by Tracy Grant
Caroline was conscious of a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach and knew it was not because of the rich food and plentiful wine. "Emily's very well," she managed to say. "She seems to thrive wherever we live."
"Children often do." Anandale gave a strained smile. "I'd like to see her. So would my wife. I failed Jared. I hope I can do better by his daughter."
Caroline's fingers clenched, digging through the fabric of her gloves. Anandale was offering financial support to her and Emily. She could not be angry at this broken shell of a man who was still so angry at himself. Seeing Emily would comfort both Anandale and his wife. And Caroline would not have to worry about how they were to live on a lieutenant's pension. Anandale's offer solved all her problems. Save that Emily was not his granddaughter. The lie that had already caused so much discord between her and Adam hung heavy in her throat.
"I understand your anger, my dear," Anandale said, misinterpreting her silence. "But surely the girl has a right to know her father's family."
"It's not that, Lord Anandale." Impulsively, Caroline put a hand on his arm. "I'd never try to keep Emily from her family. And I'd be proud to have you and Lady Anandale as my child's grandparents."
For the first time all evening, Anandale's expression lightened. "In that case I'll call and take you both on an outing as soon as possible," he said.
Before Caroline could respond, the footman came in with the tea tray. "We'll talk again later." Anandale pushed himself to his feet and offered his hand to Caroline. He looked happy. Surely there was no harm in a lie that protected Emily and eased the grief of Jared's family. Caroline thought of Anandale visiting Red Lion Square. And then she thought of Adam and how he would feel seeing another man making claim to the child he himself could not acknowledge as his own.
As they moved toward the ebony-inlaid table where Dolly was pouring tea, Caroline saw Talbot watching her again. She sensed that he was not pleased to see her talking to his uncle. There was something calculating about Talbot's gaze, as if he was preparing to take action. Caroline shivered and reminded herself that there was nothing Talbot could do to her beneath his father's roof. Talbot turned back to Lydia Kingston. Dolly gave Caroline a cup of tea, Sherry reclaimed her attention, and Anandale, still smiling, went off to talk to his brother. When the tea had been consumed, card tables were set up. Caroline found herself playing whist with Sherry, Lady Cowper, and Lord Palmerston. Sherry, as always, treated her in a lightly flirtatious manner, though it was nothing compared to the banter between Lady Cowper and Lord Palmerston.
It was close to midnight when the party broke up, but Dolly insisted that Caroline stay on for a bit with the rest of the family. Sherry pressed Caroline's hand and promised to call on her the next day. Lady Cowper said she was delighted Mrs. Rawley was back in England. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Rawley," Palmerston said. "I believe we may be in agreement about many things."
Caroline met his gaze and knew he was referring to the charges against Adam. She smiled at him in gratitude. Palmerston smiled as well, then gave his arm to Lady Cowper, who had offered him a ride in her carriage. Caroline wasn't surprised. After spending over an hour playing cards with them she was convinced they were more than friends.
"He's quite devoted to her," Dolly whispered to Caroline as they stood in the gallery watching the last of the guests depart. Dolly glanced about, but the men had already returned to the salon. In an even softer voice she added, "I'm quite certain Palmerston is the father of Emily's two youngest children."
Caroline was startled, though she knew such births were not uncommon among fashionable women like Lady Cowper. She wondered how Palmerston felt about having children with the woman he loved and not being able to claim them as his own. And then she wondered about Lady Cowper's husband. "Does Lord Cowper know?" she asked.
"Oh, he's always left Emily alone provided she does the same for him. I doubt Edward would be so complaisant if I wanted to stray. It's a good thing I don't have any desire to do so." Dolly drew Caroline back toward the salon. "I've rung for fresh tea. Or you can have brandy if you prefer. I daresay Talbot's rung for it as well."
They found the Rawley men gathered around the fireplace.
As Dolly had predicted, a tray with decanters had been brought in, but Caroline contented herself with another cup of tea.
"I'm quite worn out," Dolly said, flinging herself on the sofa. "There's something so exhausting about a game of whist."
