The Wicked Baron (21 page)

‘I
—I was not expecting to see you here, Sir Gilbert.’ Carlotta tried to sound innocent and bewildered. Could she convince him she was involved in a romantic intrigue? She thought not, since he showed no surprise at her presence. She began to talk rapidly. ‘I thought everyone would be gone by now. Were you delayed?’ She glanced at his stockings and buckled shoes. ‘L-looking for your boots, perhaps? One can hardly walk back through the park without them, can one?’

‘Reed has taken my boots back to Malberry Court. By now they will be lined up with all the others, waiting to be cleaned.’ His growing smile made her shiver. ‘Everyone will assume I am in my bed.’

‘R-really?’ She began to back away. ‘I—um—I told my maid I was coming here to collect something. She will be anxious if I am not back soon—’

He laughed at her.

‘You are the most delightful little liar, Miss Rivington. We both know you did no such thing. The note said “tell no one.” You will have followed the instructions to the letter.’

Carlotta stared at him. ‘How do you know what was in the note?’

‘Because Reed took the original off Darvell’s groom and brought it to me.
I
wrote the reply.’

Her heart dropped. There had been a faint, unacknowledged hope that Luke might rescue her, but now that hope died. She swallowed painfully. ‘What is it you want with me?’

‘Not your virtue, if that thought is making you clutch your cloak around you so tightly. Unfortunately, you know my secret.’

‘Secret?’

‘Come, come, Miss Rivington—or should I call you Miss Durini? Let us pretend no longer. You of all people should know that the Tiepolo is a copy.’

‘Yes…but it is not so very bad; I dare say if you explained everything—’

‘Explain it? I have
cheated
, my dear—cheated on a debt of honour. The
ton
would have no mercy, I should be shunned, no member of society would acknowledge me, and how long do you imagine it would be before my creditors started hounding me? I would be ruined.’

‘But no one else need know of it,’ she said quickly, ‘I will say nothing—’

‘I am afraid, my dear, I cannot take that chance. You must be disposed of.’

‘You—you would not dare,’ she whispered, still moving away from him.

‘Oh, I would.’

‘But it will do you no good. Sooner or later someone else will notice, too.’

‘Before that happens I hope to have the picture back in
my possession. I am sure I can persuade Ainslowe to sell it back to me.’

Carlotta shook her head. ‘I doubt it; Mrs Ainslowe has already told you she has grown to like it.’

‘That is, of course, a minor problem, but she is not yet recovered. I think if Mrs Ainslowe were to take a turn for the worse, her husband might be far too overset to care about a mere painting—in fact, he might be pleased to be rid of it, if it reminds him of his wife. Yes, that might work out very well. At the time I thought it a pity that she should be in the gig with you, but now I see it could be an advantage.’

‘So the crash was your doing?’

‘Yes. I was waiting in the woods, ready to administer the final blow, should either of you survive, but those damn fool shepherds were up on the hill and decided to come so gallantly to your rescue. But there is no one here this time to rescue you.’

Carlotta’s lip curled. ‘You are insane if you think you will get away with it.’

‘But I
am
getting away with it. The attack on Durini has been blamed on gypsies, and as for the gig—Ainslowe’s coachman was too drunk to do his job. If he were my man, I would have turned him off immediately for such gross ineptitude.’

An icy chill spread through Carlotta as she listened to Sir Gilbert. He was rambling on, and she began to think he was truly deranged. She forced herself to consider her situation. Mattingwood stood before the entrance, blocking her escape. She guessed there would be a smaller, servants’ door beyond the warm room. If she could only reach the back room, then perhaps she could get out into the park. She turned on her heel and ran, heading for the inner door.
She felt the tug as Mattingwood caught at her swirling cloak, but the ties were loosened and it slipped easily from her shoulders. The door was only feet away, if she could get through and slam it shut—it would give her precious seconds to find a way out.

‘Got you!’ A strong hand gripped her shoulder, yanking her backwards.

‘Let me go! Help! Help me!’

