To Catch a Lady (17 page)

“That's not true.”

“Oh, but it is. When you go to society dances, when you see the young ladies being driven through Mayfair, do any of them look like me?”

Ash thought for a moment and realized she was right. “Then they are fools. You are a beauty, indeed. Your sister is one sort of woman and you are another.”

“You are kind to say so.”

“Believe me. It's not out of kindness but out of truth. Sometimes one tires of things society deems right and proper. And beautiful.”

She laughed then, a quiet chuckling that warmed him inside. “I wouldn't know about what society wants. But I thank you.”

“It was my aunt and uncle's guidance. They thought they were doing well by me, raising me under the tutelage of proper society, but they didn't know the cruelty that exists there—sharp tongues, insincerity, harsh words for those who don't conform. And while they never spoke directly to me or my cousin, I could hear their comments just the same. No. I was much happier here, in the forest.”

“It must have been hard on you. How old were you when your parents died?”

“I was eight years old. But I was never alone. My aunt and uncle took care of me. It was difficult, but there are others who have suffered far more than I did. I was fortunate in that my family was wealthy and my uncle titled.”

“Still, it must have been heartbreaking.”

“Any more than having your mother there beside you but not the same? How old were you when that happened?”

“Fourteen. Old enough to take on her responsibilities, I assure you.”

“You took your mother's place, then.”

“Yes. But I have no regrets. Mother couldn't help her condition, and we had our housekeeper as well.”

“Have you no other family?”

“I had an older cousin,” Caro said quietly.

“You did?”

“Yes, and he did come stay for a while. But he had to attend to business elsewhere.” Her voice quieted and Ash suspected that there was something that she didn't want to speak about as well.

“He abandoned you?”

He heard a catch in her breath and waited. “He had to leave.”

A few seconds passed and it was clear she wasn't going to say more about it.

“Well, I don't think much of him. Abandoning two young girls like that.”

“It wasn't that. We were glad he left. He tried to drain our accounts, and only my mother's former employer saved us from ruin.”

“Then you were fortunate in that, at least.”

“Yes, we were.”

“Then I'm glad that I have at least given you respite from worry over finances and caring for your family.”

“Indeed you have.” He heard her move again, this time closer to the door. He swore he could feel her touch upon the wood.

“Might I ask you a question?”

Ash touched the door, placing his hand where he thought she might be touching it on the other side.

“Of course you can.” He closed his eyes, waiting to hear her voice again, wanting to drink in the sound and feed the desire that was growing in him.

“If it weren't for your aunt, do you think you would have ever married?”

Ash let out a breath. “What sort of question is that?”

“A valid one, I think. You cast a lottery to choose your wife.” She took a breath. “I mean, any one woman could have done as well as another.”

“I chose you.”

“I'm not saying that you weren't kindhearted, that you didn't act out of chivalry. Just—if we hadn't been caught in that room, together…”

What the devil? “None of that matters. We are here, now, aren't we?”

Of course he hadn't wanted a wife, but he'd thought things had worked out well enough. Or they would, once they had a chance to really be together.

“Yes,” she replied.

Ash paused. He hadn't heard the quiet sigh, or the sad tone to her voice.

Or, at least that's what he told himself. Unfortunately, it would take a bit more convincing for him to believe it.

It was as she'd thought. She meant no more to him than any other woman at the ball that night.

It was a bitter pill to swallow, but Caro knew it was the truth and there was no sense in fooling herself about it.

“It's all right,” she told him. “I don't blame you.” And Caro knew better than anyone that if there were no feelings inside a person, they could not be forced.

“I know you must think me a terrible person,” Ash said. “And, perhaps I am. But I will not play you false, Caroline. I will be honest with you, I promise. In return, I just ask the same from you.”

Caro smiled. “I think I can manage that.” It was no great love affair, true enough. There would be no heartfelt sonnets or songs of love. But there would be honesty, and she could live with that.

“Perhaps we should open the door,” she offered.

“We could, but I'm rather tired and I need a night to compose myself.”

“All right. Tomorrow, then?”

“There is something I'd like to ask you.”

“Yes?”

“Do you mind taking our trip to the lake tomorrow? I would understand if you chose not to go. I don't want you to feel pressured into going.”

He heard her sigh. “My mother used to take Beatrice and me to Hyde Park. We'd have a feast in the sunshine. Spend the day playing. It was such a delight.”

“Then let me help you return to that time, even if only for a little while.”

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

Touching and yet not touched…

For a moment, Caro closed her eyes and remembered Ash the night before. When he'd stood in the pool, his body taut with desire, his every breath seeming to call out to her. And now, seated but inches from him, her body answered in kind.

Her arousal hit her so quickly, Caro felt as if she were going to burst into flames. Gasping, she closed her eyes and touched her breasts. Images of him caressing her, kissing her, flashed into her mind. How was it she could not love him and yet desire him so much?

