Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Fitz thought the evening had gone splendidly!
Well, he temporized as he lay back against his pillows, perhaps splendidly was overstating the matter a bit.
Baccarat was always amusing, and tonight had been no different once his old stick-in-the-mud of a father had taken himself off to bed.
And though the bets had been large and the play deep, as it always was with his set, no one had lost the ancestral pile or found they’d inadvertently gambled away their sister’s dowry and the right to her hand, or whatever melodramatic nonsense Father imagined.
Fitz crossed his arms behind his head and pictured the unhappy look Caroline had sported through most of the evening.
He’d been aware of her all the time, even when he wasn’t looking at her, as though she’d tied a string to his ribs that tugged taut every time she moved.
He wasn’t sure he altogether enjoyed the sensation, any more than she had appeared to enjoy the party once Father got through his diatribe about the evils of gambling.
Perhaps what made Fitz uncomfortable was the lingering burn of shame at the way his father had spoken to him in front of his friends—or at his own reaction, which he could not help but think somewhat childish as he replayed it silently in the dark of his room.
He didn’t wish to be always at odds with his father, whom Fitz truly did admire and love.
He didn’t relish forever being cast in the role of the scapegrace ne’er-do-well, and it occurred to Fitz in a prickling rush of shame that he had a distressing tendency to attempt to live down to his father’s expectations, rather than rising above and showing him that Fitz was made of better stuff.
Quite possibly Fitz wasn’t made of better stuff. But perhaps, while Father still held the purse strings, Fitz should at least pretend.
Only tonight, he’d so wanted Caroline to have fun. And instead, he’d squabbled ingloriously with his father and she’d spent the evening no doubt fretting that her mother was about to lose her widow’s portion to a roll of the dice.
Frustrated and cast down by the turn of his thoughts, Fitz made an effort to think of something else. He needed to sleep. He needed to stop mulling over his strained relationship with his father and relax. Perhaps…
Fitz closed his eyes and called up an image of Caroline as he had never seen her—but, oh, how he wished to.
With her wild hair tumbling around her bare shoulders in a cascade of white gold, the long, slow blink of her violet eyes as she gazed up at him through her fair lashes.
The tremble of her pale pink mouth, the catch of her sharp little teeth in the plush softness of her lower lip.
Fitz felt his cock thicken and swell, throbbing against his thigh.
Lights burst in the darkness behind his closed lids as he slowly slid one hand beneath the covers, savoring the anticipation, down, down…
“Are you sleeping?”
Fitz’s eyes popped open, instantly tracking the outraged whisper to the foot of his bed, where Caroline stood in her nightrail, arms akimbo and eyes blazing in the light of the moon slanting in through the window.
Perversely, Fitz felt his arousal surge hotly even as he hastily withdrew his hand and hissed, “What in blazes are you doing in here? If someone catches you—”
She rolled her eyes impatiently. “No one is about in the halls; I waited until our fellow guests had finished reorganizing their sleeping arrangements for the night. Do you know, I think the Hon Tommy is carrying on an affaire with both Lord and Lady Kildare?”
The scandalous tidbit, delivered with cool unconcern by Caroline’s sweet voice, made Fitz’s entire head feel as if he’d put his face too close to the fire grate.
Determined to match her insouciance, Fitz lounged back against the headboard and casually raised one knee to drape the sheets more concealingly over his lap. “The secret to a happy marriage, Lady Kildare always says, is to invite a guest into it from time to time. I suppose you find that shocking.”
Caroline blinked. “Not at all. In the animal kingdom, the propensity to mate for life with a single other creature is by far the minority. Most birds, for example, only mate for a single season, to breed.”
The invisible fire drew closer, licking at Fitz’s skin and suffusing his limbs with a heavy tension. To breed. God almighty.
“But that is not the point.” Caroline scowled and crossed her arms over her chest in a way that drew the thin cotton lawn of her night dress taut over her breasts. Fitz swallowed a groan of pure lust.
