The Secret Love of a Gentleman (17 page)

Over the last weeks they’d found numerous topics on which to converse, but now he could think of nothing to say.

When they left the courtyard Rob noticed the colour of the sky in the distance, it was a hazy brown-grey. It looked as though the hot weather was about to break, but a good rainfall would freshen the air and it would make it easier for him to travel tomorrow.

He looked at Caro. She must be so hot in her habit. “I feel sorry for you riding in a habit in this heat. I have heard some women ride in breeches.”

She glanced at him, smiling. “I would not.”

He laughed. No, he could not imagine it. She was too delicate for such rash behaviour.
I will miss her.

He should regret their kisses, but he did not. He would not forget this summer. It felt as though he had laid the foundations of his life. He’d been content here in a way he’d never been before… All they had left was this, an hour alone, and one evening with Drew and Mary, and then this summer would be over.

The tug of war burst into life in his chest: sadness because he would be leaving here and leaving Caro, and excitement because tomorrow he would ride to London to begin his journey to discover where his life would take him. The future was a canvas for him to paint. He could not regret his need to leave any more than he did not regret his time with Caro. He’d respected her, admired her, and then he had discovered a bond he’d known with no other woman—it was so much more than friendship. So the time they had left was time to be savoured before they must say goodbye.

Caro lifted into a trot and led the way along the drive. She turned to the left when they reached the road, heading towards the home farm.

There was nothing to say and so they rode in silence, in single file, on the edge of the road, as occasional carts passed.

When they reached the farm, they had a choice: to follow a track into the woods, which was on Drew’s land, or to turn into the home farm pasture fields which led on to John’s land. Caro rode on through the farmyard, then urged her horse to jump the gate into the field.

Rob kicked his heels and urged his horse to follow. Once he’d leapt the gate, he pulled up. She had stopped on the far side.

“I want to ride on the Duke’s land. I want to gallop.”

He nodded and kicked his heels again when she set off into a canter. They could not gallop on the farm land. It would scare the cattle and the sheep.

The perfume from her hair carried on the warm air and grasped at his senses as she took the lead. Lavender. Her pace created a breeze and so he rode close to her.

Her arms looked even more slender than normal in the dark habit.

Their horses’ hooves thudded on the ground, a rhythmic sound that filled the humid, dense air.

The sky was becoming the colour of worn, stained linen, but Caro showed no sign that she wished to turn back.

They rode parallel to the wood on the other side of the rough stone wall that enclosed the field. In places, the wood was the boundary between John’s and Drew’s land, and the wooden gate ahead of them that had been put in when Drew and Mary had brought the land, led from Drew’s pastures onto John’s parkland.

Caro rode ahead and bent to open the gate rather than jump it.

It was unlike her to lead him on to John’s land. He’d always opened the gate before, but then they’d ridden this way several times.

He leaned down and pulled the gate closed behind them.

She was already kicking her heel to urge the mare she rode into a gallop. He followed, giving his stallion its head, balancing on the stirrups and hovering above his saddle.

They were riding through the parkland on which John’s deer herd grazed, but the deer were not in view.

He did not race, but kept a pace behind her, in case her mare hit a rabbit hole and came down.

The air felt even denser here. Their horses cut through it as the sky above them became a broad sheet of stained linen. Still neither of them held back. He did not have the heart to end their ride and clearly Caro did not wish to.

Their hoof beats struck the ground, hard and heavy; a deep sound muffled by the turf as they sent clods of grass and soil flying in their wake.

They still hadn’t spoken and yet just to be beside her, sharing a moment of freedom, felt good. He’d given this to her; she had not ridden for years until he’d invited her.

An unmistakable rumble of thunder shook the air. He hadn’t seen the lightning but it must have been there somewhere in the distance. It would be a death wish to keep the horses out in a thunderstorm.

He leaned across and gripped Caro’s reins, pulling his own too, but he only gripped them for an instant to slow her, then he left her to pull to a halt as he managed his own horse.

