Seven Years to Sin(12)
“You’re returning to England for a longer stay?”
“Yes.” He looked forward again.
“I see.” Dear God, she sounded breathless once more. “Your family and friends will be delighted, I’m certain.”
Caulfield’s chest expanded on a deep breath.
Recalling that the family he’d left behind was halved now, she said hastily, “Your brothers …”
Jess’s head lowered. She regretted making him feel ill at ease, because she knew precisely how it felt to be continually reminded of what was forever lost to her.
He stopped beside the main mast. With a soft hand at her elbow, he urged her to halt as well.
She faced him. He took an unnecessary step closer. Near enough to dance. “I’m returning to England because the reason I stayed away no longer exists, and a reason to return has unexpectedly presented itself.”
Caulfield’s tone was intimate. Jess couldn’t help wondering if a woman was luring him back.
She nodded. “I will endeavor to be as useful to you as you’ll certainly be to me.”
“Thank you.” He hesitated, as if he considered saying something more. In the end, he held his tongue and gestured for her to continue walking. “You wished to discuss the transport of product from Calypso?”
“Whatever obligations Calypso has are now my obligations, and I should be aware of them. That was all I wished to say. I can bring up the matter with my steward. Please, pay me no mind.”
“I have the answers you seek. I want to be the one who provides them to you. Come to me with whatever you need.”
Glancing at him, she found him intently focused on her. “You must be a very busy man. I don’t wish to impose on your time unnecessarily.”
“You could never be an imposition. I would take great pleasure in seeing to whatever you may desire.”
“Very well,” she said quietly.
The warmth of Caulfield’s voice changed, taking on a slight edge. “Your tone suggests displeasure.”
As he’d done so long ago, he somehow managed to encourage Jess to speak more bluntly than she would have thought possible. “Though I’m grateful for your attentiveness, Mr. Caulfield, I am also weary of such consideration. I’m not a woman made of glass who is prone to shattering without care. I arranged this trip, in part, to distance myself from those who insist on treating me as if I am fragile.”
“I have no idea how to coddle a woman,” he said wryly. “If that was my aim, I would certainly fail miserably. In truth, having met your steward on several occasions, I suspect he might have difficulty being completely forthcoming with a female. I want you to possess all the facts. The only way to be certain you have confidence in my ability to see to your interests is to be the one who shows you the contracts and terms myself, and explains whatever might be confusing.”
His smile was filled with mischief. “I want to expose you. Not shield you.”
Her lips curved slightly. He was charming in his own wicked way.
“The hour grows late,” he said as they neared the companionway again. “Allow me to escort you back to your cabin?”
“Thank you.” She was startled to realize she enjoyed his company.
Once they reached her door, he sketched an abbreviated bow in the narrow space. “I bid you good night, Lady Tarley. Sweet dreams.”
He was gone before she could reply, leaving behind a rather marked emptiness in the space he’d occupied.
Chapter 3
Michael Sinclair, Viscount Tarley, found himself in front of the Regmont town house in Mayfair thirty minutes into the two-hour block of time in which Lady Regmont was known to be at home to callers. He dismounted before he could change his mind and passed the reins to the waiting footman, then took the steps up to the front door two at a time. He resisted the urge to check his cravat, which he’d styled modestly with a simple barrel knot. His anxiousness was extreme, to the point that he’d dithered over which of his waistcoats was the most attractive foil for the deep blue coat he wore for her, because she had once said blue was a very attractive color on his person.
In short order, he was announced into a drawing room holding half a dozen callers. Hester sat in a butter-colored wingback in the center of the assemblage, looking as fragile and beautiful as he had ever seen her.
“Lord Tarley,” she greeted, extending her hands to him without rising.
He crossed the oriental rug with swift strides and kissed the back of each pale, slender hand. “Lady Regmont. My day is brighter for having begun it in your presence.”
His pleasure would be dimmed when he left, as if he stepped out of the sunlight and into a shadow. He believed she was made for him, so much so he’d never once contemplated marrying anyone else. In his youth, he had thought it would be perfect for the Sinclair brothers to marry the Sheffield sisters and live parallel, harmonious lives. But Hadley had nursed grander plans for his daughters, and Michael’s position as second son was not of sufficient consequence even to bear consideration.
He’d never had a chance to have her.
To add insult to injury, Hester was denied even a proper Season, just as her sister had been. She was betrothed almost from the moment she was presented at court.
“I thought you had forgotten me,” she said to him. “It has been ages since you last called.”