What the Groom Wants
Page 33
She watched as the corners of his eyes crinkled with his smile. “Nay, luv, they’re all mine.” His thick burr sent lovely shivers down her spine, though she could barely understand a word he’d said. Normally, he adopted a proper English accent.
Still, she held his gaze, watching as his pupils dilated, losing the green into darker tones. She raised her hand to touch him in some way. She wanted to know the texture of his skin, the width of his mouth, the feel of a man.
“Here you go,” said Lady Anne as she rounded the corner carrying a tea tray. And suddenly, his lordship was two steps away from her. In the blink of an eye, Caroline’s view went from the man’s eyes to the shiny brass buttons on his coat. She glanced at Lady Anne but saw nothing amiss. If her ladyship had seen anything untoward, she gave no sign of it. Meanwhile, the earl took another step back and executed a handsome bow. “I shall leave you to it then, Anne. Mrs. Lyncott.”
Caroline looked up, unsure what to say. Their gazes caught and held, and in the silence she heard a strange sound—a shush, like the wind through the trees or the touch of a hand through meadow grasses. It was quiet and powerful, and yet she could barely hear it, much less feel its caress. She was so focused on trying to understand the sensations that when he spoke, the words startled her. His tone was too formal, too superficial, and not at all the subtle whisper she’d almost heard. “You will tell us if you need anything,” he said. “If you are distressed in any—”
“I am merely bruised, my lord.” She pushed through her confusion. “I have suffered much worse, I assure you.” She hadn’t meant to say that, though the knowledge was clear upon her scarred chest. But he didn’t know that so she flashed him a smile. “Of course, I will tell the staff if I need something.”
He studied her a little longer, as if trying to judge whether she lied. In the end, he had no choice but to withdraw. Caroline turned her attention to Lady Anne, who was pouring the tea, her hands steady though her expression was deeply troubled.
“Don’t speak anymore,” the lady said. “I am simply horrified by what happened. I cannot express how sorry I am. To think that it happened in our own home. In my bedroom!”
Caroline took the teacup, sipping obediently as Lady Anne settled in a chair across from her. In truth, the hot liquid did feel good on her throat.
“I am going to get you that gypsy tea. I know my brother is furious with me, and rightly so, but I cannot believe that Mr. Pike knowingly brought that horrible thief in here. He expressly told him to stay in the stable. I heard it myself, but…” She swallowed and looked away, but then a moment later, she was looking into Caroline’s eyes, her expression pleading. “I am so very sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t know how to help.”
Caroline set aside her tea with a smile. “I am fine, my lady.” Then she reached forward and squeezed her ladyship’s hand.
That motion was her undoing because it pulled at the pins that held her bodice in place. A single breath later, the tear in the dress fell open to reveal her scars.
Lady Anne’s gasp of surprise echoed in the room. Caroline tried to cover herself quickly, but there was no help for it. The woman had seen.
“Caroline,” she breathed. “What happened?”
Damnation. What was she supposed to do now?
About the Author
USA Today bestselling author Jade Lee has been scripting love stories since she first picked up a set of paper dolls. Ball gowns and rakish lords caught her attention early (thank you Georgette Heyer), and her fascination with the Regency era began. An author of more than thirty romance novels and winner of dozens of industry awards, she finally gets to play in the best girl heaven: a bridal salon! In her new series, four women find love as they dress the most beautiful brides in England. Lee lives in Champaign, Illinois.