“Yes.” A bright smile bloomed across Teresa’s face as she turned to peer at her husband seated at the head of the table. “I do hope we have a son first. William places great importance on an heir straightaway.”
“So you intend to have more children then?” Caroline hoped her question wasn’t too personal in nature. She couldn’t keep from noting the radiant glow of Teresa’s skin and how every so often she rested her palm atop her stomach in a sentimental maternal gesture.
“Oh, yes.” Teresa brought her attention around. “An heir and several spares, if my husband has his say, although I’d never complain. I’ve always dreamed of a large family and, well, I haven’t found the process unpleasant in the least.” A blush crept into her cheeks and she waved her hand in front of her face as if she wished it away.
Caroline wasn’t certain if the cloaked insinuation referred to the process beforehand or condition afterward, and she could never ask, appalled she’d already pried beyond the boundaries of their fledgling friendship.
“Now, enough about me. I’d like to know more of you, Caroline. I’m so pleased circumstances presented themselves to enable us to have this time together. Has any gentleman in particular caught your eye?”
Unprepared for an answer, Caroline glanced down the table, beyond her mother, who was in jovial conversation with the other ladies seated nearby, and farther to the opposite end, where she noted several seats remained empty. And then, as if she had no power over her own mind, she shifted her eyes toward the doorframe at the exact moment Lindsey entered. The flickering lamps from the hallway alcove served as the perfect backlighting, his entire dinner ensemble in black and the expression on his face as wicked and handsome as ever, the unyielding lines of his profile made all the more alluring by the acute intelligence in his eyes.
“Oh, dear.” Teresa exhaled a sigh of disapproval beside her. “Don’t be misled by Lord Lindsey.” No one could mistake the gentle reproach in her tone. “You’ll never catch him. He’s a blackguard, or so my husband has told me repeatedly.”
“Your husband knows Lord Lindsey well then?” Dragging her attention from the door, she forced herself to look at Teresa, though she could sense Lindsey’s presence as he moved forward, almost as accurately as if he’d taken her hand to lead him. Her heartbeat tripped and she itched to glance in his direction again.
“I’m embarrassed to admit before I married, I too became entranced by Lindsey’s enigmatic appeal and mentioned it to a friend, who repeated the same to my husband. I only knew Lord Henley in a casual sense, but he did everything in his power to dissuade me from considering Lindsey in a serious manner.”
“Perhaps your husband acted in his own interest, besotted with you himself and unwilling to allow competition.”
“True.” Lady Henley laughed softly. “It does sound like something my husband might instigate, although his worry would have been for naught. My heart was given to him without contest. Even a man as intriguing as Lindsey couldn’t sway my devotion once I became acquainted with my husband.”
“Yours is a love match.” Caroline nodded with surety, bringing her attention back again. She mentally chastised herself. “I desire the same.”
“Good luck to you then.” Teresa leaned to the opposite side as a footman reached over her shoulder to collect their soup bowls and replace a serving of neat’s tongue as the next course. The dish was completed with black currant custard in short glasses with sippets on top, the bread toasted golden brown.
“Lord Lindsey has never behaved untowardly, at least not that I’ve witnessed in our short acquaintance.” Except with Lady Jenkin in Lord Albertson’s study, and that matter in the garden earlier. What woman did he warn the other gentleman away from? Perhaps she’d embellished her answer. Still, aside from his heated kiss, he’d never taken advantage. She’d allowed him. And good lord, that kiss…
Teresa nodded her head back and forth, as if she couldn’t decide on a reply. “I doubt I’ve ever heard Lindsey described as a perfect gentleman, although he is a prime catch. All the gentlemen here are friendly, and I’m sure they enjoy this annual event or they wouldn’t return each year. It provides a handsome opportunity for the ladies to gather and mix with the gentlemen outside the usual ballroom affair. It’s peculiar how fickle and yet determined the heart is, able to reject some gentlemen at first glance and yearn for others no matter how detrimental the association. And of course, there’s the matter of your age.”
