Confessions at Midnight

Chapter Ten

Daniel tossed back his brandy in a single swallow and inwardly grimaced at the fire burning down his throat to his stomach. The last bloody thing he needed was anything else to make him more heated. The mere sight of Carolyn, here, in his drawing room, sipping his sherry, was more than enough to make him feel as if he'd stepped into a roaring hearth.

He watched her delicately sip her sherry. How did she manage to look so beautiful even when doing something as mundane as drinking? His hungry gaze moved lower, drawn to the swell of her generous breasts, which her gown hinted at, then over the flattering aqua garment that perfectly complimented her creamy skin and blue eyes. He'd be hard pressed to name another woman who would have immediately-and personally-answered his call for assistance, not even pausing to change out of her finery. And was willing to act as nurse to a stranger, and actually possessed the skills to do so. Aspects of her besides her beauty to admire. And it suddenly hit him that he didn't require any others. That in fact he quite admired her more than enough already.

He felt the weight of her regard and looked up. And discovered her staring at the vee opening in his shirt. With an expression that indicated she liked what she saw. His shoulders tensed and he tightened his hold on his empty snifter to keep from yanking her into his arms and kissing her until she admitted that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

She glanced up and their gazes collided. The crimson that rushed into her cheeks made it plain she was aware she'd been caught staring. She took a hasty sip of sherry then set down her glass on the mahogany side table.

After he did the same, they quit the room and headed down the dimly lit corridor leading to the conservatory. From the corner of his eye he noted her twisting her fingers together, a good indication she felt the same awareness, the same thick tension, as he did. A promising sign, as far as he was concerned.

"You're remarkably adept at cleaning and bandaging cuts," he remarked, wading into the silence.

"Sarah was quite the hoyden as a child," she said, her lips curving upward in obvious affectionate remembrance. "I spent many hours doctoring her many scrapes and cuts. And a few of my own."

"You're not the least bit squeamish?"

"No. If I'd been born a boy I would have followed in my father's footsteps and become a physician."

His brows shot up in surprise. He'd never heard an aristocratic woman say such a thing-that she aspired to a profession. But of course, Carolyn wasn't born into the peerage. "You said Sarah was a hoyden. How did you come about your scrapes and cuts?"

A smile tugged at her lips. "I have a confession to make."

Interest flared within him. "Oh? Pray don't keep me in suspense. But I find it only fair to remind you-confessions at midnight can be a dangerous thing."

"Then how fortunate for me it's well past midnight." Mischief danced in her eyes, and leaning closer, she confided with a conspiratorial air, "I used to… climb trees."

He wasn't sure if he was more surprised, intrigued, or amused. "Never say so."

"I'm afraid it's true. And balance on fallen tree stumps. And jump along the rocks that protruded around the pond near our home. Fell in the water more than once."

A memory attempted to crawl up from where it resided in the depths of his soul and he quickly slammed shut the dungeon door to keep it from seeing the light of day. "I'm quite certain you're telling me a Bunbury tale, my lady. You're not capable of such shocking behavior."

"I assure you it's true. My mother always insisted my behavior be flawless, yet she put no such restrictions on Sarah."

"Why is that?"

She hesitated, clearly considering whether to tell him. Finally she said, "Much to my consternation, I was always Mother's favorite. She considered Sarah hopelessly plain and paid little attention to her, pinning all her hopes-actually, expectations-on me to marry well. Her favoritism hurt Sarah deeply, and me as well, as I adored Sarah from the day she was born. I escaped Mother's stifling clutches every chance I could, and when I did, I joined Sarah in tree climbing and rock jumping, or whatever grand adventure she was undertaking. Mother would have flown into the boughs had she known, so to cover up those occasions when I'd slip and fall, I learned how to treat my own injuries. And Sarah's as well." She flashed a smile. "Since Father was a physician, it wasn't terribly difficult to figure out. Or to pilfer bandages."

