Confessions at Midnight

by Jacquie D’Alessandro

  "Droopy?" Carolyn guessed.

  "Yes. All were abandoned or left fer dead. Samuel finds the beasts and brings 'em to his lordship and together they save 'em."

  With each passing minute Carolyn's amazement grew. She'd had no idea of this aspect of Lord Surbrooke's character. That he was a man who would not only rescue a former thief, but open his home to the young man, and now to Katie. That he would aid in the rescuing of injured and abandoned animals. She hadn't considered Lord Surbrooke to be anything more than a gentleman of leisure who sought his own pleasures.

  Such was her amazement, she couldn't help but voice it. "I had no idea Lord Surbrooke devoted his time and resources in such a way."

  "'Tis a surprise," Katie agreed. Then her expression hardened. "From wot I've seen, not many men in his position would."

  She couldn't argue with that statement. "What else did Samuel tell you?"

  "That he just found a new puppy and named him Baldy. And there're other dogs but because they'd gotten so many, they live at his lordship's country estate in Kent. Then there are the cats-Blinky and Tippy."

  She recalled the one-eyed cat in the foyer. "I believe I saw Blinky. What is Tippy's ailment?"

  "One leg shorter than the others, I believe. Besides the cats there've been a few squirrels and a rabbit. Who quickly popped out several more rabbits."

  "That must have been a surprise," Carolyn said with a smile, dabbing salve on a shallow cut over Katie's brow.

  "No doubt. And then there's the parrot. His name is Naughty. Don't know why he's named that-we arrived here before Samuel could tell me."

  "It makes for interesting speculation," Carolyn murmured.

  Katie winced when Carolyn dabbed at a bruise on her cheek. "I'm sorry," Carolyn said. "Does it hurt terribly?" The swollen dark purple skin looked tender and painful.

  "No, milady. Certainly not in comparison to some of the hurts I've had."

  Carolyn's stomach plummeted at the young woman's bleak words. Before she could find her voice, a knock sounded at the door. Lord Surbrooke entered, followed by her maid Gertrude, whose motherly face was wreathed with concern as she looked at Katie.

  "Katie, this is Gertrude, my abigail," Carolyn said. "She's taken care of me for years and is one of the kindest people I've ever known."

  "I brought one of my own night rails for ye, my dear, so we can get ye comfortable," said Gertrude, tufts of gray hair sticking out of her obviously hastily donned cap. "Then I'll see to cleanin' yer clothes."

  Katie blinked her swollen eyes. "Ain't never had nobody wait on me before."

  "I've instructed my butler, Barkley, to show you to one of the guest rooms," Lord Surbrooke said. "I'll send up my maid as soon as she arrives and have Cook prepare some broth."

  "Don't you worry, my lord, we'll be just fine," Gertrude said, gently helping Katie to stand. "I'll watch over the young lady."

  Barkley stood at attention in the doorway. The butler had clearly been warned about Katie's aversion to strange men, for he made no attempt to assist her, rather just led Gertrude and Katie from the room.

  Standing next to the fireplace, Carolyn watched Lord Surbrooke close the door after them. The soft click reverberated in the quiet room. For several seconds he remained facing the door, his head bowed, as if by some weight too heavy to bear. Then he turned and their gazes met. All the unexpected things Katie had told her rushed through Carolyn's mind, and she felt as if she were seeing him for the first time.

  He dragged his hands down his face and offered her a ghost of a smile. "Quite an eventful evening."

  "Yes…"

  Her reply trailed off as he walked slowly toward her, halting when an arm's length separated them. Her body seemed to strain toward him and she braced her knees to keep from stepping forward to erase that slice of space that simultaneously felt like too much and not nearly enough of a distance. She was about to curl her fingers inward so as not to reach out and brush back the errant lock of hair spilling onto his forehead, when he lightly clasped her hands.

  Warmth engulfed her fingers. The sensation of his bare hands on hers rippled tingles of pleasure through her. "Thank you," he said, his serious blue eyes steady on hers. "It was very kind of you to help."