“My age?” Caroline straightened in her seat. Surely, she misunderstood. “I’m only two and twenty.”
“To my point exactly.” Teresa smiled to soften her words. “You’re five years younger than me, and that means a decade younger than Lindsey. You’ve the luxury of time where, clearly, he doesn’t. That’s not to say he’s looking for a wife. I haven’t heard one word to prove that true. The only thing he’s looking for is some old painting. He questioned my husband concerning the subject.”
Caroline considered her words carefully. “And do you socialize with the earl often?” Her new friend possessed a vociferous nature, and dare Caroline label it considerate to indulge Lady Henley’s penchant for conversation. Besides, if Lindsey was interested in artwork, her father could be of help. He collected many fine pieces and enjoyed viewing the galleries. They’d toured too many to count when they’d resided in Italy. With her most recent concerns, she’d specifically taken the liberty to investigate her family’s financial stability. Something unnamed nagged at her perception, but she hadn’t the time to consider it at the moment. Regardless, mayhap the earl could advise her father of an investment to be made.
“Often enough, I suppose. Lord Lindsey owns the property adjacent to ours to the east. Kingswood Manor, his country estate, is a sight to behold. I could easily lose myself in the luxuriant gardens. My Canna lilies are but a trifle compared to the manicured exotic flowers the gardeners tend there.”
Justifying her curiosity with the turn in conversation, Caroline shifted in her seat and eyed Lindsey at the opposite end of the table. With uncanny coincidence he stared back at her. Was it a trick of timing, or had he watched her all along? She could never know. Still, the emotion in his eyes and intensity of his gaze seemed to override the jubilant conversation and congenial atmospheric noise, so that in the span of a few heartbeats the two of them spoke an entire conversation, wordless and meaningful.
“Oh, dear.” Teresa leaned closer and murmured near Caroline’s ear. “It’s almost as if he knows we’re discussing him. But heavens, that’s impossible.” She ended with a bemused twitter of laughter. “Let’s change the subject just to be sure.”
Caroline crumpled the napkin in her lap to squelch unanswerable questions and then picked up her utensils with determined focus. Staring at Lindsey overlong proved dangerous. Her pulse began a hectic sprint and she released a long-held breath. Still, there was a tempting message in his dark gaze, made all the more appealing by the shadow of his lashes. They must speak soon.
* * * *
Bloody propriety and rules of etiquette. Caroline was seated at least fifteen places from him. Probably twenty. He was too distracted to count. All he wanted was to hear her voice and cause her to smile, but her witty conversation was lost at the other end of the table.
Realizing his mental musings were the complaint of a besotted cad, he took a hearty swallow of wine before he glanced in her direction again. He’d done his best to allow Mills the lead in the garden. With his temper ignited from the confrontation with Powell and the surprise of discovering Caroline, he’d needed a few minutes to regain his detached demeanor. So he’d remained a step behind the two of them, even though viewing Caroline’s hand linked through Mills’ arm was only soothed when he averted his gaze to her retreating form, the silk of her skirts little disguise for the lovely curves beneath. An unfamiliar feeling blanketed his heart, both then and now at the remembrance, and while he refused to label it
jealousy, no other moniker seemed adequate.
In the garden he’d distracted himself with mental aversions concerning Powell’s distinct coloring and the irritating suspicion he looked familiar, although they’d never met before.
But now, Lady Henley’s table arrangement kept him from Caroline and he’d rather it not. She was dressed magnificently in an uncommon shade of silk, not blue nor violet, but some shade of loveliness in between. The color made her eyes even more remarkable in contrast to her fair skin. Her hair was arranged in an attractive style, the sides held back by gemstone combs just high enough to reveal the graceful column of her neck. She pushed her food around on her plate, in search of the perfect morsel or otherwise distracted, he did not know.
