The Price of Desire (20 page)

Caroline was still shaking well after they had left the group behind. He wanted to kill Thackeray, the stupid sot, and the rest of the drunken crew, for daring to make so free with her. She was a lady through and through and she deserved none of their familiarities, or Bartles’s veiled insults.

He breathed deeply, containing his anger, not wanting to make Caroline feel any more uncomfortable than she already was. “I apologize on behalf of my friends,” he said tightly. “They were insufferably rude.”

“It doesn’t matter. They did not mean any harm.”

He would not allow her to brush their behavior under the carpet. “They insulted you.”

“What did they say that I did not deserve?” She shrugged, but her voice was tight with anger. “I am not a lady, Dominic. I am your mistress, as Mr. Bartles made so clear he knew. They owe me no more politeness than they would owe a common whore.”

“It would be easier for you if you were not with me.”

“I do not regret the choices I have made, Dominic. Neither did I mean to imply that I was in any way unhappy with our bargain. Escaping the workhouse was worth a lifetime’s worth of such petty insults. From most people they would not bother me.” She hesitated. “It is just when I meet with people such as Mr. Thackeray and Mr. Bartles—respectable people who knew my father in happier times, who six months ago would have treated me with the respect they reserve for their own wives and daughters—I still find it…difficult.”

They walked in silence for a while. Dominic’s conscience troubled him. He had not truly realized before that his protection would not be sufficient to save Caroline from the insults of small-minded and pompous little fools like Bartles. Or that Bartles would take such malicious and ill-bred delight in causing her embarrassment.

Most of all he had not realized that Caroline would care so much for the strictures of a society that had abandoned her to a lingering death in the workhouse. “Do you not see any of your old friends anymore?” he asked.

“None of them.”

“I had thought you would be out visiting your old acquaintances while I am at work in the City.”

“I do not have anyone to visit. None of my previous acquaintances would welcome me into their houses. I would not embarrass them by calling on them uninvited.”

Had it been him, he would have faced them all down and dared them to think what they liked, but it was different for a woman like Caroline, he supposed. In becoming his mistress, she had forever put herself beyond the pale of her former society. Until this moment he had not realized just how much. He may have saved her from starvation, but in doing so he had cut her off from all her former friends. And thinking about starvation, he realized that it was long past their usual hour for luncheon. He wasn’t doing such a good job at saving her from starvation today, either. “Are you hungry?”

“Famished,” she admitted. “Walking by the seaside has given me an appetite.”

“We could find a nice seafood restaurant, or we could eat fish and chips on the pier. What do you fancy?”

“It seems a shame to waste the sunshine.” Her smile had lost most of its strain. “Let’s have fish and chips on the pier.”

Ten minutes later, each of them carrying a bundle of steaming fish and chips wrapped in paper, they meandered over to a park bench with a pleasant view of the sea. Caroline plucked out a fragrant chip and popped it into her mouth. “I’m not sure why, but food always tastes better if you eat it with your fingers.”

He had to agree with her. The fish was fresh and melted in his mouth, and the chips were crispy and golden. They sat quietly in the sunshine, eating their way through their lunch.

When the fish and chips were gone, they continued to walk, lazily now that they were full of food.

An itinerant photographer was peddling his wares on the sand, touting his skill and the technical wonders of his camera, invented in the Americas and able to produce a finished photograph within mere moments.

Dominic quickened his pace. “I want a photograph of you.” He wanted to capture this day forever in an image that would carry these precious memories with it. A cheap tintype image, it may be, but an image that lovers everywhere had taken by the seaside.

Spotting a likely customer heading in his direction, the traveling salesman, a short balding man in a waistcoat of violent yellow, bent all his eloquence on the pair of them. “You’ll be wanting a portrait now, will you? A picture of the two of you together, perhaps?” He gave them a knowing wink. “I won’t take more than a moment, and I’ll have a picture for you to take home with you and treasure for the rest of your days.”

Dominic seated Caroline on the beach chair set out for the purpose and stood back. “A photograph of Mrs. Clemens, if you please.”