They'd reached the glass doors leading to the conservatory and he paused. "I must admit I'm taken unawares at this unexpected side of you, my lady."

"I assure you it's true. In fact, I sport a scar on my ankle-a souvenir of one of my less successful tree climbing adventures. I consider it a badge of honor."

He grasped the curved brass knob and opened the door. The air around them was instantly inundated with a floral fragrance layered with hints of freshly turned soil. A silvery beam of moonlight fell upon the stone floor, shimmering down from the glass panels set in the high ceiling. He glanced up and noted a glimpse of a pearly moon set in a black, velvety sky strewn with diamondlike stars.

"How lovely," she murmured, stepping farther into the warm room.

"I thought you might like it."

"I do. Very much." She pulled in a deep breath then smiled. "It must be glorious in the daylight."

"Yes, but I actually prefer coming here at night. I find it very…"

"Peaceful?"

He nodded. "Yes. The perfect spot for contemplation."

There was no missing her surprise. "I wouldn't have thought you a man given to quiet reflection."

"Clearly you don't know me as well as you believe."

She gave him a searching look. "Actually, I don't believe I know you very well at all." Before he could assure her that he was delighted to tell her anything she might wish to know, she continued, "Sarah has always had great love for plants and flowers. Is your interest of a long-standing nature?"

He led her slowly down an aisle of lustrous greenery. "It was actually one of my mother's great passions. This conservatory was her favorite room in the house. It fell into disrepair after she died. When I inherited the house three years ago upon my father's death, I had it refurbished. I maintain it in her memory."

"I'm sorry for your loss," she murmured. "I cannot imagine the difficulty of losing both parents. How old were you when your mother died?"

"Eight." Determined to change the subject, he pointed to the upcoming section of flowers. "The roses," he said. He snapped off a nearby bud, removed the thorns from the stem, then held the bloom out to her. "For you."

"Thank you." She lifted the offering to her nose and inhaled, then held the flower up to examine it in a shimmering ribbon of moonlight. "It doesn't appear to be pure white," she said, slowly turning the stem between her fingers.

"It's a very pale pink, a color my groundskeeper calls 'blush.'" He reached out and stroked his fingertip over the edge of a petal. "This flower reminds me of you."

"Why is that?"

"Because it's delicate. Fragrant. And very, very lovely." He brushed the fingertip that had just touched the rose over her soft cheek. "And because you blush so beautifully."

As if on cue, color rushed into her cheeks, and he smiled. "Just like that."

His compliment clearly flustered her, and she looked down as they continued to slowly walk along the aisle. After several long seconds of silence, she remarked, "You must have left the party early."

"I had no desire to stay after you departed."

Carolyn's gaze snapped to him and her breath caught at his intense regard. He was looking at her as if she were a sweet confection and he harbored a craving for sugar. Oh… my. And it wasn't just what he said, but the way he said it, in that low, husky voice. The tension that had gripped her from the moment she found herself alone with him doubled, and her entire body seemed to burst into flame-and he hadn't even touched her. Except for that whisper of a caress against her cheek moments ago, which had left a trail of fire in its wake.

And she realized that in spite of her wish for it to be otherwise, she wanted him to touch her. Very much.

What would he do if she told him so? If she said, I want you to touch me. Kiss me.

He'd oblige you, her inner voice whispered.

Yes. And she'd once again feel all the magic she'd experienced on the two other occasions he'd touched her. Kissed her.

She gripped the rose's stem to keep from fanning her hand in front of her overheated face. Desperate for something, anything, to say that didn't include the words kiss me, she said, "Katie told me about the interesting array of pets you've saved."

"Ah, yes, they're quite a colorful group-or perhaps 'herd' is a better description."

"Saving abandoned animals… it is a surprising and unusual pursuit for an earl."

"Believe me, no one was more surprised than I. It's truly Samuel's enterprise, but when he brought home his first find, a half-starved, sickly, pure black cat missing an eye, I couldn't refuse. Blinky fully recovered and is now an honored member of the household."

