Page 42 of The Secret Love of a Gentleman (The Marlow Family Secrets #3)

Rob had slept restlessly. When he had said he could not join his friends at Manton’s today, they had teased him, speculating on his increasing number of absences.

‘Is it a woman?’ Tarquin had accused. ‘It is the only reason I imagine you might be drawn into ballrooms and drawing rooms.’

‘It is not,’ Rob had denied. But perhaps a blush gave the truth away because his friends captured the theme.

‘I think it is,’ Arthur agreed.

‘Who is it?’ Stephen asked.

‘No one. There is no woman.’ Thank God he had been in Brooks’s and not White’s, where someone within his family might have heard.

‘I think he is lying,’ Patrick had teased. ‘You should be careful of this political reputation you wish to build, if you are consorting with women.’

‘I will only face such a stupid rumour if any of you spread it.’ He had lost his temper, something that was even rarer than him attending balls, and had only served to make his friends more suspicious .

‘Then he will take us down to Manton’s shooting range and use us as targets.’ Tarquin had laughed.

‘I, for one, do not accept your denials, Rob.’ Thomas had thrown in his tuppence worth.

Rob had never lied until he began this thing with Caro.

Memories of the two times he had lain with her whispered in his head as he steered his horses through the busy, damp and chilly London streets, with the collar of his greatcoat turned up to protect the back of his neck from the rain.

His morals had deserted him; he had sinned with her in the summer and he wished to commit sin with her again.

He left his horses in the care of John’s grooms, and climbed the steps as Finch opened the door of John’s town house.

He would be alone with Caro today, he hoped, and he hoped they would have an opportunity to share a bed again. He intended taking her to his rooms.

‘Master Marlow.’ Finch bowed as Rob walked in.

‘Is anyone home?’

‘The Duke is to be left undisturbed in the library, sir, and Lord Framlington is out. However, the Duchess and Lady Framlington are in the drawing room.’

Rob presumed Caro was there too. ‘Thank you, Finch, you need not show me up.’

He handed Finch his hat and gloves, then climbed the stairs two at a time, his heart thumping with an eagerness to see her.

When he walked into the drawing room, she was not with them. Before he even said good morning, he asked, ‘Where is Caro?’

Mary stood to greet him. ‘She has not come down. She is not feeling well. We had a considerable number of callers yesterday afternoon. I have not seen her since. ’

‘I cannot blame her, Rob,’ Kate said. ‘She spent the entire afternoon as an exhibit. Though she survived it remarkably well.’

I should have been here.

He wanted to go to Caro’s room but he could not. Instead, he stepped forward. ‘I called early so I might see the children.’ He embraced Mary briefly.

‘I will ask for them to be brought down,’ Mary said, and crossed the room to speak to whichever footman was hovering outside the door.

‘We are planning an outing.’ Kate sat forward in her chair and patted the seat beside her. ‘Will you join us? We intend asking all the family. We thought to take the children out somewhere they will have space to run.’

‘When?’ he asked, as he sat down beside Kate.

‘In a fortnight, when Mama and Papa are in town,’ Mary answered, as she came to sit the other side of him.

‘Rob. Hello.’

His head spun, as Caro walked into the room, and he stood, smiling as his heart strings played a solitary violin. He crossed the room, probably too eagerly, and took both her hands. Her skin was pale, and dark circles rimmed her eyes. ‘Mary said you were not well…’

‘I was tired. I did not sleep. Forgive me for not coming down earlier, Kate.’

As Caro looked beyond him, he remembered himself and released her hands.

‘I understand entirely,’ Kate responded.

‘Are you here this early for a reason, Rob?’ Caro asked, casually, as he returned to the seat.

‘I called to see the children.’ He felt awkward and tongue-tied.

She settled herself in an armchair near Kate.

John’s children, Paul and David, were brought down from the nursery with George. John’s second son was a similar age to George, and Paul not much older. The boys vied for Rob’s attention and so Rob’s concentration and energy were absorbed, while the women planned the family outing.

When the time came to eat luncheon, John was still busy in his library, working on something, so they ate at the table in the morning room with the children.