She remained in amiable discussion with Lady Henley, and he watched Caroline’s attention drop to view the lady’s condition more than once. Perhaps Caroline desired children. He couldn’t tell if it was longing in her expression, his view partially obstructed at times. Yet something was amiss. He’d memorized the nuances of her expressions and noted shadows of other emotions clouded her eyes. A sudden ache in his chest prompted he should have spared her that unhappiness, and the ludicrous, irrational reaction almost brought him to laughter.
Most likely the lady wished for a collection of children. With regret he acknowledged they didn’t hold this in common. His father’s decree be damned, a family was something Lindsey did not want and would never have. He valued his careless freedom and would not invite commitment and ultimately grief into his otherwise suitable existence.
Caroline, like most women, yearned for the complete opposite. Or so he assumed. No doubt, she would enjoy a daughter. A precious girl with glossy black curls and brilliant blue eyes. Had he a daughter he would indulge her every whim and spend exorbitant sums on imported gowns and satin slippers, never mind the jewelry and fripperies that completed a resplendent wardrobe.
He gave his head a vigorous shake, as if to dismiss the thought, and returned his focus to the other end of the table.
Lady Henley said something that caused Caroline to nod in the negative, and he became transfixed by the inviting blush that stole up her cheeks. Did she blush everywhere? She would if she could read his mind. A fervent urge to touch, taste, explore overtook him and he allowed his imagination free rein. He’d lick across her nipples first, smooth his fingers over her ribcage as he worked his mouth downward to dip his tongue into her navel, lower still to taste her sweet sex.
A burst of laughter from two guests at his right shook him into awareness, and a good thing too, or he’d develop a condition in his trousers that would not easily be explained to the gentlemen on either side of him.
What was wrong with him anyway? He knew better. Innocence was forbidden for someone of his years. He was a disciplined man with a strict code of conduct when it came to proper ladies. He needed a willing mistress and convenient noncommittal arrangement. Instead he sat at this damnable affair, hard and restless.
Best Caroline found a respectable gentleman for a husband. He could aid in her search. A few well-placed words would invigorate interest with the right sort. She might not welcome his advice, but if she never knew of his interference…
Not Mills.
Someone deserving of her rare beauty and intelligence. That’s exactly what Caroline needed.
Liar. You don’t want her to favor anyone.
She turned her eyes in his direction and the impact of their matched gaze rocked him to his soul.
He was a fool. A man in want of what he could not have. Twice the fool moreover.
Chapter Fifteen
Lindsey strode toward the east wing and aimed for the cardroom, where he intended to win all of Quinn Powell’s money and extract information concerning the Decima, or at the least determine why the man was seeking the same painting as he. His father hadn’t set a time limit on Lindsey’s completion of the will’s conditions, but he wasn’t fool enough to believe he would ever find peace until the matter was resolved. Barlow, the damnable solicitor, had expressed Lindsey’s access to accounts would narrow as weeks turned into months and too, a recent letter from his own man of accounts confirmed a fortification of funds was needed. Time to make haste.
He rounded the rear corner and nearly collided with a gaggle of ladies as they exited a nearby chamber. After dinner, the women had retired to the drawing room for music and conversation while the men had dispersed in a variety of directions, some at billiards or cards, others off to more clandestine pursuits. Lindsey released a sigh as the chattering group advanced. He couldn’t be distracted by Caroline at the moment, and conveniently she wasn’t among the throng. He’d already spent too much time conjuring wicked fantasies and ignoring his singular goal for this country party, lest he forget his main purpose.
The last of the ladies passed, and he hesitated only when two elongated shadows arrowed across the threshold. Perhaps other lingering guests still needed to move along.
Indeed.
Caroline and her mother came into view several paces behind the former group, who’d already progressed down the corridor in conversation. Drawn by a force he still hadn’t mastered, his eyes sought hers. Her face displayed surprise upon seeing him and a becoming warmth crept into her cheeks, quick to color them a fetching shade of rose. She smiled, as if that same flower came to bloom, and his heart thrummed harder.