"A very successful party, my dear." Edward, normally not a demonstrative man, bent down and kissed his wife on the forehead. He straightened up and smiled at Caroline. "Especially now that we have Caroline restored to us."
"Yes, I shan't be so horribly outnumbered by you men at family parties." Dolly looked at Caroline. "You are going to let Uncle Hugo see Emily, aren't you? It would be too unfair if you didn't."
"Dolly," Edward said in a sharp undertone.
"It's all right." Caroline sipped her tea for fortification. "Lord Anandale may call on us whenever he likes."
"Tomorrow if I may," Anandale said. "I've already missed almost four years of my granddaughter's life."
Granby smiled at Caroline. "There's been too much discord in this family as it is."
"How charming." Talbot spoke for the first time since Caroline had come back into the room. He was standing beside the fireplace, his arm resting on the mantel. "She's a delightful child, uncle." He took a long drink of brandy, then looked at Caroline, his eyes cold with triumph. "It's a pity she's a bastard."
Chapter Nineteen
Caroline could not move, could not think, could not even allow herself to feel. She heard Granby draw in his breath and Edward give a stifled exclamation. Anandale sat absolutely still.
Dolly took Caroline's teacup from her nerveless fingers and set it on the sofa table. "Don't be stupid, Talbot. That was a singularly tasteless joke."
Talbot took another sip of brandy, his eyes on Caroline. "It's no joke, Dolly."
Granby looked at his son. "Jared acknowledged the child." His voice was level, but his eyes were sharp.
"So he did," Talbot said, carefully setting his glass down on the mantel. "Publicly. But he told me otherwise."
"Dear God," Edward breathed.
"Caroline?" Anandale looked up at her. "You have only to deny these charges and I will throw my nephew from the house." His tone left no doubt that he would do just that. The house might belong to Talbot's father, but Anandale had grown up in it. Granby did not argue with his brother.
Caroline looked from Anandale, whose gaze was at once demanding and pleading, to Talbot. Lie, his eyes seemed to say. Lie, and see if you can get away with it. She turned back to Anandale. "I will deny nothing, my lord." She saw the shock in Anandale's eyes and the revulsion that followed. Then she turned to Dolly. "If you will forgive me, I must be getting home."
"Of course." Dolly went to the bell-pull to ring for Caroline's carriage, quite as if it were an ordinary social occasion. Granby and Edward got to their feet and murmured words of farewell. Edward was plainly embarrassed. Caroline could not tell what Granby was thinking.
When Caroline said she would wait for her carriage below, Dolly insisted on coming with her. "I could wring Talbot's neck," she said once they were out of the salon. "Caroline—"
"No." Caroline turned and managed to smile. "It's much better not to say anything at all."
Dolly grimaced. "Very well. But I shall call on you tomorrow, depend upon it."
The two women descended the stairs in silence. A footman brought Caroline's cloak and helped her into it. Caroline drew the folds close about her. The thin velvet seemed scant protection after what she had been through.
When the Wellstone carriage pulled up at the front door, Dolly embraced Caroline and promised again to call the next day. For the footman's benefit, Caroline thanked Dolly for the evening. Then she forced herself not to run as she descended the steps to the sanctuary of the carriage.
As the carriage pulled away from Granby H
ouse, Caroline collapsed against the squabs and closed her eyes. She felt unutterably cold, yet anger and despair burned within her. She had said there was nothing Talbot could do to her beneath his father's roof. How wrong she had been. With one simple sentence, Talbot had destroyed all her efforts to protect Emily.
Caroline remembered how tiny Emily had been when the doctor first placed her in her arms. Her life had been in a shambles but suddenly she had had a purpose. To protect and nurture this helpless child who needed her as no one ever had.
And now she had failed. Rage and grief welled up in her throat. She put a hand to her mouth to stifle a cry. It was too much. She could not endure it alone any longer.
John had waited up to let her into the Wellstone house. Caroline managed to murmur a few words to him, then hurried up two flights of stairs, thinking only to escape to her bedchamber. One of the doors in the second floor passage was ajar, but she thought nothing of it. Then as she reached her own door, she heard the soft creak of hinges.