When they finished eating, Rob smiled at Caro. ‘You look as though you could do with some fresh air, Caro, and perhaps it may be an idea to escape the house before the calling hour. Why not come for a drive? I have my phaeton with me. We could visit the Tower of London. Have you been there?’

She was sitting at the table with George on her lap. She met his gaze. ‘No, I have never been there. That would be kind of you, Rob.’

‘Then we will go for a drive, in the opposite direction to Hyde Park, and escape all the nosy gossips.’

A smile parted her lips slightly. ‘I would like that, thank you, Rob.’

‘You do not mind if I steal her away for the afternoon?’ he said to the other women.

Mary smiled her gratitude. She had seen nothing odd in his offer. ‘Not at all, it will be good for you, Caro. George, come here, poppet.’

‘Fetch a bonnet and something warm to wear, then, and we will be off.’ Rob nodded to Caro. ‘I will ask the grooms to bring my curricle to the door and await you in the hall.’

Caro handed George to Mary and left the room.

He said goodbye to the children, Mary and Kate, and left to have the curricle prepared.

When Caro came down the stairs, if anyone in the family had seen her haste, they would have guessed there was something between them. Her smile was broad and happiness glittered in her tired eyes.

She wore a moss-green pelisse and a matching broad-rimmed bonnet decorated with white rose buds, and she also wore kid-leather gloves and a thin cream silk scarf. She looked impeccably beautiful.

The footman held up Rob’s greatcoat, so he could slide his arms into the sleeves. He smiled towards Caro, as he pulled on his gloves, then accepted, and put on, his hat.

‘We will be a while,’ Rob said to the footman. ‘If anyone calls to speak to Lady Kilbride let them know she is out for the afternoon.’ He doubted they would ask for Caro, but hopefully when they discovered she was not here, they would not bother calling again.

When the door was opened, he offered his arm to Caro. Her hand settled on his coat sleeve. His palm pressed over the back of her hand as jubilation made his heart skip.

He handed her up into his curricle as the grooms held the horses, then he walked about the far side and climbed up to the driver’s seat.

When he took the reins, he glanced at her. She sat straight, stiff-backed, on the seat. In a proud posture, her face hidden behind the brim of her bonnet. He set the horses into a steady trot.

‘I suppose you have ridden in far more luxurious curricles than my phaeton…’

Her head turned and she smiled broadly. ‘No, actually.’ The sunlight caught in her eyes, making them gleam gold. ‘I have never been taken for a drive before.’

‘Then, I should have taken you out when I stayed at Drew’s. I could have shown you how fast my horses can fly.’

‘They may be fast, but I am sure they cannot fly, Rob. ’

‘Very well, I admit they cannot, but it feels as though they can when you are going at a gallop and racing on a wind.’

He steered the horses about a corner, the wheels splashing through puddles left by a night of rain.

He would leave St James and take them away from the fashionable areas of London.

He glanced at her. ‘Caro…’ He waited for her head to turn, so he could see her face.

‘We can go to the Tower of London if you like, or we could go to my apartment instead.’

She smiled. ‘I have visited the Tower a dozen times.’ Her pale eyebrows lifted, saying she knew that was never his intention, as she admitted her part in his conspiracy. ‘I have never been there. That would be kind of you, Rob.’

‘My apartment it is, then.’ He looked ahead, then added, ‘Have you really never ridden in a high curricle?’

‘I would not fib for the sake of your ego.’ She laughed. ‘Only to spend some time alone with you.’

The sound of her laugh was like a sharp stab into his heart, but it was a sweet pain.

He drove through the back streets, avoiding the routes society preferred.

They did pass a couple of society carriages, adorned by coats of arms that implied the occupants might know her, but she lowered her head, hiding within her bonnet, and he doubted anyone would be interested in who sat beside him.

It was the rest of his family who were important.

He was not even considered a member of the ton because he had no title.

He steered into the mews where he stabled his curricle and horses, and stopped in the stable yard, remembering how she was used to stopping outside a door, where the grooms came running.