“I suppose we should go to bed now. I know you must be so tired.”

Caro could hear the strain in his voice and almost feel the heat of his arousal simmering outside the door.

She cleared her throat. “I am, but not so much that I can't stay awake a little longer.”

He let out a slow breath. The hissing sound sent a shiver through her.

“What would you like to talk about?”

“I, uh, don't know.” Caro paused. She very well did know. It was time for truth between them. She licked her dry lips before speaking. “I was just remembering, um, last night.”

“Really?”

She could hear the cocky smile in his voice. Damn him. If he guessed what she'd just been thinking…

“Caroline.”

“Yes?”

“Why don't you get into bed? I'll stay here and just talk.”

Caro licked her lips. “Just talk?”

“Just talk.” He paused for a moment, his next words barely above a whisper. “Like yesterday.”

Scrambling to her feet, Caro rushed to her bed and pulled back the quilts.

“Wait! I'm still dressed.” Without hesitation, she grabbed the hem of her shift and pulled it up over her head. It took some wiggling, but after a few moments, she had it off.

“Do you need me to call for help?”

“Um, no, it's all right.” She hadn't let Meggie talk her into wearing a corset, knowing that she might need to undress herself. In seconds she was standing nude.

Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly. Just like the time before, she felt strange, dangerous. Free.

“Before you lie down, turn around. All the way around.”

“Very well,” she breathed. That was when she saw it. The keyhole.

Her mouth went dry.

He could see her?

“Oh…” he moaned outside the door. “Now, bend over the bed for me.”

She should have been shocked. She should have covered herself in shame. Instead, excitement coursed through her. If her husband didn't look away from her in horror, then perhaps she wasn't ugly after all.

“Caroline?” There was an urgency in his tone that struck right through her.

Of course, she realized. The room was dim. Likely he didn't see her scar.

Closing her eyes, she tamped down on the memory. That last evening, when she'd gone to her cousin's room and begged him to return the money he'd stolen.

“Please, Alfred!”

He opened the door a wedge and gazed out at her. His eyes were burning, and his face was red. She could smell the whiskey on his breath.

“Well, well. You've come begging, have you?”

With that, he reached through the door and grabbed her arm, dragging her into his room. Without saying a word, he tore her bodice and pushed her up against the wall.

“Please, Alfred! You're hurting me!”

But he didn't hear her cries. He was mad with drink, cursing and tearing at her. Desperate to escape from him, she jerked away but lost her footing at the last minute. She didn't see the fireplace poker balanced on the hearth, and when she hit it, the burning coal flew upward and landed on her belly. It burned right through her gown.

And though her injury had long healed, the pain of it still burned within her. She was forever shamed. Forever marked.

So many years she'd felt safe with only two people knowing of the wretched thing: her mother and the beast who'd marked her. One no longer had a memory and the other had not darkened their door for years. Until now, her shame had been hidden. And so it would remain—until her husband really saw her.

Well, there was a chance he might never see it. If she wore her shift always and if they made love in the dark, how would he know?

Smiling, she did as he asked and bent over the bed. The quilt was soft beneath her, and, closing her eyes, she imagined him there behind her.

“Oh, Caroline,” he said, his voice cracking as he spoke. “You are beautiful.”

His words caressed her, teased her, and stoked the flames of her desire. Caro sighed, the sound hissing into the silence.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “For everything.”

Closing her eyes, she waited for his next words.

They never came.

Ash couldn't help it. He couldn't stand there and watch her as he had before and not touch her. It was an impossible situation. Every bit of his being ached to be with her. He placed his hand on the glass doorknob, squeezing it so hard he was sure it would shatter at any second.

But he couldn't do it. He couldn't burst in and ravage her as his body demanded he do. He couldn't stand to be so close to her and not caress every inch of her, not kiss her, not spread her out on the bed and have his damned way with her.

His groin jumped at the very thought.

So, coward that he was, he released the knob and turned away. He was a scoundrel, a blackguard, a bastard—every foul name he could think of. But for all that, he couldn't force himself on her.

“I came very close,” he told Duncan an hour later as they sat in his study. “Very close to breaking down that damn door and forcing myself on her.” He took another long drink of the brandy.

Thus far he'd drunk over half the bottle and his friend was still on his first glass.

“You're married. You've already said she desires you. Isn't that enough? Can't you march upstairs right now and tell her how you feel? She's your wife, after all.”

“Should I break down the door like some savage beast?”

“Explain yourself. And when she lets you in, be gentle with her, old man. Women like us to be gentle.”

“Gentle?” Ash choked. “That's the problem. I have no damn control. I did in the beginning, mind you. Oh, yes, I was so stern and self-righteous. But now, when I'm around her, I revert to some sort of animal. She's vexed me like no woman ever has.”