“Ladies, I beg your pardon.” He rocked back and noted the delight on Caroline’s face. There was no way for her to have known he would be out in the hall at this moment, but if he read her expression correctly, the incident pleased her immensely.
“Lord Lindsey, how good to see you again.” Lady Derby greeted him cordially.
Clearly the woman hadn’t heard the worst of his character, or else she’d dismissed it as unsubstantiated gossip, though he doubted the latter. Most especially as he knew the familial relation to the Notley gells and their penchant to stay abreast of societal minutiae.
“My lord.” Caroline’s voice drew his attention, and the two syllables stroked over him like a velvet caress.
“Lady Nicholson.” His voice matched hers with adoration, though he didn’t make a show of kissing her palm. He couldn’t touch her and then release her. He knew his boundaries. Knew how far he could test his desire. “I was after the gaming room.” He glanced toward the left. “I don’t suppose you’ve just finished a scandalous round of whist or cutthroat wager on a toss of dice?”
“Such a charmer.” Lady Derby laughed and eyed her daughter knowingly. “Beware his silver tongue, Caroline.” She motioned backward toward the doorway they’d just crossed. “I’ve forgotten my fan in the drawing room and shall be less than a minute. Lord Lindsey, may I be so bold as to impose on your good manners and ask you engage my daughter in conversation until I return?”
“It is my honor and pleasure.” He smiled as Lady Derby stepped away and then dropped his voice low. “Your mother is far too trusting. Pray tell me she doesn’t appeal to other gentlemen with the same unquestioning sincerity.”
“Is it an imposition then?”
Minx. How artfully she’d avoided an answer. He stepped closer, just near enough to inhale her delicate perfume. “Have you explored Lord and Lady Henley’s study as of yet? I haven’t the opportunity, but know for a fact I’ll be in search of a good novel come later tonight.”
Her brows dipped in confusion and then buoyed up again.
“Is that an in—”
“There now. It was just where I thought it would be, right as rain.” Lady Derby rejoined them, and the mood shifted along with the avenue of conversation.
Had Caroline understood his message?
“Thank you, Lord Lindsey.” Caroline lowered into a curtsy, the gesture unnecessary considering their association and the searing hot kiss he had yet to scrub from his brain. Though it did offer a fine view of her enticing décolletage.
Snapping his head around, he strode toward the rear of the estate and soon located the cardroom, filled with male conversation and the pervasive odor of tobacco and old leather. He checked the room, corner to corner, table by table, until his eyes settled on Powell seated near a shadowy corner.
Something about the man warned him away, but he was determined to recover the lost painting and be closer to ridding himself of his father’s interference in his life. Powell remained an anomaly. How would an untitled man, one who appeared more street brawler than dasher, acquire a priceless work of art, or even rub elbows with those who collected fine masterpieces? How had he managed an invitation to this affair? With little effort, Lindsey sensed distrustful qualities in Powell that bespoke of a need for caution. Perhaps he’d already located the thief and not the other way around.
He approached, and Powell’s profile, sharp nose and angular chin, issued another series of warning bells to resound in his soul. Goddammit, Powell reminded him of his father. No wonder Lindsey had acquired an instant dislike toward the man. It was inevitable.
“Either join the game or move along. I have no desire to be gawked at all evening.”
Powell’s rude remark left the other player at the table quiet, their game stalled.
Not one to ignore a challenge, Lindsey strode toward the table and took the only open chair. “Have room for a third?”
“That depends.” Powell eyed the player across the felt. “Shall we take his money, Sheffield?”
“Not excepting you always make wagering an interesting affair, Lindsey, I think I shall refrain this evening.” Sheffield gave a cut nod and rose from his seat. “I sense a private conversation is imminent.” He gathered his coins from the area before him and slid them into his pocket. “We’ll continue at a later date, Powell. This interruption is only a delay, not a pardon.” And with nothing further to say, the elder gentleman turned and left.
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