“We’ll turn and head back to the woods. Hopefully the horses will not be spooked there and we can shelter.”

The sky was no longer a linen colour. It was angry, dark and ominous. But there was still that brown hue to it that said there was thunder in the air.

Caro spun her mare around and headed for the wood. He thought she would smile at him, but she did not. She merely stirred the mare into a gallop again as if she tried to outrun him, yet he thought perhaps it was not to race, but to escape the emotion of their goodbye. These were their last moments alone together.

Another clap of thunder roared through the sky.

Caro’s horse whinnied and reared its head, slowing suddenly, but Caro held her seat and tried to calm it. The animals were more sensitive. They must be able to smell and feel the storm in the air.

“Steady,” he urged Caro when she pressed on, but she didn’t ride any slower.

A bright light split the sky above them, stretching from behind them as the air vibrated with a deep growl.

He gripped his reins hard and held his horse steady as it made a sound of discomfort.

Caro held her horse firmly, but a muscle flickered in her animal’s neck when another flash lit up the sky to their left. The thunder cracked a couple of moments later.

His horse thrust its head up against the bit. “It’s fine, boy. Keep calm.” Rob patted the animal’s neck.

They raced over the grass heading towards the wall. The quickest way into the woods was to jump it.

They were nearing the wall when the next flash came from their right. The thunder was fast on the back of it, and it sounded as though the sky splintered. Both animals missed a stride, their forelegs landing out of rhythm, but he and Caro urged them on regardless, and Rob prayed there would be no thunder as they jumped.

A large drop of rain fell on his crown, then a second on his shoulder, and a third on his arm. Then there were too many to count. It was as though the rain had been shaken out of the cloud, and now it poured down, drenching his hair and his clothing.

They had a dozen yards left to ride when the rain turned to hail. Sharp balls of ice dropped like stones, stinging and cold. He pressed ahead, lifting his stallion’s head and jumping the wall.

He looked over as he leaned back when his horse landed. Caro was a pace behind him and she flew over the wall in a perfect jump.

They had about four strides before they hit the woodland. They both pulled on their reins as the hail turned back into rain.

Caro was soaked. Her hair clung to her head and her face, while her wet habit defined every curve of her body. The rain dripped from her nose and her chin. Her mare moved restlessly, fractious. “Jump down, Caro.” Rob was nervous the animal would shy and unseat her.

His stallion side-stepped, just as uncomfortable.

He lifted a leg over his saddle, then jumped down to the grass, while Caro slid off her saddle and dropped to the ground.

Another flash split the sky above of them and, almost immediately, the thunder shook the air. Caro’s mare reared and she fought to keep a hold of the reins.

He gripped her hand to help her, then caught hold of the reins closer to the animal’s bit. He left the animal to Caro to keep steady once it had calmed.

A sharp wind swept at the treetops and the branches swayed, spooking the horses even more, while the rain still poured down on them.

He was soaked. His cotton shirt was translucent, revealing the hair that covered his chest beneath it.

“Come on.” He led the way into the woods. “It should only be a few yards through the undergrowth and then we should pick up the track.”

Under the trees the rain did not fall so heavily but dripped onto them from the canopy of leaves.

When they reached the track, another flash brightened the sky, and a minute or so later the thunder shook the trees. The animals tugged on their reins. He stopped and turned to calm his horse. Caro stroked her mare’s muzzle and whispered to it.

Rob looked around. “Is there anywhere to take shelter here?” They were miles away from the house.

“There’s an old charcoal-burner’s cottage somewhere in the woods. It’s never used now. It’s somewhere off the track, but I don’t know where.”

“Come on, then, let us try to find it. Right or left?”

“Left. I would guess it would be nearer the pastures.”

It was still raining. A shower of raindrops tumbled from the rustling leaves, blown down by the wind. He shook his head, shaking the water from his hair like a dog.

“It’s there. Look. I see it.” Caro pointed further along the track.

He could see it through the trees. It was just a small, whitewashed single-storey hut.