  "It was my pleasure to do so. That poor girl. She's very fortunate her injuries weren't more severe." Her gaze searched his. "Are you going to take her on as a maid?"

  "Yes."

  "Do you need another maid?"

  He shrugged. "A house this size can always use more help."

  His nonchalance proved to her what she'd suspected-that he didn't need another maid at all. Yet he was willing to give an unfortunate young woman a job. Something inside her seemed to shift, but before she could define the sensation, he gently squeezed her hands then released them. She immediately missed the warmth of his skin pressed against hers.

  "Would you like to go home?" he asked.

  Her common sense told her to leave, that she'd done what she could to help and it was therefore time to go. But her mind buzzed with curiosity, dozens of questions about him she wanted answered. She'd clearly misjudged at least certain aspects of his character. What else had she been wrong about? There was only way to find out. And she very much wanted to know.

  "I'll stay with Gertrude, until your maid and cook arrive," she said.

  She couldn't tell by his expression if he was pleased or not. Indeed, a curtain seemed to have fallen over his features. "Can I interest you in a drink?" he asked, walking toward a mahogany end table upon which rested a trio of crystal decanters. "I'm afraid I cannot offer you tea until Cook arrives, but I have brandy, port, or sherry, if you'd like."

  More to have something to do with her fidgety hands than because she desired a beverage, she said, "Sherry, please."

  After pouring the drinks, he rejoined her and lifted his snifter. "Here's to… neighbors. And friendship. You have my gratitude for answering my call for help, especially at such an ungodly hour."

  She touched the rim of her glass to his, and the ring of crystal echoed through the room. "'Twas no hardship. I hadn't yet retired."

  His gaze skimmed over the aqua gown she'd worn to the Gatesbourne soiree. "So I see. Shall we sit?"

  The prospect of sitting with him on the cozy sofa in this cozy room felt far too… cozy. And much too tempting. "Actually, I'm feeling…" Far too drawn to you. "… rather restless." True, although the reason had nothing to do with applying salve and bandages, and everything to do with him.

  "Restless. Yes, a feeling I share." He hesitated for several seconds, then suggested, "A walk through the conservatory, then?"

  That sounded safe enough.

  Certainly safer than the quiet, fire-lit intimacy of the drawing room.

  After all, what could possibly happen in a room filled with plants?

  She offered him a smile. "A walk through the conservatory sounds lovely."

  Chapter Ten

  At one soiree, after a waltz during which he'd blatantly undressed me and made love to me with this eyes, I pulled him into a nearby room and locked the door. And let him finish what he'd started on the dance floor.

  Memoirs of a Mistress by An Anonymous Lady

  Daniel tossed back his brandy in a single swallow and inwardly grimaced at the fire burning down his throat to his stomach. The last bloody thing he needed was anything else to make him more heated. The mere sight of Carolyn, here, in his drawing room, sipping his sherry, was more than enough to make him feel as if he'd stepped into a roaring hearth.

  He watched her delicately sip her sherry. How did she manage to look so beautiful even when doing something as mundane as drinking? His hungry gaze moved lower, drawn to the swell of her generous breasts, which her gown hinted at, then over the flattering aqua garment that perfectly complimented her creamy skin and blue eyes. He'd be hard pressed to name another woman who would have immediately-and personally-answered his call for assistance, not even pausing to change out of her finery. And was willing to
act as nurse to a stranger, and actually possessed the skills to do so. Aspects of her besides her beauty to admire. And it suddenly hit him that he didn't require any others. That in fact he quite admired her more than enough already.

  He felt the weight of her regard and looked up. And discovered her staring at the vee opening in his shirt. With an expression that indicated she liked what she saw. His shoulders tensed and he tightened his hold on his empty snifter to keep from yanking her into his arms and kissing her until she admitted that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  She glanced up and their gazes collided. The crimson that rushed into her cheeks made it plain she was aware she'd been caught staring. She took a hasty sip of sherry then set down her glass on the mahogany side table.

  After he did the same, they quit the room and headed down the dimly lit corridor leading to the conservatory. From the corner of his eye he noted her twisting her fingers together, a good indication she felt the same awareness, the same thick tension, as he did. A promising sign, as far as he was concerned.