‘Scream all you like, there is no one to hear you.’ He pinioned her arms at her sides and held her against his chest. As she stared up at him, she saw the look in his eyes change. ‘Hmm, shame to kill you before I have sampled your charms.’ He leered down at her. His hold tightened and his head came down towards her. She turned her face away, squirming as she felt his lips on her skin. She tried to struggle, but he was too strong for her, pulling her closer until she could feel his body pressing against hers. Revulsion and fear shuddered through her. She stopped struggling, gathering her strength for one final, desperate push.

‘That’s right,’ his voice was muffled as he nuzzled her neck. ‘Relax and enjoy it, my dear.’

His arms slid around her, binding her to him. She turned her head against his; the smell of the oil on his blond hair made her feel sick, but she ignored it. She reached round and sank her teeth into his ear. He yelled with pain.

Savage satisfaction raged through her and she fought desperately to break away. She freed one hand and clawed at his cheek, her nails drawing blood before he pinioned her arms again and dragged her with him into the plunge pool.

The shock of the cold water paralysed Carlotta, but it took only a moment to realise that Sir Gilbert’s vice-like grip on her had slackened. She kicked out and felt the
stone steps beneath her feet. She struggled towards them, but before she could crawl out of the pool he had grabbed her again, pulling her back into the deeper water. She scrabbled wildly, her legs entangled by the clinging skirts of her gown. Sir Gilbert’s weight was on her shoulders, pushing her down. She ducked away from him and came up to the surface, gasping. Then he lunged at her once more and forced her head under the water again.

Carlotta’s lungs were bursting, burning with the effort to hold her breath. She knew it must end soon. The blood was pounding in her ears. She began to exhale, allowing the air to slip from her body. She could see the bubbles rising past her face. Soon she would have to breathe in and the cold, deadly water would fill her up. She would drown. She tried to hold back, but it was impossible; the last of the air escaped her and the empty, burning void of her lungs screamed for her to take a breath.
Give in
, said the tiny voice in her head.
Give in—a moment’s pain and it will be all over
. She knew she was weakening as the blood and water pounded in her ears. It was too much effort to fight any longer.

Then, miraculously, the weight above her was gone. Strong hands were lifting her, dragging her out of the water. She lay face down on the cold stone, coughing and gasping. When at last she dared to open her eyes, she saw she was lying in a pool of water that was expanding outwards as more dribbled from her clothes and hair.

‘Just in time, thank God.’ Luke’s voice was shaking, but his hands were firm and comforting on her shoulders as he helped her to sit up. Raising her eyes, she saw Sir Gilbert on his knees with James standing over him, a pistol in one hand. James met her eyes and gave her a little smile.

‘Thank heavens we did not have to jump into the pool to rescue you.’

She shifted around to look at Luke. ‘How—how did you know?’

‘Billy came to find me—’

Sir Gilbert raised his head. ‘Impossible. He’s dead.’

‘No, he is very much alive,’ retorted Luke, nodding towards the door where Billy stood, legs slightly apart, looking belligerent. ‘Reed thought he had disposed of him, but my man is not so easy to kill.’

Carlotta reached up to touch Luke’s hand. ‘I wrote a note. I thought you had sent for me…’ Her voice trailed off and she began to shiver.

Luke helped her to her feet. ‘There will be time for talking later. Take Mattingwood back to the house and secure him, James. Billy will help you.’

‘You are not coming?’

Luke swung Carlotta up into his arms. ‘No. I must get her warm, and quickly. I do not care if that villain catches a deadly chill, but I’ll not risk Carlotta. Tell her maid to pack up some dry clothes for her mistress and send them down in the carriage.’

James nodded. ‘Very well, brother.’ He reached out to grab the back of Sir Gilbert’s collar. ‘Come along. It’s Newgate for you, my man—and a fate far worse than being shunned by society, I think.’

He dragged Sir Gilbert to his feet while Luke carried Carlotta through the doors to the inner room. It was very dark, only moonlight from the high windows and a faint glow from the dying fire illuminating the furniture, but Luke did not hesitate. He walked swiftly across the room and gently laid Carlotta down on one of the couches.

‘First, we need some light, then we must get you out of those wet clothes.’