A senior groom walked forward. ‘Will you need the curricle again today, sir?’

‘Yes, in an hour or two.’

‘An hour, or two hours, sir? ’

‘Actually, have it ready for three hours’ time, please.’

‘Very well, sir.’ The man touched the brim of his cap, in deference, as a young stable boy came out to hold the horses’ heads.

Rob tied off the reins, then climbed down and came about the carriage to help Caro descend. He did not take her hand, but his hands hovered at her waist as she turned to navigate the curricle’s steep, narrow steps.

She kept her head lowered, demurely, hiding her face within her bonnet as they left the mews, and crossed the street.

‘My apartment has a private staircase,’ he said, leading her to the glossy-black-painted door. He took the key from his pocket, his hand shaking as he turned it in the lock.

He ought not to be doing this.

She swept past him, the lavender in her perfume catching in his nostrils. When he shut the door behind them, he threw the bolt, just to be sure, as her boots struck the steps of the stairs with a quick rhythm.

He followed her up, hurrying too, and at the top, as she stood before his door, he caught hold of her, pulled the loose end of the bow securing her bonnet, and said, as her bonnet tumbled down her back to the floor, ‘You must accept my apology now, for this and much more.’

‘You are forgiven,’ she replied in the moment before his lips touched hers.

It felt as though he had spent his last weeks in a desert and Caro was water. Their mouths opened and their tongues danced thirstily, for a few long moments.

‘I love you,’ he said as he pulled away and opened the door to his rooms.

She did not look about the sitting room, at the small amount of purposeful furniture, but pushed his thick greatcoat from his shoulders, expressing that her purpose for being here was the same as his.

As she tugged at the knot of his cravat, he released the buttons at the front of her pelisse, getting into a tangle that brought laughter from their throats.

‘Shall we undress ourselves and not each other…?’ she suggested.

He nodded in agreement.

When he was clothed in his shirt and his trousers only, and she in her dress, the buttons undone to her stomach, his palm caught her nape and pulled her close so he might kiss her once more. That second kiss was long enough to leave her lips and the black pupils at the heart of her eyes swollen.

She breathed in, as if she’d been dying of thirst too, and breathed out her relief.

‘How are you, Caro? I have been in agony waiting to be alone like this.’ He pulled her dress off her shoulders and pushed it down over her chemise and petticoats, until it fell to the floor.

‘I missed you yesterday.’ She stepped out of the dress, and he bent to pick it up.

‘Mary told me about your callers.’ He folded the dress and put it on a chair. ‘I wish I had been there. I will be there tomorrow. Will you turn?’

She turned her back so he might unlace her short corset. ‘Your presence will make no difference.’

‘No, but you will know I am there.’ She tipped her head back onto his shoulder as he removed the garment of her short corset from her shoulders.

He threw it aside, so it landed on top of her dress.

Then his hands covered and held her breasts through the fine cotton of her chemise, and he kissed her neck, below her ear.

She sighed into the air.

They ought not to be here, and yet no one knew they were, it was as though they were not – this was their secret world.

She turned in his arms. ‘Where is your bed? ’

A smiled kicked at the edges of his lips. ‘Through here.’ He led her by the hand.

A single chest of drawers stood against one wall, and the bed against another. She did not look at them, she looked at him.

‘Shall I light a fire?’ he offered.

‘No, we will be warm enough beneath the covers.’

‘Sit on the bed and I will take off your boots and stockings.’ He unlaced her walking boots, slid them from her small feet, then untied the ribbon of her garters, and rolled her stockings off her legs.

‘Take off your petticoats, chemise and drawers and slip beneath the covers before you become cold, while I take off my boots and finish undressing.’

He sat on the edge of the bed, yanking at his boots, as she quickly finished undressing, lifted the blankets and sheet and slid beneath, smiling at him.

The first boot dropped to the floor with a thud. He removed the other, then stood and stripped off his trousers, underwear and stockings. Lastly, he pulled off his shirt, then rushed to join her in the bed.

When they had lain together naked it had been in the dark. Now he could see every glorious detail of her body.