The Wicked Baron (17 page)

Read The Wicked Baron Online

Authors: Sarah Mallory

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Romance & Sagas, #Historical romance

‘I have been waiting for you.’

Carlotta stopped struggling. The hand was removed from her face and she swung around.

‘Luke,’ she hissed. ‘What are you doing here?’

He looked down at her, his face in deep shadow.

‘I told you, I was waiting for you. I knew you would go to see your parents, with or without consent. I saw it in your face when James forbade you to go.’

‘He did not forbid it, he merely advised.’

‘And your uncle? I assume he knows the truth now about the attack.’

‘Yes, I explained it all to him and to my aunt when we retired. They were deeply shocked.’

‘And did they condone this night-time escapade?’ He waited. ‘Well?’

‘I did not tell them,’ she replied in a small voice.

‘I thought as much.’

‘How did you know I would be here?

He reached up and cupped her chin with his hand. Gently he ran his thumb across her bottom lip. Despite her anxiety, the familiar flame of desire stirred at his touch.

‘I have seen that obstinate look before—it was a simple
matter to ascertain the nearest way out of the house from your chamber.’

‘I suppose you will insist that I return.’

She heard him laugh softly. He pulled her hand on to his arm.

‘No, but I insist you let me accompany you.’

Relief flooded through her. ‘
Thank
you!’

‘Save your thanks until we are safely indoors once again,’ he muttered. ‘And pull your hood up to cover your face. That’s better. We will take the longer path, through the trees to the far side of the lake. I would not expect anyone to be looking out of the window at this time of night, but we will take no risks.’

 

After the attacks upon her father, Carlotta had not been looking forward to walking through the dark grounds of Malberry Court, but with Luke beside her she was no longer afraid. They left the shelter of the walled garden and followed the path around the perimeter of the park. They walked in silence with only the occasional screech of a fox or hooting owl to disturb the peace.

When they reached the stile, Carlotta glanced around her anxiously, knowing that this was where her father had been attacked. The trees and lush undergrowth made the area particularly dark, and she was glad to have Luke’s comforting presence as they made their way past her parents’ house, one side of it blackened and damaged. The gaping black holes where the windows had been made her shudder, and she was pleased that Luke hurried her on towards the George, where lights still blazed from the taproom despite the lateness of the hour. He led her under the arch, but at the doorway he stopped, pushing her behind him.

‘Wait here. I will make sure there is no one on the stairs…Good, it’s clear. Come along.’

Carlotta could hear voices and laughter coming from the taproom. The smell of stale cabbage and onions permeated the dark corridor. Taking her hand, Luke led her up the narrow staircase and along a dimly lit passage, stopping at the end to knock on a solid door. A bolt scraped back, the door opened, and Carlotta fell into her father’s arms.

 

Carlotta sat between her mother and father, looking from one to the other to assure herself that they were safe while they explained what had happened.

‘It is not so very bad.’ Her father shrugged. ‘We lost some clothes, a few pots and pans—’

‘A few pots and pans!’ cried Mrs Durini, ‘My whole kitchen was destroyed.’

Signor Durini threw up his hands. ‘Hah, of what importance is a kitchen?’

‘Of great importance, if you want to eat,’ returned his wife, drily. ‘Not only that, the flames reached the room above it, where most of my gowns were stored.’

‘I shall buy you more gowns,
cara
. But if it had reached my
pittura
, or the
miniatura
, now
that
would have been serious. As it is, Signor Ainslowe has said he will send his carriage tomorrow morning to take us to another, safer house, and we can continue to work there. Signor Ainslowe says the final two temples can be completed some other time, he has enough for now.’ He squeezed Carlotta’s hand. ‘So you must not worry about us, Carla. In fact, I think we should celebrate our good fortune! I shall fetch a bottle of wine, if our landlord is not abed!’

‘I’ll go with you,’ said Luke.

‘Papa is remarkably calm about all this,’ said Carlotta as the two men left the room.

‘Your father is an artist. He lives for his painting. Besides, Lord Darvell and his brother have promised to help us, and they are good men, I think. Although I cannot condone his lordship bringing you here tonight, and so late.’

‘It was my idea, Mama.’