"Caroline."
Adam stood in the doorway of his bedroom, a look of inquiry on his face. He would want to know how her meeting with Talbot had gone. As she drew a breath, trying to compose herself, the question in Adam's eyes gave way to concern. In three strides he crossed the corridor and put an arm round her shoulders.
Without speaking Adam led her back to his room and urged her into an upholstered armchair. "Sit down," he said in a quiet voice. "Breathe. Shall I get you some brandy?"
The thought of brandy brought a memory of Talbot. Caroline shuddered and shook her head. Adam drew up a smaller chair and sat in front of her. "What did he do to you?" he demanded, taking both her hands in his.
The feel of his hands about her own brought an unexpected and overpowering sense of comfort. Caroline took a deep breath. "He told them the truth about Emily."
Adam stared at her. Though he had known Talbot could not attack Caroline at Granby House, he had spent the whole evening worrying. He had waited up for her, wanting to know what Talbot had done and said, wanting even more to be assured that Caroline was all right. But never had it occurred to him that Talbot would attack Caroline by attacking her child. Their child. "How much of the truth?" Adam asked, keeping his voice level.
Caroline looked at him blankly. Then she seemed to understand. "Only that she's illegitimate. I don't think he knows who her father is. Jared didn't."
"It was Jared who told Talbot about Emily?"
Caroline nodded. "It must have been. I suppose it's understandable. Jared was never very good at keeping secrets." She hunched her shoulders, as if seeking warmth. "I don't know why he did it. Talbot, I mean."
"To drive a wedge between you and the rest of the family." Adam rubbed her hands. They felt like ice, even through the fabric of her gloves. "So there would be less chance they'd believe you if you made accusations against him."
"Yes, of course." Recognition showed in Caroline's eyes. "Lord Anandale was there, at the dinner. We reached some sort of accommodation. Talbot didn't seem happy about it. He must have been afraid I'd confide in Anandale and Anandale would be ready to believe any story which made Jared seem less guilty. I should have suspected Talbot would try something."
Adam tightened his grip on her hands. "You couldn't have known he knew about Emily. If you had known, you couldn't have stopped him."
"But I failed, don't you see?" Adam had never heard such despair in Caroline's voice. "I treated you abominably and my marriage was a disaster and I couldn't help Jared when he needed it. I thought at least I could be a good mother. That's what kept me going all those years in Lisbon, all that terrible winter in Acquera. Now I've failed Emily as well."
"That's foolishness, Caro." Adam took her by the shoulders. "Emily couldn't have a better mother. The fact that Talbot Rawley is despicable doesn't change that."
"But she needed to be protected from this most of all," Caroline insisted, her eyes bright with urgency. "Do you think I liked lying about Emily's birth? Lying to you, to Lord Anandale, to the rest of the world? I did it because I wanted her to have a name, to have some sort of respectability. It's difficult enough for a penniless woman to make her way in the world. I thought as a Rawley Emily would at least have a fighting chance. Dear God, Adam, you of all people should know what it means to be an outcast."
Adam flinched. But for the first time he glimpsed the fears Caroline had lived with since Emily's birth. He would have damned Talbot Rawley to hell for doing this to any child. But to Emily—
Caroline's shoulders shook. A desperate cry burst from her throat and her face contorted with the effort to hold her tears at bay. Adam moved to the arm of her chair and gathered her to him. She shuddered once more, as if still trying not to give in to grief. Then she collapsed against him.
Her body shook uncontrollably beneath his hands. Her tears coursed down his shirt and soaked through to his skin. At last the wracking sobs gave way to trembling and the trembling to slow, labored breaths. Adam pressed his lips against her hair.
Caroline raised her head and looked at him out of ravaged eyes. The dark folds of her cloak lay about her throat, exaggerating the pallor of her face. "She was my responsibility," she said.
"She's our responsibility," Adam countered, and waited, breath suspended, for Caroline to contradict him.
But she did not. Her eyes widened and a tremor ran through her. Something that was almost a smile crossed her face. "Yes," she said, taking his hands. "Ours."
