Love's Peril (Lord Trent Series) (22 page)

The prospects were too upsetting to consider.

For all intents and purposes, she was married. A woman with a husband—even a violent, drunken husband—couldn’t have sexual relations with strangers.

“Go away,”she firmly said.

“No.”

“If you don’t, I’ll scream.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be melodramatic.”

“I will. I mean it.”

He shrugged. “So scream. Who will rescue you? Hedley? Mildred?”

He closed her door, spun the key in the lock, and marched across the floor.

At his determined approach, she shrieked with dismay and raced from her sitting room, through her bedchamber and into the dressing room beyond. It was the scene of their prior indiscretion, so she was heading to the precise spot where she shouldn’t be.

“I hate you,”she fumed as she whirled around.

“You do not.”

“You made me tell on Sarah. You made me betray her.”

“
I
made you?”

“Yes.”

He frowned, then admitted, “I suppose I did.”

“I didn’t want Mr. Sinclair to take her to France.”

Tears surged into her eyes, and she swiped them away, but her distress didn’t deter him. He pressed her to the wall, grabbed her thighs and lifted her so her legs were wrapped around his waist. He shoved at the hem of her skirt, his privates crushed to hers.

“What will Mr. Sinclair do to her?”she asked.

“What do you think he’ll do?”

“He’ll ruin her.”

“Yes, but I imagine she’ll like it.”

“Spoken like a typical, vain male.”

“She’s too old to still be a virgin. She’ll be happy to have her chastity surrendered.”

“Not to him! It should be for her husband!”

“Why? So some bumbling oaf like
your
husband can make her miserable?”

She could hardly argue the point, and she muttered, “She’s too good for him.”

“Of course she is.”

“He’ll hurt her, he’ll—”

“He won’t hurt her. He’ll seduce her and use her kindly.”

“And then what?”

“I have no idea.”

“Will I ever see her again?”

“I have no idea about that either.”

“She was my friend. I can’t bear it that he’s taken her away.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to distract you so you’re not quite so lonely.”

He cupped her with his palm, ripping her drawers, shredding the fabric so he could slip two fingers inside her. He was rough and crude, as Archie had always been, but with Mr. Hook, she didn’t mind. His callous handling was exciting.

He was very strong, holding her to him as he pushed at the bodice of her dress, as he exposed her breasts. He dipped down and sucked on one, biting it, as his thumb flicked over the sensitive spot at the vee of her legs.

In an instant, she shattered with pleasure, but he didn’t let up. As she spiraled down, as she regained her composure, he’d somehow unbuttoned his trousers and impaled himself.

His rod was thick and solid, and he began to flex his hips. He was very aroused, the wildness of their coupling quickly spurring him to the end. He growled with satisfaction and emptied himself, spewing his seed into her womb, and for a brief second, she was anxious over the conclusion.

He didn’t appear to care if he got her into a jam. Nor had she counseled caution or urged restraint. He goaded her to recklessness. What if he’d impregnated her? How would she explain it?

But then, she remembered that she was barren. It was Archie’s interminable complaint over her failing as a wife. They had been wed for two grueling years, yet his seed had never caught. When no babe was created, everyone insisted it was the woman’s fault, and Caroline never ceased to fume over the indictment.

Why blame the wife? Why couldn’t people consider that it might have been Archie’s lack?

Mr. Hook smirked, delighted with how easy she was, how thoroughly corruptible. He drew away and guided her feet to the floor. They stood awkwardly, straightening their clothes.

“I won’t be at Bramble Bay for long,”he said, “so when I’m in the mood to fornicate, you shouldn’t refuse me.”

“I’m married.”

“Just barely.”

“I can’t be committing adultery whenever you walk by.”

“Why can’t you? Your husband hasn’t rushed to claim you. The man’s an idiot, and I won’t let him spoil our fun.”

“You’re putting me in so much danger.”

“How? I won’t tell anybody what we’re doing. Will you?”

“No.”

“You need a few good rides so you can learn what it’s like to fuck a real man.”

The vulgar term was like a slap in the face. It sounded sordid, driving home how little she knew about him, how wrong her conduct.

Her knees were weak, from the sexual act but also from nerves. She collapsed against the wall, using it as a crutch, using it for balance. She was ashamed, unable to look him in the eye.

