The Nobody: Signet Regency Romance (InterMix) (15 page)

Caitlin turned so swiftly she almost staggered. Lord Kilverton was standing at the terrace doors, his tall form silhouetted against the light. He was alone. Something like panic surged through her. She turned back to her friends and took a deep breath.

“If Lord Kilverton will be so kind as to walk with you, Serena, I will take Mr. Montague’s arm—”

“Walk in the garden with my
own brother
?” interrupted Serena, staring at Caitlin in astonishment. “I would never dream of doing anything so—so
Gothic
!” She ran lightly down the terrace steps onto the lawn.

Caitlin could think of nothing to say, and felt remarkably foolish. Mr. Montague bowed briefly over her hand.

“Be comforted, Miss Campbell. Serena will come to no harm under my care,” he said softly. “In fact, it is I who am in danger.” He smiled a little ruefully at her startled expression, and departed after Serena.

Chapter XVIII

C
aitlin watched them disappear down the path together, wondering if she had understood Mr. Montague correctly. Did he believe himself to be falling in love with Serena? Even worse: had he, perhaps, been in love with Serena all along? Pity tugged at her heart. If this were true, she could imagine few fates more horrible than poor Ned’s. She tried to imagine how she would feel, if her beloved asked her to flirt with him to mask his feelings for someone else. She shuddered.

“What a strange business it is,” she whispered.

“What is?” came a quiet voice at her elbow.

“Love,” she replied, without thinking. She looked up. Her last word seemed to echo in the silence. Richard Kilverton was standing so close to her they almost touched.

“Yes,” he said unsteadily. “A most mysterious business.”

The air surrounding them was instantly charged with tension. Caitlin felt she couldn’t bear it. If anyone else came out onto the terrace, her emotions would be in her face for all to read. She dared not speak. She turned blindly and walked away from him, away from the windows, away from the light. The terrace ran the entire length of the building. She thought if she could cross into the darkness she would not feel so vulnerable, so exposed. The moonlight, however, still poured down, and Kilverton followed her. There was no escape. He, at least, would know how she felt.

She stopped, leaning weakly against the cool stone of the Selcroft mansion. Lord Kilverton stood before her, his expression changed to one of concern.

“Are you quite well, Miss Campbell?”

She nodded, still unable to speak. He took the champagne glass from her nerveless hand and held it to her lips. “Drink this,” he commanded softly.

Overcome by his closeness, she raised one hand to steady the glass, and sipped cautiously. The constriction in her throat loosened. “Thank you, my lord,” she whispered. She sipped again. Both their hands were trembling, and the glass chattered against her teeth.

He turned abruptly, walked over to the balustrade, and set the glass down upon it. He then stood for a moment with his back to her. She watched him take a deep breath and square his shoulders, and knew he was trying to get a grip on his emotions. He would not look at her again until he had succeeded.

She suddenly realized that she did not want him to succeed. A strange, exhilarating rashness swept through her. The champagne tingled on her lips. She remembered how miserable she had felt that morning, thinking she could never have more of him than a paltry waltz or two, and her hands clenched into fists. This might be the last time she would ever be alone with him. Tonight might be the last time she saw him before he married Lady Elizabeth and was lost to her forever. And he was going to try to be
civilized
! No, she did not want him to succeed!

He was turning back to face her again, and this new, savage part of her rejoiced to see that he had failed to master himself. His tormented expression made her shake with love and longing. She felt she would give all she possessed to have the right to comfort him.

Kilverton crossed to her and took her hand. He spoke with a valiant attempt at lightness, but was unable to meet her eyes. He looked, instead, at her hand in his. “Miss Campbell, I—I fear my sentiments cannot be unknown to you.” He swallowed painfully. “Forgive me. It was never my intention to—to embarrass you, or put you in a position of—of—”

Embarrass her! Did he think she was
embarrassed
? Among all the emotions swamping her senses, how absurd to single that one out! The instant he brought it to her attention, she banished it. There was no room in her heart for embarrassment; not with everything else she was feeling. Not tonight. This was the only moment she would have, and she wanted it filled with a memory she could hold close through the lonely years that loomed ahead. The sweet new recklessness seized her; the champagne sang in her veins. A queer little laugh escaped her.

Kilverton’s eyes flew to her face in a look of startled inquiry. What he saw there made him catch his breath. Caitlin’s eyes were wide and misty, inches from his own, their expression fierce and sultry.

