“Have you forgotten about our night out, love?”
She looked paler than usual and there were dark circles under her eyes that looked to be caused by illness. She seemed to sway listlessly where she stood. He rushed forward, caught her elbow, and guided her toward the sofa. She was unwell.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice cracking as though she were parched and hadn’t had a drop of water all day. “I haven’t been sleeping and I think the insomnia has finally caught up with me and has made me ill.”
Steadying her with one arm while his other supported her around the waist, he settled her carefully on the sofa. “I can see you’re ill. And I’m not generally one to point out any faults in the fairer sex. You look dreadful, Jez. Are you taking something to help you sleep?”
She gave him a weak smile. “You know me; if a glass or two of wine can’t settle me for the night, I’m not one to imbibe something stronger—no matter how much it’s needed.” She waved away his concern and collapsed back against the sofa as though her current state were normal. “I’ll be sitting the next few nights out.”
“You’ve always had trouble with sleep; are you sure you haven’t just eaten something off?”
“If anything it’s my soul purging the evil of my late husband.”
He shook his head. She was always so dramatic. “Would you like me to call in your maid?”
She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. The stairs are a little taxing right now, but manageable.”
“Then I’ll take you back up to bed straightaway, and I won’t hear otherwise.”
He didn’t give her a moment to protest as he lifted her up into his arms. It didn’t seem as though she had the energy to argue with him, however, for she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and rested her temple against his collarbone with a sigh.
When he passed through the drawing room door, the butler stood to attention; it seemed the man was awaiting his instruction. “Please go up ahead of me and get the doors. Your mistress needs to stay abed for at least one night to help cure what ails her.”
“Right away, my lord.”
When they entered her private chambers, he had the butler toss back her coverlet so he could settle her onto the mattress.
She rubbed the side of his face while he was still leaning over her. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Should I call for someone?”
She reached for his sleeve and held it tight, shaking her head all the while. “No. I’m sorry I didn’t send you a note to save you the trip here.”
He sat on the edge of her mattress. “I’ll stay if you want.” And he would; cards could be saved for another night. “I don’t like seeing you like this, Jez.”
“Even the strong have moments of weakness, my friend.”
Jez was like a little sister to him, despite the fact that only a few months separated them in age, he being older by three months.
“I’ll be better in a few days.” She yawned, garbling the last of her words.
“I’ll be by to check on you in the morning.”
“I just need to sleep. I promise you I’ll be in top form before the week is through.”
“You had better be, or I’ll have Bea over here to nurse you back to health, and she comes with two little imps that like nothing more than jumping on any cushioned surface and terrorizing the help.”
That brought a smile to Jez’s wan face, which made him feel a little better about leaving her alone for the night. And he was only leaving because she had insisted.
He brushed his lips against her cheek, and wished her a good night. He was sure she was asleep before he closed her bedchamber door behind him.
The butler walked him down to the door, all too eager to show him out. Something felt wrong. Before leaving, he turned to the old man. “Call on me if she worsens.”
“Will do, my lord.” The man bowed cordially.
“Have someone bring broth up to her.” She should eat something since she didn’t look as though she’d eaten for days. Hopefully the butler would pass the message on to the cook.
“Of course, my lord,” he said with a nod and closed the door behind Tristan.
Was the butler anxious to be rid of him? He’d never been ushered out of Jez’s house so fast. He stood on the front porch a moment, wondering what the best course of action would be. He could demand entrance into her home again and stay at her bedside to ensure she slept through the night, or leave her to her privacy and visit her on the morrow.
Jez valued her privacy above all things, so he was left with only one option: to check on her first thing in the morning. Maybe he should bring his sister along. In his experience, women opened up better to their own sex. He couldn’t blame them. There were a few things he would never talk about to anyone but another man, so why shouldn’t the same be true for a woman?
Hayden lived only a dozen townhouses down from Jez’s so he walked the rest of the way. The night brought cooler weather, and fog started to settle heavily on the streets, making visibility difficult. After he took the front steps of Hayden’s townhouse two at a time, the footman opened the door before Tristan could raise his hand to the knocker.
“Good evening, my lord.” The door was opened wide so Tristan could be admitted. He removed his hat and gloves, and handed them to the footman. “You’ll find His Grace in his study.”
“Has Leo arrived yet?” He handed off his cane once the footman hung his hat.
“Lord Barrington has been here for a quarter hour.”
“Thank you, Carson.”
He strolled down the long hallway that led to Hayden’s study and doubled as a vast library with a large collection of rare books—a pastime of Hayden’s father that had passed from son to son for six generations.
On entering, Leo greeted Tristan with a nod. “About time you arrived,” he said.
“I stopped by Jez’s. We were going to come together but she has taken ill.” Both men were silent. Did they already know? “Am I missing something?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Hayden said, and turned back to the sideboard where he was pouring out three glasses of whisky. “There goes my partner for whist. I suppose we could sit down and play an old man’s game.”
“Cribbage?” Leo suggested.
Hayden shrugged as he looked at them.