“Would you go now?”she asked. “I’m just…just…”

She couldn’t describe what she was. He had an ability to inflame rash tendencies she hadn’t realized she possessed, and she wasn’t sorry for what they’d done. She
wanted
to feel guilty, but didn’t. Maybe that was the problem. She was suffering no remorse and was eager to misbehave again.

What sort of woman acted that way? What did it say about her true character?

“I should have sailed to France with John,”he told her.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I stayed because of you.”

“You can’t mean that.” Feebly, she repeated, “I’m married.”

“I don’t care. I’ll probably depart in a month, and I can’t say if I’ll ever return.”

“I might not see you again?” The notion was alarming.

“No, you might not. My line of work is hectic, and I never know my schedule or where I’ll be. So while I’m here, you will
not
hide from me.”

“No, I don’t suppose I will.”

“Would you be willing to move yourself into my bedchamber?”

She gasped with shock. “To live there openly?”

“Yes. We could be together all the time.”

The prospect was outrageous and scandalous, but riveting, too. “Mildred would never permit it.”

“It’s not Mildred’s house. It’s John’s, and he wouldn’t give two figs over how we carry on.”

She huffed out an astonished breath. “You make me forget myself, Mr. Hook.”

“Life is short, Caroline, and my employment hazardous. Who can guess what will happen? I try to seize the day whenever I can.”

“I never seize the day.”

“Perhaps you should.” He spun and strolled out.

She staggered to the sitting room and eased down in a chair. For a long while, she stared at the empty fireplace, reflecting on their budding affair, on what the future held.

In a month, Caroline had to leave Bramble Bay, as everyone else had to leave. Mildred claimed she would write to Archie, to send Caroline home where she belonged. But Caroline wouldn’t accept that ending.

If she confessed her dilemma with Archie, would Mr. Hook help her? Would he rescue her? And if she cast her lot with him, what new path would unfold? Could she bear to find out?

She pondered and fretted until a maid’s knock interrupted.

“What is it?”she called.

The girl peeked in. “Mrs. Teasdale needs you down in the front parlor.”

In light of Caroline’s disordered state—and the fact that she could smell Mr. Hook on her skin and clothes—Mildred was the very last person she wanted to see.

“Did she say why?”

“No—just that it’s important.”

Caroline knew Mildred well. The older woman wouldn’t be denied, so it was pointless to refuse.

She sighed. “Tell her I’ll be right down.”

* * * *

Raven stood in an unused bedchamber on the second floor. He was with two of the footmen, completing an inventory of the furnishings. When Hedley and Mildred left for good, he had to be certain he could account for all of John’s possessions.

He peered out the window and frowned. There was a small carriage in the drive, a single horse pulling it.

He didn’t like anyone to arrive without his being apprised, and the butler had strict instructions to inform him immediately as to any visitors. The idiotic man must have gone straight to Mildred—as if Mildred was still in charge—and it was an indicator of how he wouldn’t have a job much longer.

Raven motioned to one of the footmen, and the boy came over.

“Whose carriage is that?”

The boy studied it, scowled, then tentatively ventured, “Ah…I probably know.”

“Well?”

“It belongs to Mr. Patterson.”

“Caroline Patterson’s husband?”

“Yes.”

“Why would he be here?”

The boy glanced away. “I really couldn’t say, Mr. Hook.”

Raven stepped in, meaning to intimidate with his size, with his authority. “Why not?”

The other footman answered, “It’s a bad business, Mr. Hook. The housekeeper ordered the staff to stay out of it.”

Raven nodded, considering the disturbing comment.

“You two can go to the kitchen for tea. We’ll finish later.”

He walked out and went to the stairs, and he tiptoed to the landing, where he could see the foyer down below. The servants were conspicuously absent as if—whatever was occurring—they didn’t want to witness it.

Shortly, the parlor door opened. Mildred emerged, a man with her who had to be Mr. Patterson. He was forty or so, dressed in a fussy suit and carrying a cane. He was tall and lanky and balding, and Raven loathed him on sight.

“Thank you, Mildred,”Mr. Patterson said. “I appreciate your help.”

“You’re welcome,”Mildred replied. “She put me in such an awkward position.”