“Kiss me,” she whispered.

He stared at her for half a heartbeat, unbelieving. This precious, unattainable girl was lifting her face to his,
asking
for his kiss! It was the most erotic suggestion he had ever heard. It would take a stronger man than Richard Kilverton to resist. To him she seemed impossibly lovely, infinitely dear. He forgot everything but the lips turned up to his.

Caitlin had no time to regret her words, or think better of the impulse that had prompted them. Kilverton’s arms crushed her to him with a startling ferocity. She found herself clinging to him, and gasped at the novelty of powerful shoulders beneath her fingers, of his tall, lean body crushed against her own. Her instinctive response to his very masculinity bewildered her, but there was no time to accustom herself. His mouth touched hers and she was immediately plunged into a new flood of sensations.

She was completely unprepared for the totality of this experience. It was impossible to tell where emotion left off and sensation began. His mouth was softer than she had thought possible, warmer than she remembered, thrilling in a way she had never imagined. His lips took hers with a fierce, dizzying possessiveness. He overpowered her, and she found herself yielding eagerly. It was astonishing, it was terrifying, it was glorious.

Her swift response set Kilverton’s heart racing. He began to slow and soften the kiss, knowing this was a mad thing to do. Warnings sounded in the back of his mind, but he ignored them. She was so sweet! She tasted like summer, and music, and the fulfillment of every longing his heart had ever known.

And she tasted of champagne.

It was this that made him eventually, reluctantly, lift his mouth from hers. The sight of her face still turned up to his, eyes closed, her soft lips still parted for him, almost unmanned him. He uttered a sound halfway between a groan and a laugh, and clutched her to his heart. Champagne and moonlight! he thought wryly. I have taken ungentlemanly advantage of a romantic girl’s inexperience! Still, he could not resist kissing the top of her head. A sweet, subtle fragrance clung to her hair.

Lord Kilverton had a shoulder very conveniently placed for a tall lady’s cheek. Caitlin felt his lips in her hair and sighed blissfully. She wished nothing more than to stand here forever, feeling his strong arms around her, forgetful of everything but the intimacy of this moment. His kiss had left her dazzled, shaken, and utterly content.

Kilverton, however, was far from content. The kiss had aroused more in him than mere emotion, and some time passed before he trusted himself enough to speak. He had no wish to let her go, but finally forced himself to hold her gently away from him. He took a deep breath, his fingers tightening on her arms.

“I should not have done that, Miss Campbell. I apologize.”

There was a shocked silence. “What do you mean?” she whispered. He saw the hurt and bewilderment in her eyes and cursed himself silently.

“I mean that—as usual, it seems—my manners deserted me the instant I found myself alone with you.”

She pulled herself out of his grasp. He watched as she tried pitifully to collect her wits and regain a measure of dignity. She folded her arms and hugged herself, an unconscious gesture that almost brought tears to his eyes. It was as if she was protecting her heart from further wounding.

She took a ragged breath and managed to smile crookedly. “There is no need to apologize, Lord Kilverton. I believe I—” She stopped, and he saw pain flicker in her eyes before she continued. “I asked for it, did I not? Literally, it seems.”

He had shamed her. This was intolerable. Impulsively, he reached to comfort her—then let his arm drop impotently back to his side. She was not his to comfort. “You asked for it very sweetly,” he said unsteadily. Memory gripped him, and he thrust it out of his mind. He feared he might ravish her if he pictured again the look on her face, and her voice whispering
Kiss me.
“But it was my part, as a gentleman, to resist the temptation. I had a duty to protect you. I failed, Miss Campbell. Pray do not blame yourself.”

The hurt in Caitlin’s eyes deepened, and she looked down to hide her shame. How could he
apologize
for what had seemed to her the most transcendent experience of her life? It must have struck him quite differently. She blushed to think how idiotic she must appear to him—how vulgar—how
wanton
! She had disgraced herself indeed.

She did her best to speak lightly. “This is a nonsensical discussion, is it not? I threw myself at your head. It is I who owe you an apology, Lord Kilverton.”

“But I began it.”

Caitlin looked up at him, puzzled. “Began it? How?” She cast her mind back, in some confusion.

“If you will recall, Miss Campbell, I was on the point of—of making a declaration.” He gave a short, bitter laugh. “A most improper declaration, under the circumstances.”

