All About Seduction(74)

Would Jack? Did she dare go back down the stairs to him?

In the moment of her hesitation, her husband grabbed her arm and pulled her to the door. He gave her a little shove as he followed, closed the door, pulled out the key and locked it.

She stumbled and caught herself. He stood by her door and folded his arms. “Go. I will return to your room and wait.”

Caroline took a step down the hall, toward the rooms housing their guests. Her legs were weak and she fisted her hands in the material, trying to cover the darkness at the apex of her thighs. Her stomach clenched.

The unheated corridor terrified her. She couldn’t tell if her skin was colder than her insides. Oh God, she couldn’t do this again. But she had no choice. She couldn’t go downstairs to Jack while Mr. Broadhurst watched her. Horsewhipping would be the least of it, if she were caught with him.

Her teeth chattered and her entire body shook as she neared the first doors. Her mind spun as she tried to remember which man was in the first room.

“Stop stalling,” hissed Mr. Broadhurst.

She looked at the doors. First was Lord Edward’s room. She passed Lord Tremont’s door. Ahead was Mr. Berkley’s room. He would at least not be shocked by her appearance at his door, although she had been careful to not be alone with him. However, without revealing her husband wanted to be cuckolded, she doubted she could convince him to do what was needed to impregnate her.

She cast a glance over her shoulder. Mr. Broadhurst glared at her. She closed her eyes. Independence could be the reward for this. Her bravado disappeared in light of what Jack had said about the previous Mrs. Broadhurst, about her husband’s threat to have Jack horsewhipped, and about her own shame at making a bargain and then failing.

Jack listened for sounds that Caroline needed help. If she were in trouble, would she scream or just suffer in silence with quiet dignity? Either way, he wanted to check on her, but she would find the intrusion into her personal life insolent and disrespectful. Lying in the bed, he felt useless. He was no more than her patient.

He pushed back the covers and sat. Dizziness assailed him. The laudanum was winding him down. He would have to go slowly, but he was determined to be certain she was not following in the path of Broadhurst’s two previous wives.

He reached for his crutches and positioned them under his arms. Moving as quietly as he could, he moved out into the cavern of the entry hall and across the marble. His foot protested at the cold of the unheated stone, but he feared for Caroline.

The staircase loomed before him, but he’d taken the steps before. One flight up were the drawing rooms, music room, and unused ballroom. The bedrooms were two flights above him. He planted the crutches on the first stair and began the steady journey up into the parts of the house where his kind weren’t allowed.

His heart thumping and his breathing harsh, he took each step until he reached the silent landing of the first floor. He heard a whisper and jerked his head trying to hear more. He took a couple of the risers. His chest heaved and beads of perspiration dotted his forehead. God, even if he could get to her, what could he do?

But he continued on. Just out of his line of vision a thin white thing went by. Now he was seeing ghosts. He shook his head and grabbed for the banister, barely hanging onto his crutch.

The form returned to the top of the stairs. “Do not follow me,” she said in a low hiss. She wasn’t looking down the stairs, but back down the hall from whence she came. What the hell was she wearing?

“Do not think of going down those stairs,” was the answer in Broadhurst’s creaky whisper, but the menace in his tone chilled Jack’s blood.

Jack blinked and wondered if the laudanum was playing a trick on him, or if he’d gone to sleep and was dreaming, because it appeared that Mrs. Broadhurst wore a gown he could see through. The jut of her breast, the line of the thigh, dear God, the curve of her bum were all discernable. Behind her back, she made a shooing motion he almost missed because he was staring so hard at her sweet form.

He swallowed several times.

She turned on her heel and disappeared from sight. Jack stared into the darkness, wanting a chance to look longer and wondering if he had really seen her at all—and heard Broadhurst. But he was sure of it, none of the other men in the house would have raised his hackles the way Broadhurst did.

What on earth was going on? Just to think, Jack had to shake off the image that seemed forever locked in his brain. His thoughts moved as if through pudding and came out muddled. It couldn’t be. The conclusion he reached was preposterous, but he ran through everything in his mind again and came to the same result.