She smiled at the pet's name. "I saw Blinky in the foyer when I arrived."

"Only because she prowls the house at night. Beast does nothing but nap before the hearth all day."

His grumpy words were belied by the obvious affection in his voice. "Regardless, not many employers would help their servant in such a way. Or allow them to bring home stray after stray."

"I fear I've little choice, as the need to help those less fortunate is deeply ingrained in Samuel's nature."

"Clearly. It is an admirable attribute. Most likely the result of the kindness you showed him."

He halted at the end of the row and turned to face her. "Obviously Samuel told Katie-"

"Who told me. Yes."

He shrugged. "I did nothing anyone else wouldn't have done."

She raised her brows. Surely he didn't truly believe that. "On the contrary, I think many people would have left a person who'd attempted to rob them where he fell. Or summoned the authorities. You saved his life."

"I merely offered him a choice. He was smart enough to choose wisely."

"A very generous choice, after you'd very generously saved his life."

Again he shrugged. "It just so happened I was in need of a footman."

Why did he insist on making light of what he'd done? She considered asking him, but decided to let the matter rest. For now. But she couldn't deny she was both surprised and intrigued by this unforeseen modest aspect of him-in addition to all the other unexpected aspects she'd learned this evening. The man was full of surprises.

He nodded toward the corner. "Would you care to sit?"

She craned her neck and saw a floral brocade settee set in the corner, surrounded by tall, leafy palms set in porcelain vases. A swatch of moonlight glazed the sitting area in a silvery glow, lending it an almost magical air. Unable to resist the enchanting spot, she nodded and murmured, "Thank you."

After they were seated, she tilted back her head and heaved a contented sigh at the sight of the glittering stars. "This feels like a tiny slice of indoor heaven."

"I couldn't agree more."

Lifting her head, she found his gaze resting upon her. Seated with a slight slouch at his end of the settee, his fingers lightly linked and resting on his flat stomach, his long legs stretched before him, casually crossed at the ankles, he appeared the personification of relaxation. Which was quite vexing, as she felt so very… unrelaxed.

Hoping she sounded as unconcerned as he looked, she asked, "Do you intend to keep all the animals you rescue?"

"I have until now, but given how rapidly their numbers keep growing, I suppose I'll need to consider allowing some to be taken in by others-provided I'm assured the animals would be properly cared for."

"You've never asked Samuel to stop?"

"No. And I've no intention of doing so. He has a way with animals that I've never seen before. He'd make an excellent veterinarian. I plan to discuss with him the possibility of sending him to school."

She didn't even attempt to hide her surprise. "You'd send your footman to school?"

"If he wished to go. He has a true talent. And a dedication."

"That is very generous of you."

"Not as much as you might think. I have an ulterior motive."

"Which is?"

A hint of mischief danced in his eyes. "I've always wanted a protege. It's quite fashionable, you know. Of course, now that Samuel has expanded his strays beyond merely animals, I'm thinking I'll need to expand our enterprise to include some sort of employment agency."

Carolyn studied him and inwardly shook her head. She'd always believed herself an astute judge of character, yet in this case it seemed she'd done a poor job of it. Not that she hadn't always liked him-she'd found him personable and charming from the first time they met. But she'd never considered him as anything more than what he appeared-an extremely attractive scapegrace.

Clearly she'd been very wrong. And that was very unsettling. He'd proven difficult to resist when she thought him nothing more than handsome. But now… now there were things to admire about him-other than his charm and good looks. Noble things. And that was an attraction she knew would prove even more difficult to resist. And which begged the question…

Did she really want to resist?

The voice inside her answered No! so quickly, so emphatically, so loudly, it almost seemed as if she'd said it out loud.

"No, what?" he asked with a questioning look.

