Page 37 of The Secret Love of a Gentleman
‘Indeed.’ She offered her hand.
She had forgotten how to live when she ran away from Albert. Or perhaps chosen not to live, torturing herself for her failures.No longer.
It became the pattern of the evening. She did not sit down. Each time a dance ended, another gentleman was introduced to her, and she danced with her brother and with Rob again too.
When they travelled home in Drew’s carriage, it was two in the morning, and she was tired and quiet, as a melee of emotions fought and hummed within her like a busy beehive. But happiness was the first of the emotions.
She was physically exhausted yet she did not think she would be capable of sleep.
Her gaze collided with Drew’s. He sent her a gleeful smile, and shook his head at her, as though in wonder. She had surprised him, but also surprised herself.
Mary’s head rested against his shoulder, as he held her hand in his lap. She was asleep.
Caro looked at Rob, who sat close beside her. He was staring out of the far window. She wished to hold his hand and lean against his shoulder.
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Rob leaned back against the squabs of the carriage, intensely aware of the heat radiating from Caro’s thigh, so close to his.
They shared a kiss…
He had not danced with anyone other than Caro and Mary; he did not like to in case Caro needed him. But that meant he watched her for the entire evening. He was addicted now.
Weeks ago, Uncle Robert asked what Rob’s weakness was.Perhaps it is Caro.
When they reached home, Drew handed Mary and Caro down and offered Caro his arm to walk into the house.
Rob followed, speaking with Mary.
‘I shall retire immediately, if you do not mind?’ Caro said to them all.
‘I will too,’ Mary said.
‘Then I shall retire as well,’ Drew stated.
‘Goodnight, then,’ Rob responded. He was not tired. He kissed Mary’s cheek as Caro climbed the stairs, and nodded at Drew, then looked at the lone footman, who had waited up for them. ‘Iam going to the drawing room and I can look after myself. You may retire.’ He picked up a candelabra and took it with him.
In the drawing room, he stripped off his coat and his waistcoat and set them over the back of a chair, then pulled off his cravat and poured himself a glass of whisky before occupying the most comfortable armchair.
He shut his eyes and let his head fall back.
His blood hummed. Even now, the thought of their kiss made his groin heavy. He was thirsty, but not for the liquor, or any other liquid. It was a thirst to learn more, to find out how things might feel with Caro. He had always deferred to his morals. Always.
But God! I am tempted.
Would she be horrified if she knew what he thought?
He lifted his head, opened his eyes and sipped the whisky, seeking to regain the reins on his desires. He had never found it hard before. He had been tempted by a barmaid or two, but it was reasonably easy to remind himself of all the reasons to say no. With Caro it was more than a visceral physical need, it was a close connection that had come from friendship and progressed to…What?He did not even know what this was, all he knew was he wanted to behave in a way that was nothing to do with friendship.
When they waltzed, he felt the muscle in Caro’s back shifting with her movements, and his mind had imagined the touch of her smaller hand and her lips on his skin.
The door swung open. He looked up, he thought the servants were in bed.
It was his phantom.
‘Caro.’
An apparition in a silk, deep red robe and pure white cotton nightdress walked across the room. Her hair hung in a plait across her shoulder, brushing across her full bosom. His gazedropped to her bare toes, peeking from beneath the hem of her nightdress.