‘Well, you should not have come, my love. It is not safe.’

Carlotta put up her chin. ‘I had to come; I could not let you go away without seeing for myself that you were unharmed. Please do not be angry with me.’

‘Of course not, my love.’ Mrs Durini smiled fondly at her. ‘And you have something to tell us, too, have you not?’ She lifted Carlotta’s hand, turning it so that the ring on her finger glinted in the candlelight.

Carlotta’s cheeks grew warm. ‘Yes, Mama. I—I am betrothed.’

‘Oh, my dear, that is wonderful! To…?’

‘M-Mr Woollatt.’

Mrs Durini blinked. ‘Mr Woollatt? The man your aunt mentioned in her letters, the rich suitor?’

‘Yes, Mama. The
very
rich suitor.’

‘Then why are you with…?’

‘Lord Darvell is m-my friend,’ Carlotta replied, flushing.

Mrs Durini frowned. She took Carlotta by the shoulders and pulled her round to face her. ‘My love, listen to me. A young lady cannot have male friends, especially when she is betrothed. People will talk.’

‘Let them; I do not care what they say!’

‘Of course you do not, but your fiancé might well care.’

‘Please do not worry, Mama. Luke only came with me to
protect me; no one knows we are here, and we shall be careful to make sure we are not seen as we go back through the park.’

Her mother did not look very reassured. ‘We will have no more than one glass of wine together,
cara
, then you must go home as quickly as possible. Do not tarry. Promise me.’

‘Of course, Mama, but there is no danger, Luke is with me.’

She pulled Carlotta into her arms and hugged her tightly. ‘Oh, my sweet child,’ she murmured, ‘there is every danger!’

 

‘Well, are you happy now you have seen your parents?’

Carlotta and Luke were walking back through the park, their path through the trees dappled with moonlight.

‘Yes, I am.’

‘Then what is worrying you, Carlotta?’

She looked up quickly, but Luke’s face was in shadow.

‘Is it so obvious?’

‘It is to me.’

She sighed. ‘Mama says…I must…She says you cannot be my friend.’

‘She is right. That is why I was going to leave Malberry today.’

‘Then why did you return?’

‘Because I could not leave knowing you might be in danger.’

A bubble of happiness began to grow inside her; she reached out for him. ‘So you
do
care.’

‘Yes.’

He squeezed her hand, and the fragile little bubble burst as Carlotta felt Mr Woollatt’s ring pressing into her fingers.

The gibbous moon was high above them, sailing through the clouds, serene and untroubled. Luke had a
sudden impulse to throw back his head and howl, letting out his despair and frustration.

‘It is too late. I would to heaven I had declared myself.’ He was not aware that he had spoken aloud until he heard Carlotta’s heavy sigh.

‘My uncle would not have countenanced it, he—he deplores your loose ways. Besides, Mr Woollatt is far richer than you, is he not?’

Luke hesitated. Should he tell her how much he loved her? What good would it do now? If she broke off the engagement to Woollatt, she would be labelled a jilt and lose her place in society—her rightful place and one that she had known for such a short time. He could not do that to her—and if he did, would she not come to hate him for it? He forced himself to speak lightly.

‘Yes, Woollatt is a much better man than I am, in all ways.’

The little hand in his trembled. He stopped. Something about the stance of the slender figure beside him stabbed at his heart. Her hood had fallen back, but she stood with her face averted. He took her shoulders and pulled her into a patch of moonlight. Still she would not look at him and he cupped her chin with his hand, tilting her face up. As she raised her eyes to look at him, he saw that they were glistening with tears.

‘Ah, love, don’t cry.’ The words were wrenched from him. He folded her in his arms, felt the stiff little body resist for a moment before collapsing against him, sobbing piteously.

He held her, crooning softly and caressing her hair, hating her pain, but at the same time revelling in the closeness, the feel of her leaning against him, dependent upon him for comfort. Desire stirred; her nearness was arousing him, but he tried to ignore it. He rested his cheek on her hair,
breathing in the fresh, flowery scent. If only this could go on for ever, if they did not have to face the morning. If only…

He realised she had stopped crying and was standing passively within his arms, her head resting against his chest. He loosened his hold and reached into his pocket.