A flash brightened the sky, and then it was as if the sky had been torn open as the thunder cracked and shook the trees. His horse tried to rear, but Rob held it tight while Caro settled her mare.

“Come on, fellow, keep going.” Rob led his stallion into the clearing before the hut.

There was a lean-to on the side of it, which was broad enough to stable the horses. He walked his stallion over to it. The animals would at least be out of the rain, and perhaps feel more secure. He tied his reins onto a wooden post in the frame. Water dripped from his hair as he released the girth strap under the horse’s belly, then pulled off the saddle. Then he turned to release the girth strap on Caro’s horse.

He lifted the saddle off her mare while she secured the animal’s reins.

When she’d finished, she stood to one side, out of the way of the horses, her arms clutched across her chest.

“Let’s go inside.” He held her arm, led her back out into the rain and around to the front door of the hut. The door swung open when he pushed it. He urged Caro to go in first.

The hut had a dirt floor, and there was only a single cot-like bed and a small table in the room. The fireplace stood empty. It was a simple labourer’s hut.

Caro’s eyes were wide as she looked around. She turned to him and breathed in heavily.

The sharp, sudden thirst he’d become used to with her gripped at his throat as she lifted to her toes. Her fingers clasped the back of his neck to pull his head down. “I apologise to you now,” she said against his lips.

“You’re forgiven,” he said in the moment before their kiss began. This would most likely be their last kiss. He would treasure these moments with Caro for his whole life.

She pressed against him, her tongue dancing around his with more urgency than it had before.

His hands slid down the back of her wet habit and braced her bottom, holding her against him. The damp, heavy velvet crushing in his fingers.

Another flash and another clap of thunder shook the hut, but it did not matter now that they were in the shelter.

Her arms wrapped about his neck.

The heaviness in his groin solidified and his erection pressed against his trousers and her stomach.

He kneaded her bottom through the layers of cloth as the thirst he’d known the night she’d come to the library raged in his blood. Yet today he’d had no liquor. Perhaps his intoxication had only ever been due to Caro.

She broke the kiss and looked into his eyes. Hers shone like deep, light amber. “Touch me.” As she spoke she pulled at the damp cotton either side of his stomach, trying to free his shirt from his trousers.

Lust screamed for far more. He cupped her breast. It filled his palm and his fingers splayed as he kneaded the damp cloth and her flesh beneath it, remembering the feel of soft skin, as his mouth pressed down on hers.

Her fingers tugged at his soaked shirt and pulled it from his trousers. Then her fingers touched his waist, holding on in a way that said the words she had not spoken,
don’t go
.

She broke their kiss again. “May we lie down?”

Yes. All he wished to do was lay her back and move between her legs, but that would be wrong, he was leaving within hours.

He kissed her temple, then nodded, silenced by thoughts he should not consider.

“Would you help me remove the coat of my habit, it’s uncomfortable.” She was breathing heavily and her hands were shaking as she began freeing buttons. He took over the task, then helped her peel it off.

She wore only a chemise beneath it. She must have left off her corset due to the heat. Her chemise was wet too; it clung to her dark-pink nipples and stuck to the curves of her breasts.

A sensation tore through his chest to his stomach, then grasped in his groin. It was lust…Harry’s addiction.

Rob’s was Caro.

He leaned forward, gripped the back of her neck and kissed her hard as he backed her towards the bed, his tongue thrusting into her mouth.

“Wait.” She stopped him as they reached the rustic wooden frame, and freed the small buttons at the front of her chemise too. When she’d finished it hung open, revealing the amber cross she wore and the first curve of each breast.

When she lay down the little cross slid over her skin. “You have held back and not touched me since the night of the dance. I do not wish you to hold back. Touch me as you did then.” He stood over her as she lifted her skirt to make it easier for him to lie between her legs. The bed was only wide enough for them to lie together.

Once her skirt was above her knees, she caught hold of his hand and pulled him down, bringing his hand to her breast. “This is what I want.”

Need clasped tight in his chest as he gently brushed the wet cotton aside and looked at the swell of her bosom.