  "You're remarkably adept at cleaning and bandaging cuts," he remarked, wading into the silence.

  "Sarah was quite the hoyden as a child," she said, her lips curving upward in obvious affectionate remembrance. "I spent many hours doctoring her many scrapes and cuts. And a few of my own."

  "You're not the least bit squeamish?"

  "No. If I'd been born a boy I would have followed in my father's footsteps and become a physician."

  His brows shot up in surprise. He'd never heard an aristocratic woman say such a thing-that she aspired to a profession. But of course, Carolyn wasn't born into the peerage. "You said Sarah was a hoyden. How did you come about your scrapes and cuts?"

  A smile tugged at her lips. "I have a confession to make."

  Interest flared within him. "Oh? Pray don't keep me in suspense. But I find it only fair to remind you-confessions at midnight can be a dangerous thing."

  "Then how fortunate for me it's well past midnight." Mischief danced in her eyes, and leaning closer, she confided with a conspiratorial air, "I used to… climb trees."

  He wasn't sure if he was more surprised, intrigued, or amused. "Never say so."

  "I'm afraid it's true. And balance on fallen tree stumps. And jump along the rocks that protruded around the pond near our home. Fell in the water more than once."

  A memory attempted to crawl up from where it resided in the depths of his soul and he quickly slammed shut the dungeon door to keep it from seeing the light of day. "I'm quite certain you're telling me a Bunbury tale, my lady. You're not capable of such shocking behavior."

  "I assure you it's true. My mother always insisted my behavior be flawless, yet she put no such restrictions on Sarah."

  "Why is that?"

  She hesitated, clearly considering whether to tell him. Finally she said, "Much to my consternation, I was always Mother's favorite. She considered Sarah hopelessly plain and paid little attention to her, pinning all her hopes-actually, expectations-on me to marry well. Her favoritism hurt Sarah deeply, and me as well, as I adored Sarah from the day she was born. I escaped Mother's stifling clutches every chance I could, and when I did, I joined Sarah in tree climbing and rock jumping, or whatever grand adventure she was undertaking. Mother would have flown into the boughs had she known, so to cover up those occasions when I'd slip and fall, I learned how to treat my own injuries. And Sarah's as well." She flashed a smile. "Since Father was a physician, it wasn't terribly difficult to figure out. Or to pilfer bandages."

  They'd reached the glass doors leading to the conservatory and he paused. "I must admit I'm taken unawares at this unexpected side of you, my lady."

  "I assure you it's true. In fact, I sport a scar on my ankle-a souvenir of one of my less successful tree climbing adventures. I consider it a badge of honor."

  He grasped the curved brass knob and opened the door. The air around them was instantly inundated with a floral fragrance layered with hints of freshly turned soil. A silvery beam of moonlight fell upon the stone floor, shimmering down from the glass panels set in the high ceiling. He glanced up and noted a glimpse of a pearly moon set in a black, velvety sky strewn with diamondlike stars.

  "How lovely," she murmured, stepping farther into the warm room.

  "I thought you might like it."

  "I do. Very much." She pulled in a deep breath then smiled. "It must be glorious in the daylight."

  "Yes, but I actually prefer coming here at night. I find it very…"

  "Peaceful?"

  He nodded. "Yes. The perfect spot for contemplation."

  There was no missing her surprise. "I wouldn't have thought you a man given to quiet reflection."

  "Clearly you don't know me as well as you believe."

  She gave him a searching look. "Actually, I don't believe I know you very well at all." Before he could assure her that he was delighted to tell her anything she might wish to know, she continued, "Sarah has always had great love for plants and flowers. Is your interest of a long-standing nature?"

  He led her slowly down an aisle of lustrous greenery. "It was actually one of my mother's great passions. This conservatory was her favorite room in the house. It fell into disrepair after she died. When I inherited the house three years ago upon my father's death, I had it refurbished. I maintain it in her memory."

  "I'm sorry for your loss," she murmured. "I cannot imagine the difficulty of losing both parents. How old were you when your mother died?"

