from Tristan quickly, although she knew the damage was done. “Cecilia, why are you here?” she asked.
“I was looking for you,” said Cecilia. “Lady Lansdowne asked me to fetch you. When Sir Geoffrey returned without you and made his departure, she thought you might need my company. And now I find you…you and Lord Gresham…”
“Lord Gresham and I were—well, it is truly none of your business what Gresham and I were doing,” said Caroline. “You have found me, and I will return with you.”
Cecilia stamped her foot. “This is not right of you, Cousin. You told me there was nothing between you and Lord Gresham! Indeed, you told me I might pursue him!”
“I did nothing of the kind! You said you might set your cap at him, and I told you that was a very ill-conceived notion,” said Caroline.
“And you!” Cecilia rounded on Lord Gresham. “You encouraged me!”
“Acquit me of cradle robbing, Miss Ashdown,” said Lord Gresham. “My attentions were more in the order of preventing you from making disastrous mistakes. Your taste in gentlemen is sometimes faulty, as was noted at Ranelagh.”
Sense & Sensuality: Caroline's After Dark Georgian Romance (The Gravesmeres Book 3) Page 21