Chapter Seven #2
His arms wrapped around her, dragging her close against his hard body, and his mouth pressed back, opening and moving on hers with sudden, desperate strength.
Her stomach dived, and passion bombarded her, hot and arousing.
His hand stroked down her back, over her waist and the curve of her hip and his mouth invaded hers until she felt them fusing together, lips and tongue and teeth.
He groaned softly into her mouth, and she felt his lips stretch into a smile on hers. “Oh, Cara, give me strength for this...” His hands slid up to her shoulders and he pushed her away. “I will come back. Goodbye!”
And before she could catch her breath, let alone speak, he whisked himself out of the front door and closed it abruptly in her face.
For a long moment, she stared at the door in desolation.
He has gone. I failed.
Desolation swamped her. Without intending it, she returned to the parlour and pushed back the curtain. She was just in time to see him in the distance, striding jauntily toward the end of the road as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
Behind her, Papa woke with a snort. “Oh. Has he gone?”
“Yes, Papa. He has gone.”
WHATEVER HE HAD SAID, she knew he would not be back.
Her declaration of love, throwing herself into his arms, had not been enough.
Cringing, she was sure she had instead given him a disgust of her.
Gentlemen expected decorum from their wives and Carina had behaved like a—a strumpet!
She had killed any chance of love between them, and the unforgivable thing about it all was that she had known all along she had no chance with him.
She could at least have kept her dignity.
It was hard dragging herself through the next day, knowing he had left town for his party.
Without more than housework and cooking to do, she had too much time on her hands to think.
It was a relief to welcome Papa home for the evening meal, but he proved to be tired and restless, and inclined to snap.
His eyes strayed more than once to the empty decanter, and every time he stood up, she feared he was about to go to the alehouse.
He didn’t, which was a triumph for him. She had always known there would be particularly difficult days in this fight, but that he was still winning gave her something to be glad of when she went to bed and tried not to think of Durward.
It came to her yet again that she needed employment to fill her days and give herself a financial and personal independence. So as soon as she had prepared Papa a quick breakfast, she sought out the old newspaper and was searching through the advertisements when he came downstairs.
If he noticed, he said nothing, merely drank his tea, ate, and departed.
An hour or so later, when she had dressed and cleared up and was wondering what the devil to do with herself all day, she was surprised by a knock on the door and the delivery of a letter in an unknown hand, directed to Miss Jasper rather than to her father.
She managed to find a coin to pay for it and sat down in the parlour to read it with some curiosity.
At first, she thought there had been some mistake for it was signed by E.
Grandison, and the printed letterhead gave the address of a house called Grand Court.
She knew no such person or house, although for some reason the names seemed vaguely familiar.
Lady Mansel flashed into her mind, and the interminable letters connected to people at a party there.
Why on earth would such a person be writing to her?
But yes, it began, My dear Miss Jasper.
Carina read on.
I write to you without introduction having received your recommendation from my friend, Mrs. Baldeston. She speaks highly of you and has led me to believe you would consider genteel employment in my house.
I am in the unusual position of finding myself in charge of a parcel of godchildren, at least on a temporary basis while their sister takes a wedding journey with her husband.
In fact, before that I expect a houseful of guests attending the wedding which makes entertaining children, let alone caring for them or educating them, something of a challenge!
I cannot offer you a permanent post, if that is what you seek, but if a few months as governess to three lively children, perhaps with a few other light duties, would suit you, please reply to the above address at your earliest convenience.
Carina sat back in her chair, a surge of eager interest mounting within her.
This was exactly the sort of work she had imagined, if ever she could leave Papa.
Lady Grandison was the great hostess admired by Lady Mansel.
The Mrs. Baldeston who had recommended her must be Durward’s sister Bethany, though how or why the woman had spoken so highly of her was something of a mystery. That had to be Durward’s doing too.
For the first time since he had walked out of the door, a little warmth seeped into her soul. He had cared a little, enough to give her this very necessary helping hand.
She let the tide of longing wash over her. To leave Harwich and begin anew with new people, including those lively children... Her fingers itched to begin a reply to Lady Grandison right now. Only there was Papa.