“That's ridiculous. An animal? You're no such thing. You forget, I've seen you in battle, half dead from lack of food and water. You have never been less than a gentleman.”

“But you've never seen me married. This ownership of another—I find it distasteful, and yet whenever I look at her, or even think of her, I can't help thinking that she's mine. She belongs to me and I want…” He paused.

“You want to make love to your wife, man. That's all. You're no different from any of the rest of us.” Duncan laughed. “Face it, Ash. You're in love.”

“I am not. And my wife doesn't love me.”

“You don't know that. Perhaps she's just shy. Give her a chance.”

Ash sat back in his chair. “I was a bastard for thinking I could take a wife the way the way a farmer chooses livestock.”

“So you made a mistake. Men make mistakes all the time. She did come to your ball and she did submit her calling card. The woman obviously thought she had some small chance of being chosen, didn't she?”

“You're saying that she bears some of the responsibility for this mess?”

“You're saying she doesn't?”

It took a few moments for Ash to see his friend's point. Sitting there, staring at the bottom of his now empty brandy glass, he'd realized a few things. First, that if blame were to be doled out, then he and Caro both likely had their fair share.

Ash could live with that. But he had to take responsibility for the scheme in the first place. She was only trying to get her family out of a bad situation, and he could not hold her to task for that.

Finally, he knew he had to be the gentleman. They were married. They were stuck together. He would simply have to wait until she was ready to receive him. No matter how long it took.

“You drink too much.” Duncan set his own empty glass on the table.

“It's been months since I've even uncorked a bottle of wine, and here I've finished two bottles of brandy in three nights.” Ash set the glass gingerly on the table. “No more. Lord Fortune's Folly must be dealt with.”

“Then—you'll be all right?” Duncan asked.

Ash gave him a careful expression. “Afraid I'll do as my father and attempt to swallow the end of my rifle?”

Duncan laughed. “I know you better than that. You tend to be far more creative than your sire.”

“I should bloody well hope so.” Ash sighed. “If only my wife could come to understand that.”

“Give her time, lad. You've been married less than a week.”

Furious, Caro paced the bedroom. How could he abandon her like that? One moment she was lying there, waiting for him to seduce her, and the next, he was gone. It had been a terrible disappointment.

Yet, she wondered, had he really meant to humiliate her? Whether or not he did, that was the end result.

The right thing for her to do was give him the benefit of the doubt. So, making up her mind that she would give him a chance to explain himself, she pulled on her shift and her robe. Once she was dressed, she crept out into the hall and went to his room. Waiting a full five minutes before opening the door, she peered into the darkness. Of course, if he'd been overcome by brandy, he would likely have stumbled to his bed and fallen asleep.

But, as she found out when she tiptoed into his room, he was nowhere to be seen.

Gone.

“Bloody hell,” she spat. Of course, it wasn't ladylike to speak that way, but she'd waited there the longest time with her bare arse in the air, so it really wasn't the time for her to be concerned about her behavior, now was it?

“Your Grace?” Meggie called into the room from the hall.

Caro spun around. “Meggie? I'm sorry if I awakened you.”

“It's all right, Your Grace. I was awake already. Is there something I can do for you?”

“No, thank you. I'm just restless tonight. It's nothing. Go back to bed.”

“Yes, milady.” Meggie curtsied, and then pulled the door closed behind her.

Letting out a deep breath, Caro sat on her husband's bed. For a brief moment, she thought she'd been discovered. And while she wanted nothing more than to rage at her husband, she didn't want to be caught unawares by him. He was a clever fox, and she needed all of her wits if she was to be any match against him.

“Very well,” she told the empty room. “Until tomorrow.” With that she rose and went back to her room.

In the morning, after a few hours of sleep, she'd pay him back for his discourteousness, see if she didn't.

Dawn was cresting when Ash made his way back to his room. He wanted more than anything to put together a pack and go out into the woods until he'd managed to puzzle things out. But only a coward would leave his wife for the second time in one night. While he didn't have many thoughts about his bravery, he knew that he must eventually face Caro, explain himself, and beg her forgiveness.

Though his head was buzzing and his limbs were moving slowly, he finally reached his chamber. Doing his best not to arouse the household for a second time, he gingerly turned his doorknob and entered his room.

Shock went through him, for when he took a breath, he thought for a moment that Caro was in the room. Looking around, he saw that she wasn't, but her lingering scent told him she'd been there recently. He saw that the quilts on his bed were wrinkled. Walking slowly, he approached the bed.

Of course she wouldn't be there. He'd been a brute and had frightened her off. Lying down, he suddenly couldn't fight the fatigue that washed over him.

“Ah, Caro,” he muttered into the blankets. Closing his eyes, he imagined her beside him in the bed, in his arms.

But that's where his dream ended. After what he'd done to her that night, he'd be lucky if she ever gave him favor again.

Sighing, he rolled over and swore.

It was going to be a very long morning, indeed.