“Short a hand as we are, I think we can pass on the card game tonight. We’ll try again next week,” Leo said, and headed toward the sofa and chairs that circled a cozy spot by the fireplace.
Leo swirled his glass under his nose and inhaled the aroma. “Now that is nicely aged.”
Hayden took a sip of his drink and nodded his agreement as he set a tumbler in front of Tristan. “I had a few bottles brought down from my last trip over the border. Those Scots know how to make fine spirits.”
Tristan took his usual seat at the corner of the sofa and put his feet up on a footstool. He tasted his drink and agreed with Leo’s assessment when the liquor washed over his tongue and down his throat. It was smooth and delicious.
“You’re headed to the Carleton estate for part of the summer, aren’t you?” Hayden asked Leo.
Leo grunted and put his head back on the chair. “It’s not for a couple of weeks yet.” He looked at Tristan, and said, “Did you ever receive an invitation? I don’t remember you saying so.”
“Unfortunately I won’t be able to attend. My summers are devoted to Ronnie and Rowan.” Which they all knew, but maybe Leo thought Tristan’s outlook might have changed now that the Ponsley chit was participating in the summer fun.
“You could take a break from the family for once,” Hayden pointed out, as he sat back in the sofa, crossing his ankle over his knee.
“I’m well aware of that, but I choose not to. They’ll be off to school for the year before long, leaving me to life in London. I doubt I’ll miss anything at the Carletons’.”
Leo looked at him oddly. “It is usually the best party of the season.”
Tristan sh
rugged. “I’ve been once, and look where that landed me.”
“Ah, yes,” Hayden said. “But what else could you expect from a married woman whose husband wasn’t even in attendance?”
He’d not have put it past Ronnie’s mother to have passed the child off as her late husband’s had he died sooner. Instead, after an idyllic few weeks at the Carleton residence with him, his paramour had been forced into seclusion, and some nine months later, a babe was dropped on his doorstep with a note stating the child’s name.
“It’s not important,” Tristan said. “What’s far more interesting is the matter with the chaperone and Leo.”
Leo raised a brow, seemingly not put out by the prying observation. Tristan knew that Miss Camden was not up for discussion, but since they were dissecting Tristan’s life, turnabout was fair play.
“A chaperone?” Hayden said, bemused.
“Miss Camden and I go back a number of years. In fact, we met at one of the earlier Carleton parties.” Leo swirled his glass around on the arm of the chair.
“She’s either a puritan, and you won’t forgive yourself for not getting her petticoats above her—”
Leo was up from his reposed position on the chair and grabbing Tristan by the cravat before he could finish his sentence. Leo lifted him right from his seat and glared at him.
How very, very interesting.
There was no way to make a man angry faster than to insult a woman he revered above all others.
“You’ll refrain from making assumptions with that forked tongue of yours,” Leo snapped at him.
Hayden stood, ready to intervene. “Must we resort to fisticuffs in the study? Take it out to the street if you want to act like a pair of ruffians.”
Tristan wrapped his hand around Leo’s wrist and pried his friend’s hand loose from his cravat. “You’re predictable and foolish. If I can so easily make out your feelings toward her, how are you going to hide them from everyone else attending the Carletons’?”
The veins stood out on Leo’s neck, but he took a calming breath and reined in his rage. “There is nothing between Miss Camden and me. I’m merely ensuring that she doesn’t find herself in an unfavorable position. The Carletons’ parties are notorious for the scandals that brew behind the estate walls.”
Hayden sat again and put his feet up on the footstool. “Yet Tristan makes a valid point. Since the Ponsley girl will be in attendance, what exactly do you have planned for Lady Charlotte?”
“Nothing,” Leo responded as he released Tristan. He pulled his coat down, and fixed his sleeves, still glaring. “I’m paying my respects to the Carletons, keeping Miss Camden out of harm’s way and probably the girl in the process. I will also be visiting my estate while in Hertfordshire.”
“You should learn how to tell a lie,” Tristan said, straightening his cravat, never letting his eyes stray far from Leo since his friend was still angry.
Leo shrugged. “I’m sorry we’ll miss you.”
“I’m sure you are,” Tristan said.
He took his seat again and drank his glass of whisky as he listened to Hayden and Leo discuss Jez’s will before going on to upcoming parliament matters.
A certain troublesome chit consumed Tristan’s thoughts during their conversation. Would she be attending the most notorious house party of the season with her father’s approval? That seemed odd only because Ponsley and Carleton stood on opposing sides in political dealings. Could it be because the Carletons were influential?
The rest of their evening proceeded without incident. They stayed for two drinks, ate a few small plates of sandwiches, and bade Hayden a good evening.
Tristan walked with Leo since the night was warm and neither lived far. The fog continued to blanket the city.
“Why are you really attending the Carleton party?” Tristan asked.
Leo gave him a long look. “I have my reasons. But for now, they are my reasons alone.”
“You may be a changed man by the time you return.”
Leo shrugged noncommittally.
“You should see Jez soon. She wasn’t herself when I was there earlier.”
