His Shadowed Heart ((Books We Love Regency Romance)) (14 page)

Impervious of the stares of disbelief that Dent’s words had generated, the earl turned abruptly. Gripping his arm above the elbow, his fingers bit painfully into the flesh as he propelled him toward the hallway.

“I ought to have recognized your hand in the affair, Dent,” he seethed through clenched teeth as they achieved the deserted hallway. “I know you bear me no more love than I you, but I will not allow that you should attempt to turn your malice upon my wife. She is an innocent party to our never-ending dispute.” His grip tightened until Dent could bear the pain of his fingers no longer and attempted to free himself, regardless of the curious gaze of a passing servant.

“Her Ladyship was not informed at my instigation,” he cried, attempting to prize the earl’s fingers from his arm, but he had not the strength and instead felt his knees begin to weaken.

Seeing the paleness of his countenance the earl smiled cruelly, relenting his hold only slightly, determined that he should find the truth of the matter. “At whose instigation was she informed if not yours? You may as well tell me sooner rather than later, for I assure you, I will not leave go until I know the truth.”

“Massey’s,” was the weak reply.

The earl released his hold immediately, throwing aside Dent’s arm as if it was something distasteful. “Why should he bear me malice?” he asked in some surprise.

“I don’t know,” replied Dent, holding his arm and flexing his fingers as the blood once more began to flow. “He does not make me privy to his motives.”

Turning abruptly, the earl returned to the card room and thence to the adjoining salons but he was unable to find Lord Massey amongst the company and upon asking his whereabouts of a mutual acquaintance was informed that
His Lordship had left the party.

*****

“You will be delighted to know that I intend to leave for Lordings on the morrow,” informed the earl, as he and Lady Victoria entered the coach at the end of the evening.

“At last, you see sense,” she approved, adjusting her cloak as the night air proved chill.

“You were right,” he replied in return. “I have been too long without my wife’s company. No doubt the House will reach whatever decisions it may, regardless of my attendance. I am needed elsewhere—I will not neglect my wife.”

Her Ladyship
raised her gaze sharply, attempting to read his countenance in the shadowed interior. “All is well with Caroline?” she asked abruptly.

“I can assure you, all is well,” replied the earl, smiling meaningfully. “I but return to my wife.”

Much pleased with his reply, Lady Victoria, gave a contented sigh and settled herself back into the corner.

Chapter
Eight

In the extended absence of her husband, Caroline had settled into a daily routine of dividing her time between Julia and Peter. Julia had quickly come to accept her. Having never known her original mother, there were no comparisons to be made and she blossomed under Caroline’s influence, as did Peter. He was much changed from the ruffian who had first come to Lordings, and under her tutelage now appeared well-groomed. In an attempt to better himself and prove himself worthy of her attention, he asked her to teach him to read and write, a task that she performed with enthusiasm, not knowing the origins of his desire.

“Who knows what you will be able to achieve,” she enthused, as they sat over their books late in the afternoon. “Indeed, I will speak to my husband in the hopes that he will find a situation for you. I hadn’t thought you would prove such an adept pupil. I am sure something could be found that would suit.”

Reddening beneath her praise, Peter exerted even more effort by attempting a few lines from one of Byron’s poems, both being highly amused by his errors, even Dog adding his tones to their laughter.

“I think you have missed your calling,” laughed Caroline. “It would seem you are more suited to the stage. What a fine actor you would make. With Dog at your side of course.”

Peter grinned. “A fine jester more like,” he said, with a flourish of his arm. “A jester and his dog. What a couple we would make.”

“The ladies would adore you,” she laughed in return. “You would break hearts.”

Suddenly serious, Peter reached out across the table and placed his hand over hers as it rested there. “Caroline….” he began in a cajoling tone, but immediately she came to her feet, almost upsetting her chair in her haste.

“I must go to the nursery,” she stated hurriedly
, “I must not neglect Julia,” and she was gone from the room, leaving him to reflect on the imprudence of his action and to curse himself for being a fool.

She had correctly interpreted his intent and she had no wish for it. She felt a friendship for him, indeed, a companionship, but she wished nothing more, no avowals of devotion or declarations of love. Her heart forever remained with her husband. She began to recognize the dangers of continuing her support, but in her innocence, believed Peter would soon tire of the infatuation.

Retiring to her apartment, she decided to channel her thoughts into writing a letter to the earl, and to this end, she went to her escritoire and took down paper and pen, finding in the composition of the missive some release for the longing she felt for his presence.

Once the letter was completed, and seeing that it needed almost two hours to suppertime, she decided to change into her silk wrap and try to read a little as she still found her thoughts were wont to wander to a certain house in London. Reposing on the burgundy velvet chaise, her eyelids started to fall, and within a few moments she had drifted into sleep.

*****

It was thus that she did not witness the opening of her chamber door or the tall figure that stood within its portals.

Seeing his wife to be asleep, the earl closed the door noiselessly behind him and, drawing off his driving gloves, came across the room, his boots making no sound on the thick-piled carpet. He stood for a moment looking at her sleeping form, marveling at the picture she presented in her slumber with her cheek resting on one delicate hand and her tumbled curls framing her sweet face. He knew a desire to catch her to him and waken her with kisses but he resisted the impulse, instead contenting himself with his contemplation.

As if by design, a clock on the mantle struck the hour, invading her repose, and she stirred and opened drowsy eyes, which immediately fell on him and widened in astonishment at finding him there.

He smiled down at her. “I’m sorry, did my presence startle you Caro?”

“Richard,” she cried, and was on her feet immediately to throw herself into his arms, laughing and crying at the same time.