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.” He barked, “Caroline, come!”

There was a lengthy delay, and finally, Caroline appeared. She’d been crying. Her cheeks were red, her eyes moist. She nearly passed by Mildred without a word, but she thought better of it and halted.

“I can’t believe you betrayed me to him.”

“You belong with your husband, Caroline.”

“You tricked me into marrying him. You were aware of what he was like, and you talked me into it anyway. If he kills me, you won’t even care.”

Mr. Patterson was irked by the insult. “You will apologize to Mildred for imposing on her,”he scolded. “You’re lucky she took you in.”

“Sarah took me in, not
her
.” Caroline glowered at Mildred. “You always hated me. I wish Bernard was alive so he could see how you’ve ruined us.”

Mildred ignored her outrage. “Goodbye, Caroline. Please don’t come back. There’s no place for you here.”

“I’ll tell Sarah that you sent for him,”Caroline fumed, but Mildred recognized it was an empty threat.

“Archie is your husband. Sarah has no say in the matter.”

Mr. Patterson puffed himself up. “My wife will never bother you again, Mildred. I guarantee it.”

The remark was chilling. It rang off the rafters with ominous intent. He clutched Caroline’s arm, and though she dragged her feet, he simply hauled her off, his grip tight enough to bruise.

“Witch!”Caroline hurled at Mildred before her husband pulled her outside and she vanished from view.

Mildred stoically watched until the butler closed the door after them. Raven marched down the stairs, his boots pounding in an angry rhythm.

“Why is that man on the premises?”he demanded.

“Caroline is being evicted with the rest of us,”Mildred explained, “and I’m weary of her foolishness. It’s time for her to return home, and with the way she’s behaved, she’s fortunate her husband will take her back.”

She whipped away in a snit, and he stepped in her path to stop her.

“What?”she asked, glaring.

“Go up to your private quarters. Stay there until I permit you to come down again.”

“You have no authority over me.”

“In John Sinclair’s absence, I’m in charge.” He leaned in, letting his fury waft over her like a cloud. “Refuse to obey me at your peril, Mrs. Teasdale. Refuse to obey and see what happens.”

She hesitated, yearning to defy him, but she prudently relented.

“Barbarian,”she spat.

“Yes, I am,”he agreed, and he bellowed, “Now go!”

She flinched and scurried off like a scared rabbit. Then he stormed over to the butler, approaching until they were toe to toe.

“What were your instructions about visitors?”he hissed.

“Ah…that you were to be immediately informed.”

“Was I not clear? Were you confused by my edict?”

The man gulped with dismay, but didn’t respond.

“Wait for me in the library,”Raven seethed. “You’ll have to make a case as to why you shouldn’t be flogged, then fired.”

Raven hurried out and tromped down the grand stairs to the drive, where the horse’s ass, Archie Patterson, had actually bound Caroline’s wrists with a rope.

“How dare you shame me!” Patterson had the audacity to whack her with his cane. “How dare you hide yourself!”

He hit her a second time and a third. Caroline didn’t react. She appeared defeated, resigned to her fate.

“Haven’t I lectured you?”Patterson complained. “Haven’t I warned you where your stubborn attitude will lead?” He shouted, “Get in the carriage!”

Raven sauntered over, and Mr. Patterson was so incensed, he didn’t notice Raven. Raven tapped him on the shoulder.

“What is it?” Patterson whirled around. On observing Raven—a foot taller, a yard wider, all dressed in black—he blanched and weakly inquired, “May I help you?”

“Mr. Patterson, I presume?”Raven casually said.

“Yes.” He clicked his heels. “Archibald Patterson at your service.”

Raven looked at Caroline and asked, “Do you want to leave with him?”

She voiced the word
no
, but couldn’t speak it aloud.

Raven gestured to the house. “Go inside.”

Patterson stuck out his chest. “Now see here, I am her husband, and I’ve put up with enough of her nonsense. I won’t—”

Raven drew a pistol from his coat and stuck the barrel directly in the center of Patterson’s forehead. Patterson froze with stunned surprise. The whole world went still. Not a bird flew. Not a tree swayed in the wind.

“If you open your mouth again,”Raven murmured, “I will blow your head off.”