All About Seduction(23)

“Ah.” Tremont took a step back. “I have touched a sore spot.”

Caroline looked down at her clasped hands. “I apologize. I do believe a woman is happiest in the home.” Malarky! “I just—” Her words halted. She could hint that she longed for babies, but it hardly seemed like the right course to seduce Lord Tremont. “I know Mr. Broadhurst considers me too softhearted, and I fear my actions today have only confirmed his suspicions.”

Good heavens, if she meant to convince Mr. Broadhurst to allow her to run the mill after he passed, child or no child, her actions today had been all wrong. He’d said as much to her, but she hadn’t thought it through.

Steeling herself to endure Lord Tremont’s touch, she turned. Her skin crawled with the idea of allowing him the liberties Mr. Broadhurst had gained by right of marriage.

“ . . . visit your patient.”

“Yes.” She hadn’t been listening. “I plan to look in on him before I retire. My housekeeper is sitting with him now.”

“It seems the others are engaged in cards. Now would be as good a time as any, would it not?”

She nodded. The last thing she wanted to do was take Lord Tremont to Jack’s bedside.

Lord Tremont put his hand on the small of her back. She scuttled forward. Her throat tightened and she tried to tell herself she could endure a man’s embrace and copulation with him. She had endured it for years with Mr. Broadhurst. Only with a lover she not only had to endure, but pretend she enjoyed him. Her insides flopped and she only hoped she wouldn’t throw up.

They passed Robert. She stopped and turned toward him. “I’m taking Lord Tremont to see the young man who was hurt today.”

Robert nodded. His eyebrows came together. “By all means, do sit with the poor chap awhile. I will make your excuses.” He gave a slight negative shake of the head as if puzzled.

Caroline nodded as if a puppet master controlled her strings. She tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. Lord Tremont put his hand against her back and his touch jarred her forward.

Leading him out into the hallway, she kept trying to believe she could do this. She could let him grope her and slobber on her and do all the things that constituted the act that men loved and she hated, but a scream boiled inside her. Oh, God, she had to do this.

“He is downstairs in the breakfast room.” She headed toward the staircase.

Before she reached the steps, Lord Tremont pulled her back. “We don’t really need to go see the boy. I wouldn’t want to disturb his rest.”

“No, of course not.” Caroline trembled. She was to have no reprieve.

Lord Tremont slid his hand around her waist and eased her around. No servants loitered about. The other guests remained in the drawing room. They were completely alone. His knotted necktie was not as fascinating as her attention to it would warrant, but she couldn’t seem to look him in the eye. She swallowed hard.

He slid a finger under her chin. For a second she resisted letting him tilt her head. She silently prayed that in the dim light of the gaslights her repulsion would not show.

“Your brother informs me that you are lonely living out here in the middle of nowhere.”

“Lancashire is hardly the end of the earth,” she objected. Foolish, foolish girl. All she had to do was agree and supply him with a perfect excuse for her wanton behavior.

Lord Tremont searched her face, and his gaze dropped to her lips. Fighting to keep her mouth relaxed, she waited.

He pressed his lips to hers. Closing her eyes, she decided it was not so horrible. Unlike her husband, Lord Tremont’s breath was not fetid with teeth that should be pulled. He was not invading her mouth as if she hid treasure inside. Maybe she could get through this.

Tilting back, he whispered, “Are you lonely, Caroline?”

Her head moved in more of a circle than in the up and down motion she strived for.

He ran his fingers along the edge of her bodice, and it was all she could do not to squirm away. She hated the groping, the pinching and the twisting that left her nipples sore. She dreaded the bruises a man could make with his mouth and the tenderness left in her woman’s place.

His fingers insistent, he tilted up her head again. She hadn’t even realized she had lowered her chin. He turned his head in an assessing way she didn’t like. Suddenly nervous, she bounced up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. Their teeth clicked because of her clumsiness, but he adjusted and slid his tongue along her lips. She screwed her eyes shut and allowed him access.