He held her close, his eyes, full of tenderness, devouring her glowing countenance. “I had to come, sweetheart. I could stand it no longer without my wife. If I had but known the reception I would receive, I would have returned earlier—much earlier. Now kiss me, foreswear I have been without you far too long.” And, holding her even closer, he crushed his lips down onto hers. Deepening the kiss, he allowed all the longing and love he had held in check for so long to overtake him. Knowing he need guard his heart no longer, welcoming his wife’s response, he poured his soul into the embrace.

“Can you forgive my foolishness?” he asked when finally they drew apart, almost as if there had been no interval between their last meeting. “When I asked you to marry me, I thought I would be content with you as my companion. Indeed, I looked for nothing more than someone to alleviate my loneliness. I had not been prepared for the emotions you would evoke in me. How, despite my conviction that I was incapable of love, you would make me love you. Now I desire your love in return—a wife’s love. Is that too much to ask? Is the thought alien to you? Could you love me?”

In answer, Caroline lifted her hands to frame his face, and with tears in her eyes, stood on tiptoe to tenderly press her lips to his. “Had you but known it, you have always had my love,” she replied. “I never dared hope you would love me in return. Though I knew my own heart, I convinced myself that I would be content just to share your life. Even now, I cannot believe it possible.”

He found it necessary, so very necessary, to assure her of his eternal devotion
, and my lady’s maid, quietly entering the room a short while later, beheld her mistress locked in a crushing embrace and hastily stepped back into the corridor.

Their lovemaking achieved heights that only passion long
-denied could achieve, and held delights that neither had known possible. No barriers to happiness existed and no longer would there be closed doors between them or talk of separate lives. With their new closeness, their whole existence took on new meaning.

Supper became a late and most intimate affair, the earl ordering it served in his wife’s sitting room, which connected to her bedchamber through her dressing room. If the couple were less formally attired than was their usual wont, who was there to comment. Instead of his usual impeccable evening attire, the earl wore a black silk dressing robe carelessly knotted over black pantaloons whilst his wife, her hair unbound and flowing about her shoulders, wore a most becoming negligee of cream satin, overlaid with Brussels lace.

Once the meal was over, they retired no further than the burgundy velvet chaise that was drawn invitingly before the glowing hearth. Caroline, with head resting against her husband’s shoulder, his arm encircling her, sighed her contentment and nestled closer. “I still can’t believe you love me,” she said, listening to the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear.

“It is something you can and must believe,” he said earnestly as he held her away from him, searching her face, a face that had become infinitely dear.

“How could I with Elizabeth’s influence so fresh in your mind….”

He captured her hand and pressed his lips tenderly to her palm. “Elizabeth need never concern you again, she is gone, forgotten! I know, by my feelings for you now, that whatever I felt for her was never love, merely a momentary infatuation. Do you believe me?”

Moving once more into his embrace, she snuggled against his chest. “Whatever you tell me I will believe, my love. I have seen your torment and my only wish has been to alleviate it. You must know I love you, Richard.”

“A fact I shall need you to assure me of frequently, sweetheart,” he teased, jubilant in his triumph. “I never believed my life could be so changed. Victoria accuses me of continually frowning, but there will be no need for frowns now. I have my new wife to keep me in check and I will not be allowed to be morose. Indeed, there will be no occasion to be downcast when I shall have your love.”

“I will remind you of that when you find me tiresome and wish me elsewhere,” she teased. “I am no paragon, as you must know, and surely there will be times when my company becomes irksome.”

“I can promise you that I will find you neither tiresome nor irksome,” he said, punctuating each word with a kiss, his lips feathering a slow course from brow to lips. “My penchant for my wife’s company will be remarked upon.”

“I am trying to be serious,” complained Caroline, a twinkle in her eyes. “But how can I convince you of my love when you will insist on diverting me from my purpose?”

He found it imperative to catch her to him once more. “Do I divert you from your purpose, sweetheart?” he asked with a seriousness that belied his words, his amused gaze turning to something far more intense.

“Most certainly. You always will,” she replied, raising her face to receive his caress.

*****

To the servant’s confusion, the earl and his wife breakfasted uncharacteristically late the following morning and lingered in the small salon long after the covers had been removed. Their mood was exceedingly light with smiles and teasing much in evidence, something never before witnessed at Lordings. Even the autumn sun played its part and streamed through the tall casements that lit the room, bathing all in its golden light.

Eventually, the earl asked his wife to tell him of her protégé.

“There is little to tell,” she replied openly, “but that I am teaching him to read and write. Oh yes, and he has a dog named Dog.”

“Very original,” he said, smiling, “and how long is the boy to remain?”

“I was hoping you might find employment for him.”

The earl raised an indulgent brow. “As what? Stable boy? Kitchen lad? What exactly did you have in mind?”

“He is quite bright,” replied Caroline eagerly. “I had hoped for something better than that. Perhaps something in the estate office. He could help your agent.”

“I applaud your enthusiasm for his ability, my love,” he said, smiling at her keenness.
“If he is as bright as you say, and it is your wish that he should remain on the estate, then we shall see what can be found. I’m sure something suitable will present itself.”

Watching from beneath lowered lashes, hardly daring to hear his answer, she asked with more than idle curiosity, “When do you return to London?”

“Whenever I return, so shall you, Caro,” he said extending his hand across the table. “We will not be separated again. I will not allow it. Your company is too precious to me. My presence at Whitehall is not so necessary at the moment that I need be forever in attendance, so we remain at Lordings as long as is possible.”