“You won’t regret, sir, I can promise you that. I’ve got the finest quality camera this side of the Atlantic, and it takes the sharpest, most true-to-life pictures you ever saw. You won’t find another one in Torquay like it.”

Caroline arranged her skirts around her, a slight frown on her face. The sunlight glinted off her hair, making the soft brown gleam with a golden sheen. Her hands were clasped tightly together in her lap and her back was stiff.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” the salesman said, adjusting his equipment. “It doesn’t hurt a bit. You won’t feel a thing. Now, give your husband a pretty smile.”

A tremulous smile crossed her face, but it did not reach her eyes.

“Excellent. Now hold still.” With a practiced motion, he slid a panel on his contraption sideways. “There, that’s it. That looked not too bad, if I say so myself. You’re very wise to get your photograph taken in the autumn like this, rather than in the harsh light of summer. The light is quite perfect for photography at this time of year. I shall have a photograph fit for the Queen herself in just a few moments.”

With hardly an interruption to his patter, he produced a thin sheet of metal with Caroline’s likeness captured on it. “See, look at that quality. You won’t find many as good as that, no siree. And what a pretty likeness it is, too. A lovely picture like that and just two shillings to take it away with you. A bargain, sir, a bargain, and it would be at twice the price.”

Dominic handed him a couple of shillings and took the picture. Superficially the photograph had captured her likeness well enough, but it had missed the sparkle in her eyes and the lightness of her step. It had drawn only the outward show, and missed everything that was quintessentially Caroline.

Still, he tucked it away into its case with care. If he were to be fair, no photograph in the world could ever capture what he saw in Caroline, her strength and her courage.

“And how about a picture of you, sir, for the lady?” the salesman continued. “Surely the lady would like a keepsake of this outing the same as you would.” He turned to Caroline with entreaty. “Only two shillings for a lovely picture for you to keep next to your heart. Surely your husband wouldn’t deny you such a simple pleasure.”

She put her hand up to ward off his entreaties. “I do not need a photograph. Not when I have his face in front of me to look at every day.”

The salesman turned back to him. “No picture for your wife? For shame, sir. What will keep her company on those long, lonely nights when you are away on business if she doesn’t have a likeness of you to prop up beside her bed?”

He was about to shake his head and move on when he caught a glimpse of the look of naked longing in Caroline’s eyes. For whatever reason, she wanted a tintype of him and she wanted it very badly indeed. He could see her desire in her eyes, though she hadn’t uttered a word.

He seated himself on the chair she had just vacated, only just managing to suppress his smile. She must have some softer feelings for him, or she would not want a picture of him. For all her serenity, she had feelings hidden deep inside her that sometimes had to bubble to the surface.

His photograph once taken, he handed it to her with a smile. “A small memento of Torquay.”

She accepted it graciously, in the spirit in which it was given.

Only because he was watching her closely did he notice the care with which she tucked it away into her reticule.

He took her arm again with a feeling of triumph. His tactics were working. Caroline was his. All his.

Though she might fight against it, he would make her admit the truth. He was more than her master, her protector, the man who bought her clothes and jewelry and provided the house for her to live in. He was more than her bed partner at night, more than the man who made her cry out in ecstasy with his skillful fingers and tongue.

With that one glimpse into her soul, he knew the truth. He was her lover, her soul mate, the other half of her.

It was dark by the time they reached Sugar and Spice once again. Dominic handed Caroline out of the carriage, the tintype, carefully wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, under his arm.

Mrs. Bertram met them just inside the door and handed him a telegram tucked into an envelope. “This came for you this afternoon. The boy had been instructed to stay for an answer, but he left again when I told him you were out for the day. I promised I would pass it to you as soon as you arrived home.”

With a brief nod of thanks, he took the envelope and stuck it into his waistcoat pocket without opening it. There would be time enough for business in the morning. Tonight belonged to him, and to Caroline.

“You must be weary after your long journey,” Mrs. Bertram said as she ushered them up the stairs. “I will have some supper brought to your room as soon as may be.”

