Page 16 of Bedding the Marquess
Gideon did notreturn to his bedchamber until the wee hours of the morning. Caroline had been a good sport for several hours, but he’d recognized the undeniable signs of fatigue upon her face as the clock ticked over past midnight. Despite her denials and determined efforts, her stamina wasn’t what it once had been.
As he all but deposited her into her bed, he wondered if this was common in pregnant women. He’d done what he could the past several days since learning Caroline was expecting to learn of what a woman went through when she was enceinte, what she might need, what changes might occur. Of course, he’d learned precious little; few men he knew were fathers (intentionally or otherwise), and a man could only make so many subtle inquiries of his staff before people grew suspicious. It had been uncomfortable and deuced awkward, but he knew it was something he needed to do to better understand what Carowas experiencing—even more, hewantedto do it for her. It was the least he could do after impregnating her; it was something he owed to her. To be honest, it allowed him to feel even closer to her than he already did. He’d believed he understood her like no one else, but this line of inquiry afforded him a very personal insight into her life as she lived it. He was starved for every bit of knowledge he could obtain. She’d become as much a part of his life as his right arm; without her, he would be lost. It was a privilege to have the opportunity to care for her, and it was thrilling to realize that he no longer had to mask his gestures beneath the guise of simple friendship. He was her husband and could do whatever he damned well pleased.
Now, if only he knew how she felt about him in return.
Gideon had lingered in Caro’s bedchamber just long enough to see her crawl beneath the coverlet, looking small and virginal—and unaccountably enticing—in her white lace nightdress, before forcing his legs to move lest he give in to his impulse to follow her there. More times than he could count, he’d pondered what it would be like to hold her as she dreamed, to be lulled to sleep by the gentle sound of her breathing.
He knew enough that this was not simple male desire for a woman; this was nothing he had felt before. Rather than slaking his desire for her, sharing her bed had only torn open whatever sensible defenses he’d prepared to safeguard their friendship.
From the day they’d met, he—and likely every other man who knew her—had been of the opinion that Caro was remarkably enticing. Her sultry laugh, playful sense of humor, willingness to explore, sense of adventure, and, of course, her attractive figure were all intensely pleasing. This, however, was different.
And it hadn’t begun the moment they repeated their vows.
This went back to the night they’d shared in each other’s arms. He needed to possess her in a quintessential way. He’d already planted his seed, but he wanted more.
Oh, yes, he wanted her.
In a way, he always had.
It had been apparent from the first that their personalities meshed with the simplicity and ease of two people who were meant to be in one another’s lives. They’d become so comfortable as friends, so much so that it became painful to consider asking if she might want more for fear that it would send what they had up in flames. Caro had become an integral part of his life, and he liked to think she felt the same after all this time.
Gideon supposed this was the reason why, when she’d propositioned him that night, he’d thrown all caution to the wind and relinquished control to his baser instincts. He’d desired her for so long, had given up all but the slimmest of hopes that she desired him, and then, faced with everything he’d secretly longed for and never hoped to act upon, he’d dove in without forethought or sense. To be fair, she seemed to lose a bit of control, herself.
His back bore the marks of her passion for days following their assignation…and he’dlovedit.
Gideon climbed into his cold bed, now aching and frustrated by the memory of that glorious night and the fact that the object of those desires was just on the other side of a wall, and well within his right to claim.
Instead, he lay awake a long, long while, wishing he wasn’t so alone.
Chapter Eight
The following morning,the Swanleigh household packed up to retreat to the country house in Kent for the duration of Caroline and Gideon’s honeymoon period. Caroline had attempted to insist upon the unnecessary effort and expense, but Gideon remained steadfast in his belief that they take some time away from the stir that would strike London as soon as news of their wedding took flight.
While he was preoccupied with a last-minute meeting with his solicitor, Caroline was busy directing the loading of the last of the luggage when a young woman arrived on the doorstep. She was angelic and ethereal with white-blond hair and doe-like glittering eyes, full lips, and pleasant curves. In all, she was beautiful.
Caroline paused in the doorway of the home as the young woman sidestepped a footman and reached the top step.
“May I help you?” Caroline asked, hoping her pleasant smile masked her confusion and wariness.
“I believe so. I am Mrs. Emily Black,” the young woman introduced herself in a confident, steady tone. Her accent was clean, but there was something far more worldly about her carriage than a well-bred lady of her age should have possessed. If Caroline had to guess, the woman was in her early twenties—likely a few years younger than her.
Caroline inclined her head politely, still no less confused. The woman read this immediately and quickly pulled a card fromher reticule, adding, “My husband and I very recently became acquainted with Lord Swanleigh. I realize now this is likely inconvenient timing with your packing up house, but I wanted to personally deliver my congratulations on your recent nuptials. I read the news in this morning’s paper. You are the new Lady Swanleigh, are you not?”
Caroline examined the card only to discover that it was Gideon’s own, engraved with its familiar flourish. This woman could only have possessed it if he’d given it to her.
“I am, indeed, Lady Swanleigh,” Caroline answered, her mind turning over the possibility of this woman’s identity. Hadn’t she mentioned a husband? A recent acquaintance with Gideon?
Her heart skipped.
When she’d come to Swanleigh House to tell Gideon of her pregnancy, he’d been in such a dour mood…because he’d finally located his half brother after years of searching. Could this woman be the wife Gideon had mentioned?
“Your husband isn’t…that is, is he Lord Swanleigh’s…” She huffed, aggravated that she couldn’t spit out the words. “Are our husbands relations?”
A wave of relief washed over the other woman’s delicate features. “It seems that way. I was beginning to fear that you knew nothing of our existence and I just unleashed the secret.”
“Yes, I know!” Caroline said, then added in a lower tone so servants passing by wouldn’t overhear, “Please, do come in.” She didn’t give Mrs. Black an opportunity to demure before she took her hand and ushered her inside and through to the parlor, where they might speak more privately.
“It was not my intention to interrupt your packing,” the other woman said, seeming self-conscious for the first time. “I heard of your wedding and wished only to leave a congratulatoryletter.” She held out said letter, which Caroline accepted with aplomb.