  "Eight." Determined to change the subject, he pointed to the upcoming section of flowers. "The roses," he said. He snapped off a nearby bud, removed the thorns from the stem, then held the bloom out to her. "For you."

  "Thank you." She lifted the offering to her nose and inhaled, then held the flower up to examine it in a shimmering ribbon of moonlight. "It doesn't appear to be pure white," she said, slowly turning the stem between her fingers.

  "It's a very pale pink, a color my groundskeeper calls 'blush.'" He reached out and stroked his fingertip over the edge of a petal. "This flower reminds me of you."

  "Why is that?"

  "Because it's delicate. Fragrant. And very, very lovely." He brushed the fingertip that had just touched the rose over her soft cheek. "And because you blush so beautifully."

  As if on cue, color rushed into her cheeks, and he smiled. "Just like that."

  His compliment clearly flustered her, and she looked down as they continued to slowly walk along the aisle. After several long seconds of silence, she remarked, "You must have left the party early."

  "I had no desire to stay after you departed."

  Carolyn's gaze snapped to him and her breath caught at his intense regard. He was looking at her as if she were a sweet confection and he harbored a craving for sugar. Oh… my. And it wasn't just what he said, but the way he said it, in that low, husky voice. The tension that had gripped her from the moment she found herself alone with him doubled, and her entire body seemed to burst into flame-and he hadn't even touched her. Except for that whisper of a caress against her cheek moments ago, which had left a trail of fire in its wake.

  And she realized that in spite of her wish for it to be otherwise, she wanted him to touch her. Very much.

  What would he do if she told him so? If she said, I want you to touch me. Kiss me.

  He'd oblige you, her inner voice whispered.

  Yes. And she'd once again feel all the magic she'd experienced on the two other occasions he'd touched her. Kissed her.

  She gripped the rose's stem to keep from fanning her hand in front of her overheated face. Desperate for something, anything, to say that didn't include the words kiss me, she said, "Katie told me about the interesting array of pets you've saved."

  "Ah, yes, they're quite a colorful group-or perhaps 'herd' is a better description."

  "Saving abandoned animals… it is a surprising and unusual pursuit for an earl."

  "Believe me, no one was more surprised than I. It's
truly Samuel's enterprise, but when he brought home his first find, a half-starved, sickly, pure black cat missing an eye, I couldn't refuse. Blinky fully recovered and is now an honored member of the household."

  She smiled at the pet's name. "I saw Blinky in the foyer when I arrived."

  "Only because she prowls the house at night. Beast does nothing but nap before the hearth all day."

  His grumpy words were belied by the obvious affection in his voice. "Regardless, not many employers would help their servant in such a way. Or allow them to bring home stray after stray."

  "I fear I've little choice, as the need to help those less fortunate is deeply ingrained in Samuel's nature."

  "Clearly. It is an admirable attribute. Most likely the result of the kindness you showed him."

  He halted at the end of the row and turned to face her. "Obviously Samuel told Katie-"

  "Who told me. Yes."

  He shrugged. "I did nothing anyone else wouldn't have done."

  She raised her brows. Surely he didn't truly believe that. "On the contrary, I think many people would have left a person who'd attempted to rob them where he fell. Or summoned the authorities. You saved his life."

  "I merely offered him a choice. He was smart enough to choose wisely."

  "A very generous choice, after you'd very generously saved his life."

  Again he shrugged. "It just so happened I was in need of a footman."

  Why did he insist on making light of what he'd done? She considered asking him, but decided to let the matter rest. For now. But she couldn't deny she was both surprised and intrigued by this unforeseen modest aspect of him-in addition to all the other unexpected aspects she'd learned this evening. The man was full of surprises.

  He nodded toward the corner. "Would you care to sit?"

  She craned her neck and saw a floral brocade settee set in the corner, surrounded by tall, leafy palms set in porcelain vases. A swatch of moonlight glazed the sitting area in a silvery glow, lending it an almost magical air. Unable to resist the enchanting spot, she nodded and murmured, "Thank you."