Dear God, she had said it out loud. "Nothing," she said, then speedily added, "I recall you telling me that you don't like to share. Yet your actions belie your words, Lord Surbrooke."

"Daniel… my extremely lovely, very dear, greatly talented, highly amusing, extraordinarily intelligent, possessor of the most kissable lips I've ever seen, as well as an excellent memory, Lady Wingate." He blew out an exaggerated breath. "That is getting to be rather a mouthful, you know. You could put me out of my misery."

She pretended she hadn't heard him say kissable lips. "And miss hearing what you'll come up with next? I think not."

"Just my luck. As for my assertion that I don't like to share, I suppose I should clarify my statement. It depends on what I'm sharing." His glittering gaze seemed to burn through her clothing, to scorch her skin. "And whom I'm sharing it with."

And with those few words, a plethora of images bombarded her-of him and her sharing. Heated kisses. Sensual touches. Their bodies.

Myriad wants and needs and emotions swamped her, confusing her, leaving her flustered and completely tongue-tied. She licked her suddenly dry lips, then stilled as he watched the gesture.

She had to swallow twice to locate her voice. "Samuel is fortunate to have found you."

"Actually, I am the fortunate one." He hesitated, as if debating whether to continue, then finally said, "Before he came to work for me, my life had become… unfulfilling. Samuel's charitable endeavors have given me something worthwhile and productive to do. Helping him makes me feel useful. And has brought home the cold, stark reality of the over whelming number of animals-and people-in desperate need of help."

She nodded slowly, soaking in words she never would have attributed to him. A fissure of shame rippled through her at the realization of how deeply she'd obviously misjudged him. "When you say your life had become unfulfilling, what do you mean?"

"I felt a mounting, frustrating sense of restlessness. Boredom. Emptiness. And really, more that anything, uselessness."

"But what of the earldom? Your properties?"

"That doesn't require as much of my time as you might think. I have an excellent steward who keep things running so smoothly I'm barely needed. My households are flawlessly run. I could go away for months and not a ripple would occur on the calm water of my earldom." Carolyn noted his eyes were filled with shadows, and wished she knew the cause of them.

Then he flashed a quick smile. "Gets rather tiresome, not being needed. Thanks to Samuel and the animals, I'm feeling a great deal less of that."

"You are very fortunate, my lord. I've suffered from feelings similar to those you described. Unlike you however, I haven't yet found an activity or cause to alleviate the emptiness." She rarely discussed such things with anyone other than Sarah, yet before she could stop herself, she found herself saying, "I've discovered it's very difficult to go from being needed on a daily basis to not being needed at all."

He straighten his slouched position and shook his lead. "You are mistaken. Your sister, your friends, hey need you and care for you deeply. I've seen it every time we're all together."

"I know that, of course. However, Emily and Julianne have their own families, and now Sarah is married."

"And you're wondering exactly where you fit in." Her gaze searched his. "You sound as if you know tow that feels."

"Most likely because I do. Precisely. And although I realize you've had to make difficult adjustments I wouldn't wish on anyone, I still find myself envious of the fact that for at least a period of time you felt needed every day."

His words, the sadness lurking in his eyes, rendered her speechless. Before she could even think of a reply, he blinked several times, as if coming out of a trance. A rueful smile curved his lips. "Egad, pardon me for allowing the conversation to turn so… maudlin."

As she wasn't certain how to tell him that she actualy found his unguarded words fascinating, she instead forced a light tone and asked, "You'd prefer to discuss the weather?"

"Actually, no. That isn't what I'd prefer at all."

"Oh? And what is your preference?"

Her breath caught at the heated look that flared in his eyes. His gaze wandered slowly down her form, lingering for several seconds on her ankles before traveling back up. By the time their gazes once again met, his eyes glittered with a combination of heat and mischievous intent that rendered her barely able to pull any air into her lungs.

He reached out and lightly brushed his fingers over the back of her hand. "I would like, very much, to see your tree climbing scar."