“You said she was ill.”
“There was something more. Something she wasn’t telling me.” Should he tell his friend that the butler had been anxious to be rid of Tristan? Perhaps he was overreacting. Leo would have to form his own opinion when he paid Jez a visit.
“She’s had a great shock since her husband’s death. Her life has spiraled in a direction she never wished for,” Leo said.
“True, but a life without her husband should be the start of something fresh.”
“One would think so. But I agree, she is acting odd.”
“I understand she’s distraught over the sordid business regarding the title and her income now that neither will be in her possession for long. But you should judge for yourself when you visit her next.”
“I had already planned on seeing her tomorrow.” Leo rubbed the side of his face where a day’s worth of beard was growing in. “You’ll have to keep an eye on her while I’m away. I don’t trust Warren.”
That made two of them, and he didn’t doubt for a second that Hayden felt the same way.
“Should something happen, I’ll send word. But Warren won’t get anywhere near her, that I can promise.”
Leo slapped Tristan on the back of the shoulder and turned to walk up the stairs to his townhouse. His staff was ever vigilant, and his valet opened the door before he could turn the handle up.
Tristan shoved one hand in his pocket, and the other clicked the cane against the cement with every step he took down the street. It was only half past eleven, but the streets were bustling with partygoers, and the night air warm and welcoming. There wasn’t a breeze to be had and the fog had settled in, taking hold of the city, reducing visibility the closer he got to his townhouse. Before long he was home. The maidservant came to him wide-eyed as his footman took his hat and cane and helped him with his jacket.
“My lord.” She curtsied, bobbing her head respectfully. “There be a visitor for you in the kitchen.”
“Who is it?”
“She won’t say, just says she’s got to see you upon your return.”
“Go on to bed, Sarah. I’ll make sure our visitor is taken care of.”
She curtsied and nodded again before heading to the back of the house where the servants’ quarters were. After dismissing his footman, he headed toward the kitchen, eager to know who could be paying him a visit so late in the evening. The brazier was going, and the amber light from the coals pressed out between the cracks of the door, which he opened slowly, still unsure who his midnight visitor might be.
She was cloaked and had a hood pulled over her head to hide her identity, and she was perched precariously on the edge of a wooden chair. He crossed his arms over his chest and pressed his shoulder against the door frame as though he were holding it up.
“I’m told you’re here to see me.”
She stood rather suddenly. Her hands reached up to the hood of her cloak and pushed the material back. Of all the women it might be—because he did have many acquaintances, not just paramours—he wasn’t expecting to see her face.
His eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed. What was she up to? Surely this was some sort of trickery. They’d seen each other a few days ago, and though neither of them had penned another letter, he was still thinking of ways to assist her.
Lady Charlotte’s bottom lip was wet where she’d likely been nibbling on it.
“And to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
“I hadn’t heard anything from you. I worried that you’d changed your mind.”
“You’ve not been far from my thoughts since last we met.” Which was the truth. He’d not stopped thinking about her, trying to find another way—aside from marriage—to help her out of her conundrum.
She sucked in her lower lip. “I—I was afraid to send another note.”
“That is no more
dangerous than you showing up here in the flesh, my lady.”
She glanced down at her entwined hands as though she were embarrassed by her actions. Had she been thinking about him, too, these past few days?
“I wanted to see you before I left for the country,” she whispered.
“You don’t leave for another week. And even then you will only be gone for a few weeks, Lady Charlotte.”
She reached for his arm, pulled him farther into the kitchen, and pushed the kitchen door shut. She released a breath of relief once they were cossetted in the relative privacy of the room. Now what? Good Lord, he’d never been baffled by the presence of a beautiful woman in all his life. But there was no denying that Lady Charlotte befuddled him.
“You should have sent a note. Your presence here is … dangerous.”
He didn’t want her taking any chances with her reputation—not till they had a firm plan in place. He reached for her arm, needing to touch her and assure himself that she was really here. A strong urge to take her in his arms and promise her that everything would work out nearly overtook him.
He took a step away from her as her gaze met his. Strike that. He wanted more than to comfort her. She needed to leave before he did something irrational like kiss that pout away from her lips.
“If you’re trying to frighten me off it won’t work,” she said.
“How else am I supposed to act when you show up at my house in the middle of the night? The only thing I want to do right now is to kiss those delectable lips of yours, Lady Charlotte.”
“Oh—I see.” She took a step back, her bravado faltering only for a moment. “I thought we shared a common goal?”
That brought a grin to his lips. “We do.”
He walked toward her, widening his arms, taking in her form, covered by that dreadful figure-shielding cloak. She took another step backward.
“What are you doing?”
Her voice was husky, and without an ounce of trepidation. He knew without question that she wanted to taste his lips just as much as he wanted to drink her in.
“If you want to ensure your marriage to Mr. Warren never happens, we can solve that problem right now.” The promise in his own voice halted his forward momentum for a second. Oh, the wicked things he wanted to do to her.
Midnight Temptations With a Forbidden Lord Page 10