Dazed, Carlotta watched as he pushed a taper into the embers and proceeded to light the candles. Soon a golden glow illuminated the disordered room. It was still littered with the remains of the gentlemen’s dinner party. Dishes, bottles and glasses covered the side tables. Luke moved to one of the chests and pulled out a large bathsheet and a brightly patterned dressing gown. ‘Here, take these. I will make up the fire; we shall soon have you dry again—and me.’ He grinned as he dragged off his frockcoat and threw it over a chair. ‘Just carrying you in here has soaked through my coat.’

Carlotta struggled with the buttons of her spencer while he crouched before the hearth, feeding the glowing embers with kindling and small logs.

‘That’s better.’

She glanced at the flames leaping upwards in the hearth. She had managed to remove her spencer, but was still struggling to unlace her sodden boots. She was shaking so much that her fingers would not work; they felt clumsy and terribly weak. Luke came across to sit beside her.

‘Here, let me do that.’ Gently he lifted her foot onto his knee, deftly loosened the laces and tossed the boot on to the floor. ‘I have had years of practice at removing a lady’s clothing,’ he said lightly, lifting her other foot. ‘One learns it from an early age, if one aspires to be a rake.’ The second boot followed its partner to the floor. He glanced up, a hint of a smile in his eyes, but she could not respond to it. Silently he pushed aside the wet skirts and gently moved his hand up to remove the silk stocking. She noticed how his fingers trembled as he tugged at her garter, but they did
not linger. As soon as the ribbon came loose he quickly stripped off her pink stockings. ‘Can you stand?’ he asked her gently. ‘We need to remove your gown.’

Obedient to the pressure of his hand on her arm, she rose. ‘I am afraid I have ruined the couch,’ she murmured, looking down at the damp mark where she had been sitting.

‘It makes no odds, there are plenty more in here. Turn around for me.’

Soon gown, stays and chemise were all removed and Carlotta was wrapped in the heavy brocade dressing gown. It was much too big for her and crumpled in thick folds around her feet.

Luke removed the remaining pins from her hair and spread it over her shoulders. He paused, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. ‘You look a veritable urchin, Miss Rivington.’

For the first time that evening Carlotta managed a little smile.

‘You are still shivering.’ Luke pushed her gently down onto the rug. ‘Sit there, the heat will soon warm you.’

She looked up at him. ‘You will not leave me?’

He hesitated, then dropped down beside her. ‘I am here as long as you need me.’ He put his hands on her shoulders and, twisting her away from him, began to comb his fingers through her hair, lifting and separating the tresses so that they splayed across her back. Carlotta sighed. The combined effects of the fire and Luke’s gentle caresses began to relieve the tension in her muscles. She could even think about the events of the evening.

‘So Sir Gilbert was responsible for all the horrid things that have happened?’

‘Yes. He attacked your father and sent his man to set fire
to their house and to loosen the wheel on the gig. Reed confessed it to us when we went looking for you.’

She sighed. ‘All because of a painting. And he was willing to—to kill rather than lose face?’

‘Mattingwood lost what little fortune he had at the gaming tables and now exists on the goodwill of his fellows. To be pronounced a fraudster would ruin him.’

She began to shake again. ‘D-despicable man.’

His hands rested on her shoulders. ‘He is gone now,
cara
. You are safe.’

‘I know it.’ She dropped her cheek on his hand and rubbed it gently, closing her eyes. Luke’s grip tightened. He was very close behind her, so close that when she leaned back she found herself resting against him, the ruffles of his shirt pressing on her hair. She felt rather than heard his ragged sigh.

‘Carlotta.’ His breath was warm on her cheek. ‘Carlotta, I—what the devil is that noise?’

Carlotta, too, heard a commotion in the outer room—voices and swift, heavy footsteps, growing ever closer. The door flew open and she smothered a gasp. There in the doorway stood Daniel Woollatt.

‘I
n heaven’s name, what are you doing here?’ demanded Luke, helping Carlotta to her feet.

Mr Woollatt pointed at Carlotta, a look of horror on his face. ‘More to the point, my lord—why is Miss Rivington dressed in that—that—?’