Oh, yes. She had been in the grip of so much emotion at the time, she had barely been listening. Now she remembered.

“You were expressing, I think,” she said slowly, “a fear that—that your sentiments were already known to me. You believed they had caused me embarrassment.” She tried to smile. “Well! Whatever your sentiments failed to do, my own have done—abundantly. It is absurd to stand here and argue about whose fault it was. I suggest we return to Lady Selcroft’s soiree and forget what happened here.”

She intended to walk away. It was very odd that she found herself pulled back into Lord Kilverton’s arms. She wasn’t sure how it happened, but once she was there it didn’t seem possible to leave.

His voice was low, but charged with emotion. “Can you forget what just passed between us? I cannot.”

A rush of relief, joy, longing, and sorrow shot through Caitlin. It had meant something to him, after all. She tried to shake her head, but as it was pressed against his shoulder this was unsuccessful. She found she must lean back against his arms and look into his face. Once she had done this, she found she could not speak. However, it did not seem necessary to speak.

He lifted one hand and gently touched her face. “So sweet,” he whispered, and kissed her again. He did not crush her against him this time, but kissed her softly, delicately, as if she might be breakable. She closed her eyes, letting her lips cling to his, willing this moment to never end. When it did, she opened her eyes slowly, feeling dazed and oddly breathless. His hands slid lightly down her arms, and took her hands in a firm clasp.

“Miss Campbell—Caitlin—I must have your answer before I—” He stopped, and took another deep breath. “If I were free to do so, I would lay my heart at your feet. Do you understand that?”

She nodded dumbly, wondering how it was possible to feel wretched and joyous at the same time.

His grip on her hands tightened, and his eyes searched hers painfully. “I must know. If I were free—if I could come to you with a clear conscience—how would you answer me?”

She felt her breath stop. Answer him? How would she answer him? His question shattered all that remained of her defenses. The hopeless dreams she had kept at bay until now suddenly, vividly, materialized in her imagination. She could no longer fight them. Her longing overcame her reason, and a dizzying wave of feelings swept her.

Lord Kilverton’s anxious eyes continued to hold hers. “You hesitate! I am answered. Miss Campbell, if I have jumped to the wrong conclusion I beg your pardon—”

It was impossible to think clearly with Lord Kilverton touching her. She snatched her hands away. “Oh,
hush
!” she exclaimed breathlessly. “How can you stand there and talk such fustian to me? You are not answered—I have not answered you. I cannot answer you! Let me think—I have not considered—” Reality returned, and she covered her face with her hands. “This is pointless. You are asking me to consider the impossible.”

His voice was salted with bitter amusement. “Miss Campbell, I have done nothing but consider the impossible for many days now.”

She shrugged helplessly. “But why? To what purpose? I do not understand.”

She felt his arms go round her again with sudden savagery. “By all means, let us have it in plain English! I am sick of this maundering.” He pulled her hands away from her face and cupped it firmly with his own, forcing her to meet his eyes. “The idea of marriage with anyone other than your own precious self has become intolerable to me. If it were possible to secure your hand, I would do anything—anything at all—to win it.”

Her pulse jumped beneath his fingers, and he smiled tenderly at her. “I am such a coxcomb, you know, that I have come to believe my advances might not be unwelcome to you.”

She gave him a tremulous smile. “What an odd idea, my lord.”

“Yes, isn’t it? I only wish I were free to test the truth of it.”

Tears stung her eyes. “I wish you were, too.”

He pulled her back into his arms and held her fiercely. “I must break my engagement.”

Despair and guilt caught in Caitlin’s throat. “You cannot do so.”

“I must try. But it will cause a great deal of unpleasantness, I fear, and I cannot tell what the outcome may be. I do not wish to take such a step without some assurance from you.”

Her voice was almost inaudible. “What assurance can I possibly give you?”

He sighed. “Why, none at all. You can promise me nothing, and—however much I may wish to—I can promise you nothing. I may not succeed in freeing myself, and until I do, I have no right to ask anything of you. But I have an overbearing disposition, as you have pointed out! I know you have not had time to consider, and it was absurd to think you could give me an answer tonight. But give me some hope, Caitlin.” He laid his cheek against her hair. “Only a little hope. Is that too much to ask?”

To his surprise, a chuckle escaped her. “When I consider my behavior during the past half hour, and observe that I am even now clinging to you in a
most
improper fashion, I am astonished you are asking so little.”