‘Here,’ he said, holding up a handkerchief. ‘I would rather you wiped your eyes on this than my shirt front.’

A watery chuckle greeted his words. ‘Thank you.’ She raised her head, smiling slightly, but as she reached for the handkerchief he pulled his hand away.

‘No, let me do it.’ She stood quietly, her face uplifted, while he wiped her cheeks. ‘There, that’s better.’ He kissed the tip of her nose. She stood mutely looking up at him, her eyes huge and dark in her pale face, her lips full and lush. Irresistible. Gently, he slid his lips over hers. Just one kiss, he told himself, just one moment of happiness before he gave her up for ever.

 

Carlotta closed her eyes as his mouth found hers. It was supremely comforting, having Luke so close to her. Her hands slid up around his neck. Just once, she told herself, just one last, treasured moment to remember in the bleak years that stretched ahead of her. It was her last conscious thought. Luke’s mouth became harder, more demanding and she gave herself up to the pleasurable sensations he was arousing within her. She pressed herself against his hard, aroused body and felt her insides liquefy. An urgent and irrepressible need consumed her. Luke pushed aside her cloak, his hands sliding over her shoulders, then he was cupping her breast, his thumb circling, teasing until she was pushing hard against him, her thighs aching, her body tingling with an anticipation she did not understand. His
mouth trailed lightly across her neck, his breath tickling her skin, his touch sending little darts of heat through her body. She drove her fingers through his hair and gave a little moan of pleasure.

 

Desire surged through Luke, fuelled by elation as Carlotta leaned against him, her body inviting his caresses. He pushed her back gently, trapping her against a tree. His tongue flickered over the silky smooth skin of her shoulder, nibbled gently at her collarbone before his mouth moved on to explore the soft swell of her breasts. He pushed aside the thin muslin and took one hard erect nipple in his mouth, his tongue circling slowly while Carlotta arched against him, her responses driving all other thoughts from his mind. Her hands tangled in his hair, then, as the fingers of her left hand slid down to caress his cheek, he felt the hard, unyielding metal of the ring upon her finger.

It was a little touch, but it was enough. It reminded him that Carlotta was to be another man’s wife. Slowly Luke raised his head, listening to his own ragged breathing. He would not do this. He would not take what did not belong to him. Carlotta was looking up at him, her eyes large and luminous with desire. He could take her now; he knew she was willing, but he remembered the vow he had made to himself twelve months ago, that he would not ruin her. His own private devil whispered that no one need ever know, she would not be the first bride to go to her husband without her virginity, but it would not do.
She
would know, and she was too honest, too innocent to live with that secret—it would ruin any chance she had of happiness with her husband.

‘Luke, what is it?’

He kissed her, one final, light touch of the lips. ‘No more, sweetheart. I am promised to protect you, and I must get you back to the Court before I dishonour you completely.’

She was watching him, the signs of doubt on her face. ‘Do you not…want me?’

He heard the uncertainty in her voice. It tore at his heart. ‘Want you! Heaven and earth, love, you’ll never know how much!’ He cupped her face with one hand, saying gently, ‘I will not take another man’s bride, Carlotta. It would bring us all pain. Believe me, I know, I have seen it happen too many times.’ He moved away from her, away from temptation. ‘I will not lie to you—I have had my share of mistresses, but it has always been a game understood by both parties. We enjoyed each other, then moved on, with no regrets, no broken hearts—until now. I will not risk yours.’

Carlotta was confused. Her heightened senses were aware of the balmy stillness of the night and the moon sailing overhead, so calm and serene. Yet here, within the shadow of the trees, there was an atmosphere of suppressed passion. She felt as if she had been rudely awakened from a lovely dream, where she and Luke loved each other, and nothing else mattered. Now he talked of risks, and broken hearts. She gave a shaky laugh. ‘It is too late for that, I think.’

‘But not too late for you to be happy.’

She put a hand to her head, trying to think clearly. ‘I—I do not understand.’ She heard him sigh.

‘No, you are too innocent, but believe me, it is for the best. You must marry Woollatt with a clear conscience. You deserve that.
He
deserves it.’

A line from a poem darted into her head and she murmured the words,

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