‘It is a gentleman’s dressing gown,’ explained Carlotta. ‘My own clothes are too wet, you see.’

James slipped into the room, carrying a portmanteau. ‘It is as I told you, Woollatt. Mattingwood tried to drown Miss Rivington.’ He gave his brother an apologetic look. ‘Woollatt arrived just as I got back, Luke. He insisted upon coming with me.’

Luke nodded and looked again at Mr Woollatt. ‘I am sorry, then, that you had to return to such bad news.’

‘I was never more shocked in my life,’ said Mr Woollatt heavily. He was still staring at Carlotta. ‘You came down here
alone
?’

Carlotta found herself blushing. ‘It was very foolish of me, I know, but thankfully Mr Ainslowe and Lord Darvell arrived in time—’

‘Ainslowe tells me you thought you were meeting Darvell here.’

‘Yes, I had written a note, you see—’

‘A note?’ Even in the candlelight she could see the vein in Woollatt’s temple was standing out. He was clearly very annoyed. ‘What in heaven’s name possessed you to do such a thing? You are an unmarried lady, you should not be writing notes to a gentleman. One, moreover, of Lord Darvell’s reputation.’

Carlotta blinked. ‘It was very urgent; I needed to tell him—’

‘You should have gone to your aunt and explained the situation. And then to compound your folly by stealing out to keep an assignation—!’

Carlotta stared at him. A sharp retort arose to her lips, but she felt the pressure of Luke’s hand on her shoulder.

He said coldly, ‘Surely at this stage you should be expressing your relief that Miss Rivington is safe.’

‘Well, I am thankful for that, of course, but such unbecoming behaviour—I am deeply shocked.’ He shook his head, a look of distaste twisting his countenance. ‘Not only that—Ainslowe was obliged to tell me of…your parentage.’

Carlotta’s head went up at that. ‘Indeed?’ And just what is wrong with my
parentage
?’

‘I do not think you need me to tell you,’ retorted Mr Woollatt. ‘A runaway match, and to an artist, no less! I must say, madam, I think you have been less than honest with me.’

Luke took a step forward. ‘Miss Riv—Miss Durini’s lineage may be a little unusual, but it is perfectly respectable. Lord Broxted would not be sponsoring her if he was in any doubt of it.’

‘I am well aware of that!’ replied Mr Woollatt testily. ‘But
there is something repellent about the way this matter has been handled. What my mother will say when I tell her—and it will have to be explained to her—I dread to think.’

Carlotta heard Luke’s angry hiss, saw his hands form themselves into fists and she quickly touched his arm, giving him the tiniest shake of her head.

‘You are quite right, Mr Woollatt,’ she said quietly, stepping forward. ‘It would have been much better if I had been honest with you from the outset. I have no doubt that your mother would be most distressed to learn the truth about my—my family. Indeed, I am sure she would find such a connection most abhorrent. It is not to be thought of. Perhaps it would be best if you told her that it had all been a misunderstanding, that there is no engagement.’ She drew the diamond ring from her finger and held it out to him.

There was a long silence. Carlotta knew that Luke, James and Mr Woollatt were staring at her and it took all her willpower to remain still, her arm outstretched. At last, with a little nod, Mr Woollatt reached out and took the ring. It was only then that Carlotta realised she had been holding her breath. Now she exhaled as quietly as she could, hoping it would not sound too much like a sigh of relief.

‘Perhaps we were a little hasty,’ muttered Mr Woollatt. ‘But all is not lost, nothing has been announced yet. We will take a little time to consider.’ He pursed his lips and looked thoughtful. ‘Perhaps next Season I shall bring my mother to town and introduce you to her. Naturally, she will find it hard to forgive you for crying off, but once you are acquainted, and if you behave with becoming modesty, I have no doubt she will warm to you in time.’

She forced a smile and was grateful to be spared a reply when James stepped forward, saying in a hearty voice,
‘Well, then, if that’s settled I think we should all drive back to the house. I have dry clothes for you here in this bag, Miss Riv—I mean, Miss Durini.’

Luke took the portmanteau. ‘You go on, James, and take Woollatt with you. Miss Durini is still very pale. I would not risk taking her into the night air just yet. You may send the carriage down later to collect us.’