She recalled his restlessness last night. She wondered if Lady Grandison might be prepared to wait a couple of weeks, even, until Papa could reach a more stable position without her... At any rate, she could not reply until she had at least spoken to him.
But when Papa came home, a little later than usual, she smelled the brandy on his breath as soon as she opened the door.
“I took a late commission,” he said apologetically. “I hope dinner has not spoiled.”
Oh Papa... Her disappointment was overwhelming. And yet Durward had warned her it would not be a steady road to recovery, that there might be relapses just at first. She need not despair just yet, though the post with Lady Grandison was drifting further away.
What else had Durward said? That she had to be firm, and that if she made conditions, she should keep to them. How did he know such things? Sweeping the last aside as of no moment, she brought dinner to the dining room and took her usual place.
“You did not work late, Papa, did you?” she said. “You went to the tavern.”
“One brandy,” he snapped, and yet his eyes were apologetic. “I just felt the need of one, and a little congenial company after a hard day. It is not a crime, is it?”
“No, it is not a crime.” It was even understandable.
“And I left after one. I shall not let you down again, Carina.”
He sounded so reasonable and he was not remotely drunk, so she smiled at him.
“One drink on one evening is not a habit,” she agreed.
“It is just that alcohol is like poison to you now, and you know you should avoid it. I have some news, too. I received a letter today, offering me a position as governess...”
At first he looked relieved by the change of subject, but as she explained about the post and the recommendation by Durward’s sister, she saw the anxiety build in his eyes.
“You are considering it!” he accused, in accents of horror. “You would leave me!”
“It is only a few miles across the county,” she said, “and it is only a temporary position.”
“But I need you here,” he said. “You know I cannot cope without you.”
Grand Court and the lively children drifted further off over the horizon. She swallowed. She could not leave him after such an admission.
“Then I shall make a deal with you, Papa,” she said. “I shall not accept the position just yet, until you are more on your feet. But if you lapse, we will need my earnings to survive, and I shall take the post.”
His shoulders relaxed and he smiled. “Deal, my daughter. You are a good girl and this beef is excellent.”
With regret, she put Lady Grandison’s letter away in her desk drawer.
Perhaps she could write and ask for a fortnight’s grace, until both she and Papa were more confident in his abstinence.
But in truth, if she was all that kept him from the bottle, how could she ever leave him?
She had to put it from her mind, along with everything else associated with Lord Durward.
The next night, Papa came home very late. She had just put on her bonnet and cloak, ready to go and look for him, when he stumbled over the door, grinning at her.
“It was jusht a couple of brandies,” he slurred. “I’ll shtill be up and out the door early...”
She gave him his dinner, which he fell asleep over, and helped him upstairs to bed.
And tomorrow, it would be all to do again.
She lay awake for a long time, realizing what was happening. The first night, she had let it go, given an inch, and he had taken a mile. Tomorrow night she would have to pry him out of some drinking den, or she would find him on a heap on the doorstep.
It hurt to think she was not enough to keep him sober. She never had been and she never would be. Durward was right. It had to be his decision, and she wasn’t helping. She was giving him permission.
But dear God, what would happen to him if she wasn’t there to look after him?
Much the same as happened to him now when she was.
She tossed and turned for the rest of the night, dozing intermittently. She rose early and knocked loudly on her father’s door. He gave some kind of answer and she went downstairs to make tea and breakfast.
He didn’t come down for two hours, and he looked considerably the worse for wear. He met her steady gaze and awarded her a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I slipped a bit last night. No more. I’ll be home before dinner tonight.”
“I should think you’ll be home before midday, since you’ve left it so late.”
“Oh, there’s always something,” he said vaguely.
“I hope so,” she said. “I’ve decided to write to Lady Grandison and accept her offer. If I am too late, I shall be looking for a similar post.”
He blinked. “Don’t be silly, Carina. It was only a couple of drinks on one evening! What do you expect of me?”
“I need to look after myself. And I keep to my word.”
“Oh, pissy-patoot!” he said in disgust.
He slammed the door as he left.
Carina went back upstairs and took Lady Grandison’s letter from her desk drawer.