Her hands clenched convulsively on his own, as if she was giving some of the burden into his hands. Adam could not imagine a sweeter gift.
They looked at each other for a long moment. There were shadows beneath Caroline's eyes and her carefully dressed hair fell in disarray about her face. Adam lifted his hands and pushed the tangled curls behind her ears. And then, because it seemed natural, he bent his head and kissed her.
It was meant to be a light kiss, a kiss of comfort and understanding. A kiss between parents, not lovers. But to his surprise, Caroline responded. Her lips, warm where the rest of her was so cold, parted beneath his own in mute invitation. She tasted of wine and grief and longing.
As always, the merest brush of her flesh against his own was enough to make his blood run hot and his loins harden with desire. Groaning, he sank his fingers into her hair and crushed her against him, losing himself in the intoxication that was hers alone. In three weeks he had scarcely touched her. Need sang through him, sharp and blinding.
Adam ended the kiss abruptly. If he did not there would be no turning back.
Caroline looked at him, her eyes smoky, her lips wet and swollen. The shadows were not gone from her face, but the tension had eased. Her mouth curved in a smile. "We have a bed tonight," she said. "And Emily is sound asleep down the corridor."
Adam's hands stilled on her shoulders. She had had another shock, as wrenching in its way as her experience in the river, and she was turning to him again for solace and escape. They had hurt each other so much in the past. Now they could offer each other comfort. If he could not give her anything else, at least he could give her this.
But he felt an undercurrent of bitterness. Caroline wanted an escape. He wanted Caroline.
Adam lifted Caroline's left hand, tugged off her smooth white glove, a symbol of the world which had pulled them apart, and tossed it to the floor. Her skin was already paler than it had been in Acquera. The light from the brace of candles beside the bed shone against the gold of the ring which bound her to Jared. Adam pulled the ring from her finger and threw it after the glove.
Caroline watched him, her gaze unwavering. Adam seized her hand and brought her palm to his lips.
She seemed to melt against him. Her hand, which had been so cold, now burned to the touch. He kissed the pulse beating at her wrist and felt the blood thunder in his own head. Her skin was so soft, softer than he remembered. It smelled of carefully distilled hyacinth and roses, as it had on the night Emily had been conceived.
The
scent stirred a need in Adam that went beyond longing or desire. He straightened up and looked into her eyes. Despite the disorder of her hair and the marks of grief and passion on her face, she was still the beautiful, remote woman who had left for Granby House five hours ago. Adam's chest tightened.
His eyes not leaving her face, he tugged off the second glove and tossed it to join the first. With great deliberation, he unclasped the velvet cloak and pushed it from her shoulders. Then he pulled the heavy silver comb free and sent her hair streaming down her back.
Caroline said nothing until he was done. He watched her, desperate for a sign that she understood. Suddenly she laughed and tossed back her head so that her hair cascaded over her shoulders like moonlight.
It was a gesture of liberation and it freed something within Adam that had remained hard and unyielding for so many years. Feeling suddenly light in body and soul, he got to his feet and swept her up into his arms.
He had carried her to bed the last time they made love and had seen her desire give way to desperation when he laid her on the sheets. Slowly, almost tentatively, he began to unfasten her gown, trying to gentle her, savoring the precious moments when she would still accept tenderness from him.
The light silk fell loose on her shoulders. Caroline lifted her arms and pulled the gown over her head, not hurriedly but with an earthy sensuality that was as languid as it was erotic.
The gown pooled on the floor beside the bed. Her corset followed. The candlelight flickered over her skin, warm and mysterious. Adam drew in his breath, feeling her warmth sear through him. His hands growing more and more unsteady, he traced the taut outline of her breasts beneath their thin linen covering. The evidence of her arousal made his own arousal stronger still. Blood and desire surged through him.
As he fumbled with her lace-edged underclothes, Caroline loosened his shirt and unfastened his breeches, eager but still not frantic. When he found her breasts with his mouth, she moaned but seemed content to let him linger, her fingers tangling in his hair, her body arching beneath his touch.