“The point,” she continued, relentless, “is that you seem to have forgotten what we are here at this silly house party to accomplish! We are not here to play parlor games and indulge in flirtations, we are here to induce your father to propose to my mother, and to ensure she says ‘yes’ when he does so. That is all.”
Distracted from his aching prick for a moment, Fitz frowned back at her.
So it hadn’t been just that she’d been swayed by Father’s fear-mongering about baccarat?
Fitz felt honestly a bit stung by her characterization of the party.
It was almost as though she didn’t think it was any more fun here with his friends than it had been in London with the stodgy society matrons.
“I beg your pardon, but I don’t see how I have failed so particularly badly.
And besides, we have a week. It’s only the first night! ”
“A night in which you abandoned me at dinner after your so-called friends made Mama and me out to be uncultured bumpkins! Most likely to establish dominance, an act of preemptive aggression I’ve observed throughout the animal kingdom.
As though I would care to challenge Lady Rosalie for her position at the apex of the social hierarchy of this gathering of fools.
Ugh. The only interesting thing at that dinner was the pineapple and pomegranate centerpiece; I should love to see the orangerie where they were grown.
And then, if all that wasn’t enough, you allowed your father to slink off to bed while my mother remained behind to be charmed by Lord Weatherby! ”
Caroline threw her hands up. “I’ve lost all confidence in this plan. Perhaps I’d be better off hoping my mother falls in love with Lord Weatherby instead of your father. Surely he would do just as well.”
“He would not!” Fitz sat up so quickly, the sheet slipped. He didn’t even have time to be gratified by the way Caroline’s gaze instantly dropped to his bare chest. He needed to nip this in the bud. “Lord Weatherby would make a terrible husband.”
“I suppose he is quite a bit older, but I thought everyone at this party was a friend of yours.”
Fitz struggled for a way to explain that his friends, though diverting, were not people he would be comfortable recommending for serious purposes like matrimony.
“Yes, he is a friend, one of the old guard, you know…which is how I know that he is an inveterate gambler and perpetually low on funds. By any chance, has your mother an income of her own?”
Looking taken aback, Caroline pressed her lips together briefly.
“Yes, in fact. My father was was knighted for his work in the field of ornithology, and he left Mama a tidy sum. And there is also what she will inherit one day from Lord Agnew’s estate, when my grandmother is done with it.
I wouldn’t have thought it enough to tempt a fortune hunter, but… ”
Fitz shrugged, relaxing a bit as the doubt crept into Caroline’s tone.
“Weatherby isn’t a terribly pragmatic sort of person.
Quite likely he thinks your mother’s myriad other charms shall compensate, and whatever money she has is more than he’s currently got.
If that’s the sort of marriage you’re after for Lady Quick… ”
“You know it isn’t. My parents were true partners.
They relied upon one another. I cannot imagine her being happy with anything less.
And no matter how badly I need her settled so I can return to my work, I cannot in good conscience allow her to throw herself away on a man who only wants her for her money. ”
“Upon my word, I’ve never heard anyone speak so fondly in regards to work.”
He hadn’t meant anything much by the remark but Caroline bristled as though he’d accused her of something unconscionable.
Her small, pointed chin tilted up aggressively.
“Oh, I’m quite certain no one you know would be involved in anything like gainful employment.
I’ve never seen so many people working so hard to pretend they aren’t bored out of their minds.
No curiosity, no learning, no interests outside of cards and drinking and pointless intrigues. What a waste.”
The remark, and the contemptuous twist of her mouth, caught Fitz on the raw. “And what, pray tell, should we be doing instead?”
He asked it with all the supercilious sarcasm he could muster, but beneath it, he was aware he’d stopped breathing for a moment. As though he hoped she might have an answer.
Something to do. Something that mattered.
Had she heard the silent catch in his breath? Caroline’s hard expression softened a bit. Grasping one of the tall posters at the foot of the bed, she pulled herself up and perched on the coverlet. The warmth of her seeped through the layers of cloth that draped Fitz’s bare feet.