Chapter Five
When Sterling woke in the darkness, he lay in bed for a moment, rather disoriented as to where he was. Then he recalled that he was in his boyhood bedchamber and, if it was not for the moon’s reflection through the window, he’d be in complete darkness.
How late was it?
Sterling pushed the covers aside and sat up in bed before he turned and placed his feet on the floor, his toes and heels cushioned by a thick, plush rug that he remembered as being woven into various shades of blue.
The last thing he recalled was being overcome with exhaustion after he had bathed. He had crawled into bed with the intention of taking a short nap.
His stomach rumbled and tightened.
Had he missed dinner?
Sterling rose and padded across the room to the dresser where he had left his pocket watch then returned to the window so that he might note the time.
“Bloody hell!” It was just past one-thirty in the morning, which meant he had been asleep for…when had he come up here?
They had tea at three, because that was the hour his mother had always taken tea.
They had spoken for nearly an hour and then he had bathed.
Even if he hadn’t fallen asleep until six, he had still slumbered for seven and a half hours.
After his stomach grumbled again, Sterling pulled on some trousers, then his banyan, leaving it open because of the stifling warmth in his room. Besides, there was no reason to be properly dressed. First, he was in his own home and second, everyone was likely asleep.
Sterling lit a candle, slipped on the smoking shoes he’d left at the side of the bed, and exited his chamber with every intention of visiting the kitchens in hopes of finding something to eat, even if it was only some bread and jam, which would do until it was time to break his fast.
Except, once he reached the foot of the stairs and turned down the corridor, he stopped.
A very soft light brightened the floor beneath the door to his office.
Was Hallaway working in the middle of the night? Was there too much estate work for him to complete during the day? Or had he been neglectful of his duties and was hurrying to bring his records and accounting current before they met tomorrow?
Sterling lit the candle in the bronze wall sconce behind him and slowly walked toward the door, thankful that he was not in boots, but a softer sole so that he might surprise the person on the other side of the door, not giving them a chance to come up with an excuse to save a position.
However, when the floorboard squeaked beneath his foot, Sterling paused and waited.
He hoped that he had not been heard and in case he had, he waited to see if Hallaway would come to investigate.
When there was no movement beyond the door, nor did he hear anyone, Sterling then placed his hand on the round knob in the center of the door and pushed it open before he stepped inside and turned toward the desk.
Seated behind, a lamp illuminating the parchment before her, dark curls falling over one shoulder, and staring at him with wide eyes was Caroline. Not her father.
“Mrs. Sutcliffe, what are you doing in my house at this hour?”
*
Caroline couldn’t think. She couldn’t speak.
It wasn’t for the lack of a ready excuse.
It was because Wyndham was barely dressed.
The candle he held cast shadows upon his face and enhanced the definition and sharpness of his high cheekbones and the perfection of his straight, narrow and well-defined nose usually only seen on Greek statues.
He was far more handsome than he’d been earlier, with his thick hair tousled from what she assumed had been slumber and light scruff along his jaw and chin.
Wyndham also wasn’t wearing a shirt and his banyan had come open revealing his muscular chest and flat, hard stomach.
Caroline blinked and her mouth went dry.
“Mrs. Sutcliffe,” he prompted when she had failed to answer his question.
“I…” She looked at the parchment before her, the quill, and ink stains on her fingertips. What could she tell him?
“I did not expect you to be awake so early, Lord Wyndham,” she said.
“Is that your way of claiming that you would not be here if you thought anyone was about?” he inquired with an edge to his tone.
Yes, she wanted to answer. “I am just surprised, that is all.”
“You still have not answered my question, Mrs. Sutcliffe.”
He was every bit the employer, though her father’s, demanding an explanation, which she had ready.
“I was preparing the reports for my father,” she answered as she looked at him again.
“His handwriting is no longer neat because of pains in his fingers.” That part was true.
“However, as I can still read what he has written, I recopy the reports and accounting into a neater hand for presentation to you. I had not had an opportunity to do so before you arrived today. I intended to have them finished by the end of the week when they were to be sent on a packet to England.”
Wyndham frowned and she feared that he might doubt her excuse. She hadn’t told a complete falsehood; she just had not been completely honest.
“I had noticed the change in penmanship a few years back. I assumed your father had hired a secretary, though found it odd that there were no wages paid to one.”
“I do this as a favor to him and so that you have legible documents to review.” She smiled in hopes that he would accept her response without further questions.
Wyndham studied her, his blue eyes slightly narrowed as if he were trying to decide if he were going to believe her.
“Why are you awake so early, Lord Wyndham?” she asked in hope that a change in topic would cause him to abandon his current line of inquiry.
“I am hungry.” He pushed his fingers through his already disheveled hair. “I had not meant to sleep so long when I took a rest earlier and find I missed dinner completely. Given that I have already slept longer than I usually do, it is unlikely that I will be able to return to slumber.”
Her heart pounded. He must go back to bed. She had work to finish, even though she was near the end.
Wyndham placed a hand against his stomach.
Was he in pain? Had he gone too long without food?
From what she viewed beneath his open banyan, it appeared that Wyndham ate exactly what he needed.
While there was no extra flesh, he certainly was not emaciated either. Not overly muscled and finely formed.
Goodness!
The room had suddenly grown warm and her body heated with a desire she had thought died along with her husband. Instead, it had only gone dormant and now her body tingled with awareness. She truly believed such pleasures were behind her, as they should be, but apparently, they were not.
Lust!
She hadn’t lusted after anyone, except for her husband. Back then, he had introduced her to the delights of the marriage bed and Caroline had assumed those desires were only for him.
Apparently, that was not accurate because she was currently lusting after the Earl of Wyndham and she must stop immediately.
“I am certain that you will be able to find something in the kitchen or perhaps the larder.” Caroline smiled.
“Please, do not let me keep you.” She needed him to go.
Not only because she had work to finish, but them being alone in a darkened room with only a few candles lit to chase the shadows while Wyndham was only partially dressed, was rather intimate.
She needed her concentration to be on the report and not his chest, and flat abdomen where a line of hair disappeared into his trousers, leading to…
Caroline blinked and tried to focus on his face and not think about his partially clad body.
“Yes, well, I will leave you to your work.”
Yet, he stood there, studying her.
And she could not look away from him.