A look passed between the two brothers; Carlotta saw it and a little voice in her head urged her to protest, to say that she was perfectly well enough for the short journey to the house. But it was a very
little
voice and easily silenced. James was already at the door.

‘Yes, of course. Come along, Woollatt. Come back to the Court with me. I have a fine cognac in my study that is just the thing for these occasions.’ He ushered Woollatt out of the door before him.

‘James!’

‘Yes, Luke?’

‘Do not rush to send the carriage back.’

James looked towards Carlotta.

She reached up to touch the dark locks curling over her shoulders. ‘It would be most unwise for me to venture out of doors with my hair still wet.’

His knowing grin made her cheeks burn. ‘As you wish, then.’

Carlotta did not move. She listened to the voices dying away, heard the outer door slam, then there was silence. At length Luke spoke to her.

‘You are very pale.’

‘Yes.’

‘If I pull a chair closer to the fire, will you sit down?’

She nodded, and watched him drag a velvet-covered sofa to the very edge of the rug.

‘This might help.’ He went across to the side table and poured her a glass of wine from one of the open bottles. ‘The servants will not come in until it is light. We may as well make use of what is here.’ He came back and sat beside her, handing her the glass. ‘Now, drink it.’

His arm was about her shoulders. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to lean back against him.

‘Your hair would dry quicker if you were to kneel before the fire again.’

‘But this is so much more comfortable.’ She took a sip from the glass. The wine was dark and warm and tasted of berries. ‘Do you think he will?’

‘What?’

‘Introduce me to his mama next Season.’

‘Very likely, but you will be Lady Darvell by then.’

Carlotta was in the act of taking another sip of wine and choked. She was obliged to hand the glass to Darvell, who placed it carefully down on the floor beside the sofa.

‘Are—are you asking me to marry you?’ she asked when she could command her voice.

‘No, my sweet life, I am informing you that we will be married, even if I have to drag you screaming to the altar.’

Her lips twitched. ‘What about my—um—unfortunate birth?’

‘There is nothing unfortunate about your birth. Your father is a great artist. I only hope he will think me worthy of his daughter. I have very little fortune, as you have reminded me on several occasions.’

She blushed at that. ‘It was very bad of me to throw that up at you. I am ashamed of myself.’

His arm tightened around her. ‘I had hurt you. I did not understand how much.’

‘That day last summer…’ She began to play with the cord of her dressing gown. ‘Did you—were you going to propose to me?’

‘Yes, until I heard Broxted offer to take you away with him. I thought you deserved a taste of society.’

A great wave of unhappiness rushed through her. She bowed her head. ‘I was so miserable! I d-did not wish to go and live with my uncle. I—I thought you did not l-love me.’

With something very like a growl he gripped her shoulders, pulling her round to face him. ‘Not love you—do you know what it cost me to leave Malberry that day? I felt as though I was cutting out my own heart!’

Carlotta looked up. His eyes scorched her; she trembled under the intensity of his look. She wanted to reach out to him, to pull him closer and feel his lips on hers but he continued to hold her at arm’s length, to subject her to that burning gaze. ‘I left Malberry and buried myself on my estates, taking charge of them as I should have done years ago. I wanted to be prepared, so that when Broxted brought you to town I would have something more to offer you than a mountain of debts. And I succeeded, too. Darvell Manor is beginning to pay its way, the land is in good heart, the tenants prospering—but all the time I was there I lived in dread that you might find someone else, that I would be too late.’

Carlotta blinked rapidly, determined not to cry. ‘There was never anyone else,’ she said simply. She reached up and gently touched his cheek. ‘I have never loved anyone but you, Luke.’

He turned his face towards her hand, pressing his lips
to the palm, then in one swift movement, he gathered her into his arms and kissed her.

All Carlotta’s pent-up longing of the past twelve months was released. She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him back hungrily, responding to the demands of his mouth, her lips parting willingly to allow his tongue to explore ever deeper. Her body pressed itself against him and they slid from the sofa until they were kneeling together on the rug. Luke broke away, but only to ease her down on to her back, all the time holding her gaze, mesmerising, willing her to trust him. She answered him with a tremulous smile and he kissed her again, but this time it was slow and languorous, melting away the tensions in her body. His teeth grazed her bottom lip and she almost groaned at the intense, sweet desire that welled up inside her.

