Page 76 of The Secret Love of a Gentleman
When he took the reins, he glanced at her. She sat straight, stiff-backed, on the seat. In a proud posture, her face hidden behind the brim of her bonnet. He set the horses into a steady trot.
‘I suppose you have ridden in far more luxurious curricles than my phaeton…’
Her head turned and she smiled broadly. ‘No, actually.’ The sunlight caught in her eyes, making them gleam gold. ‘I have never been taken for a drive before.’
‘Then, I should have taken you out when I stayed at Drew’s. I could have shown you how fast my horses can fly.’
‘They may be fast, but I am sure they cannot fly, Rob.’
‘Very well, I admit they cannot, but it feels as though they can when you are going at a gallop and racing on a wind.’
He steered the horses about a corner, the wheels splashing through puddles left by a night of rain. He would leave St James and take them away from the fashionable areas of London. He glanced at her. ‘Caro…’ He waited for her head to turn, so he could see her face. ‘We can go to the Tower of London if you like, or we could go to my apartment instead.’
She smiled. ‘I have visited the Tower a dozen times.’ Her pale eyebrows lifted, saying she knew that was never his intention, as she admitted her part in his conspiracy.‘I have never been there. That would be kind of you, Rob.’
‘My apartment it is, then.’ He looked ahead, then added, ‘Have you really never ridden in a high curricle?’
‘I would not fib for the sake of your ego.’ She laughed. ‘Only to spend some time alone with you.’
The sound of her laugh was like a sharp stab into his heart, but it was a sweet pain.
He drove through the back streets, avoiding the routes society preferred. They did pass a couple of society carriages, adorned by coats of arms that implied the occupants might know her, but she lowered her head, hiding within her bonnet, and he doubted anyone would be interested in who sat beside him. It was the rest of his family who were important. He was not even considered a member of the ton because he had no title.
He steered into the mews where he stabled his curricle and horses, and stopped in the stable yard, remembering how she was used to stopping outside a door, where the grooms came running.
A senior groom walked forward. ‘Will you need the curricle again today, sir?’
‘Yes, in an hour or two.’
‘An hour, or two hours, sir?’
‘Actually, have it ready for three hours’ time, please.’
‘Very well, sir.’ The man touched the brim of his cap, in deference, as a young stable boy came out to hold the horses’ heads.
Rob tied off the reins, then climbed down and came about the carriage to help Caro descend. He did not take her hand, but his hands hovered at her waist as she turned to navigate the curricle’s steep, narrow steps.
She kept her head lowered, demurely, hiding her face within her bonnet as they left the mews, and crossed the street.
‘My apartment has a private staircase,’ he said, leading her to the glossy-black-painted door. He took the key from his pocket, his hand shaking as he turned it in the lock.
He ought not to be doing this.
She swept past him, the lavender in her perfume catching in his nostrils. When he shut the door behind them, he threw the bolt, just to be sure, as her boots struck the steps of the stairs with a quick rhythm.
He followed her up, hurrying too, and at the top, as she stood before his door, he caught hold of her, pulled the loose end of the bow securing her bonnet, and said, as her bonnet tumbled down her back to the floor, ‘You must accept my apology now, for this and much more.’
‘You are forgiven,’ she replied in the moment before his lips touched hers.
It felt as though he had spent his last weeks in a desert and Caro was water. Their mouths opened and their tongues danced thirstily, for a few long moments.
‘I love you,’ he said as he pulled away and opened the door to his rooms.
She did not look about the sitting room, at the small amount of purposeful furniture, but pushed his thick greatcoat from his shoulders, expressing that her purpose for being here was thesame as his. As she tugged at the knot of his cravat, he released the buttons at the front of her pelisse, getting into a tangle that brought laughter from their throats.
‘Shall we undress ourselves and not each other…?’ she suggested.
He nodded in agreement.