Once alone in their bedroom, Caroline embraced Dominic with tenderness he had not experienced from her before. Her embrace was gentle, the rubbing of her hands over his back questing, as if she was discovering him for the first time. Tilting her head up, she kissed him full on the mouth. “I had a lovely day today,” she said as she broke away once again, her hands moving to his chest to unbutton his jacket and shirt. “Thank you for the excursion.”

He gasped in pleasure as she ran her hands over his chest, her fingernails raking his sensitive nipples. It was definitely time to get naked with her, as he had thought about doing all day.

Breaking their embrace, he removed his jacket and shirt, followed by his shoes and socks. He paused for a moment to watch as Caroline followed his lead, removing her dress as quickly as she could, then starting on her undergarments.

She glanced at him, a mischievous look in her eye as she dragged her chemise over her head. “Race you.”

“Is that a challenge?”

She tossed her stockings on the floor. “Winner gets a kiss.”

One of Caroline’s kisses was a prize worth having. Intent on winning, he hopped around on one leg while pulling off his trousers, nearly falling disastrously into the fireplace in his haste. The poker and tongs fell with a clatter onto the hearth, sending a puff of soot into the air.

Giggling at his curses, Caroline flung off the last of her clothes, losing the competition by a pair of pantaloons.

Naked at last, he pulled her on top of him onto the bed. “So, how about my kiss, then?”

Their kiss was just starting to heat up when there was a knock at the door and a voice called out to them from the hallway. “Your supper is here.”

With a mad dash, they scrambled under the covers and pulled them up to their chins. As the door opened, Caroline ducked right under the blankets.

A maid entered, a tray in her hands. “Cold meats and a pot of tea, sir.”

Just then he felt a warm mouth engulf his cock. “Just on the sideboard, please,” he said, covering up his choke of surprise with a fake cough.

The maid put the tray on the sideboard and stepped back, dusting her hands together. “Is there anything else I can get for you, sir?”

“No, nothing, thank you.”

Still, she seemed in a mood to linger. “Did you have a nice day, sir?”

Under the blankets Caroline continued pleasuring his cock, massaging his balls while running her tongue around the head. “Very nice,” he replied, his breath in his throat. Whether he was referring to the day they had spent by the seaside or the warmth of Caroline’s mouth on his cock, he could not have said.

“Torquay, wasn’t it?”

Before he could answer, he felt Caroline take his cock in her hand and rub vigorously up and down, bringing him close to orgasm as he tried to frame his answer. “Yes. Torquay…nice weather…Punch and Judy…” was the best he could muster as Caroline pumped his cock hard and fast.

The maid’s eyes lit up. “Ah, Punch and Judy. I love them shows. Can’t recall the last time I saw one.”

Mercifully, Caroline had stopped the exquisite torture of her hand at his cock and was now merely licking lightly up and down his hard shaft.

“Thank you for the supper,” he said, finally managing to get out a coherent sentence. “I shall be sure to ring if I need anything else.”

Taking the hint, the maid at last left.

As soon as the door closed behind her, he flung back the covers to reveal a smug-looking Caroline curled up on the sheets. “You’ll be sorry you did that, young lady!”

With that he pinned her down with his weight, tickling her until he was concerned her shrieks would bring company again. “Do you surrender?”

“No!”

“Then it will have to be punishment of a different kind.” Releasing his weight from her, he sat up and spread her legs, then slid down her body to tease the top of her wet pussy with his tongue, lapping lightly at the nub of her clit. That brought cries of a different kind as he gently eased two fingers into her cunt, rubbing upward to her sensitive place.

Softly, he heard, “I surrender.”

With her acquiescence, he stopped teasing her pussy and slid back up her body, kissing as he went. Finally he reached her mouth, his tongue questing as she opened to him.

He shifted his weight and slid his cock easily into her cunt, her hips raised to meet his thrusts, her pleasure heightened with the pressure on her clit.

With his cock deep inside her, he looked into her eyes as he continued a slow rhythm. Her gaze met his, and their world shrunk until there was nothing but the two of them. Their breathing matched their rhythm as the climax built. Just before they both reached their peak he came to a stop, his breath slowing as he continued to gaze into her eyes.