All About Seduction(127)

The door rattled.

“Bloody hell,” muttered Jack as he pushed her down and shielded her with his body. “Don’t move. Mrs. Goode is back.”

The danger of discovery rushed back fourfold. If Mr. Broadhurst ever learned she was with Jack . . .

Caroline tiptoed down the silent hall and retrieved her room key from the pocket of her cloak. Wincing every time it clicked against the metal of the lock, she turned it and whirled inside her room.

It was wrong. A lamp she hadn’t lit burned. Her heart jumped to her throat. Dreading what she would see, she slowly turned. The connecting door to her husband’s room was open, and he sat in one of the armchairs.

“I provide you with gentlemen and you lay with that ill bred cur.” Mr. Broadhurst’s low voice cut through her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She drew herself up. “I couldn’t sleep. I went for a walk.”

Her mind spun trying to come up with an explanation for locking the doors. How long had Mr. Broadhurst known she was gone?

He closed the gap between them and caught her arms in a bruising grip. “Is that child his?”

“Unhand me.”

He shook her until her teeth rattled. “I saw you with him. Not hard to identify a lame man from a distance.”

Jack had used his crutches, rather than strap on his brace when he escorted her back after Mrs. Goode went upstairs to her quarters. Caroline’s knees buckled. What had she done?

“Is it?” demanded Mr. Broadhurst.

“He reminded me of you, or at least how I imagined you must have been when you were young.”

His hand connected with her face with a resounding clap. Caroline spun away with the force of his blow and tasted the coppery tang of blood in her mouth. With her tongue, she probed at her teeth, making sure they were all in place.

“He is nothing but a useless cripple. Our baby could be born with a shriveled leg.”

She straightened. “That is the most ignorant thing I have ever heard.”

“How could he remind you of me? I was not living in my father’s house at his age, I had my own.” Mr. Broadhurst paced the room, for once moving fast.

“You said yourself, he is intelligent with good business instincts.”

“How could you do this to me?” he demanded.

“I do this ‘to you’!” Incredulity exploded out of her. She followed him and poked him in the chest when he turned at the wall. “You did this. You put me in the most god-awful position.” She poked again. “No gentleman in the world would have asked this of a faithful wife. You are a knave and aren’t fit to wipe his feet.”

Her husband stared at her with such coldness, her insides turned to liquid. Oh God, she had to get word to Jack.

“Don’t you dare think of harming him.”

“I wouldn’t dirty my hands.” His gaze turned distant, calculating.

His reassurance left her cold. He might not sully his own hands, but he would have no compunction about others getting their hands dirty in his stead. How could she get Jack away from here?

“Oh!” She put her hand to her belly and doubled over.

Mr. Broadhurst didn’t make a move.

“Ow!” Caroline reached out, grabbing his arm as if she were in agony. “Something is wrong.”

“If you lose that baby, I will have no use for you,” said Broadhurst. He shot his cuffs. He had likely never undressed. “I will send for the doctor.”

“No! The midwife is closer.” She grabbed her belly with both hands. Forcing hard fast breaths in and out, Caroline managed a fairly credible moan. “Send for Mrs. Goode, ple-ease.”

Instead of leaving the room to find a servant, her husband walked to the bellpull and yanked it.

When Jack opened the door to Caroline’s stricken maid, his heart jolted. He knew he had been too rough with Caroline and now she was having pains and summoning Mrs. Goode.

Mrs. Goode departed with her satchel, and he strapped on his brace and followed. The darkness would cloak him, and if he waited in the shadows just at the edge of trees he could learn the news as soon as Mrs. Goode exited the house.

Oh God, she couldn’t lose the baby. It would destroy her. He’d watched her over the last few months. When she thought no one was looking, she would put a hand against her stomach and a Madonna-like smile would cross her face. If he had caused a miscarriage, he’d never forgive himself.