Luke tugged at the cord around her waist and the dressing gown fell free. She trembled as he touched her naked waist. Gently he moved his hand upwards, smoothing over her ribs and on until he was cupping her breast, which tightened beneath his fingers. His thumb began to circle the nipple, and a wave of pure heat began to build within her. Her bones seemed to melt as she arched her back, offering herself up to him. He kissed her chin, then her throat, his tongue leaving a burning line on her skin as it trailed downwards. His hand was still fondling one breast, and when his mouth fastened over the other she gasped at the unexpected surge of pleasure. His tongue circled the taut bud at its peak, causing the wave of heat that had been building inside her to grow stronger, threatening to overwhelm her. So intoxicating were the sensations he was awaking in her that as she felt his hand moving down over her belly she felt only growing excitement. Her eyes flew
open as his fingers moved between her legs, easing her apart. She was very hot down there, and moist. Her body was pulsing, opening to receive him. She had never felt so out of control before, but there was no panic; Luke was holding her, his hand gently stroking her; and her body responded of its own accord to the rhythm of his caresses.

Sighing deeply, Carlotta opened her eyes for a moment. She looked up at the painted walls of the room. Suddenly the pictures made sense to her, the men and women touching each other, pleasuring each other. Her eyes dwelled on one particular couple: the woman was crouched between the man’s legs, her head bowed over him while he lay with his head thrown back in ecstasy at her touch. Gently Carlotta pulled Luke’s head from her breast. Immediately those pleasuring fingers on her body stilled and he looked at her, a question in his eyes.

‘You are still dressed, sir.’ Was this her voice she could hear? It was unfamiliar, deeper, richer. An exultant wave of wanton happiness bubbled up inside her. She tugged at his shirt, helping him to pull it over his head, then with eager hands she unbuttoned the fall flap of his breeches.

Luke gave a shaky laugh. ‘Careful, sweetheart. There is no rush.’

Oh, but there is
, she thought, her groin aching for him to touch her again with those magic fingers. As he slipped off the rest of his clothes she struggled free of the brocade dressing gown, wondering at her daring as she lay before him, naked. Luke was on his knees, staring down at her.

‘Is—is anything wrong, my lord?’ A little doubt shook her.

‘Nothing is wrong, sweetheart. You are so very beautiful.’

She reached out for him, but he caught her hands.

‘If you want me to stop, if you want to wait until our
wedding night for our first full union, you must tell me now.’ He added with an attempt at humour, ‘I can cool off in the plunge pool.’

His voice was unsteady and Carlotta’s heart swelled with love at his concern for her. She pulled one hand free and reached up to place her palm on his smooth cheek. ‘You held back once before and I almost lost you,’ she said softly.

Still he did not move. ‘After this there will be no going back,’ he warned her. ‘You will be mine, body and soul.’

‘And will that be the same for you, my lord?’

‘I am already yours, Carlotta.’

His slow smile reassured her and, when she saw how aroused he was, her desire returned to fever pitch. She pulled him down to her and kissed him, but even as he leaned into her she twisted around, pushing him on to his back. The surprise in his eyes gave her another rush of pleasure. She began to kiss him, her hands caressing his body, then, remembering his effect on her, she began to work her way downwards, planting gentle kisses on his throat and the hard smooth skin of his chest. His long, slow sigh made her feel all-powerful. She revelled in the taste of his flesh, the enticing mixture of spicy, aromatic fragrance and clean male skin that inflamed her senses. She explored him with her hands and her eyes, marvelling at this male body that was as beautiful, exciting and strange to her as a foreign land. The crisp hair below his navel tickled her as she kissed his flat stomach while her hands continued to caress him. She heard Luke gasp. He gave a little groan and with an exultant laugh she glanced up again at the wall-painting. She ran her tongue around her lips. It was only fair that she should give Luke as much pleasure as he had given her.