Caroline was panting now. Leo nudged her legs farther apart and slipped his tongue between the lips of her sex. Caroline gasped with surprise, her fingers groping for his shoulders, gathering her skirt higher and higher. As he began to lave her, she groaned with the pleasure he was giving her, causing his blood to pound hotly.

He explored her thoroughly. She moved against him, panting for breath, the little cries of pleasure coming quicker and quicker as she neared her release. He stroked her, sucked her, nibbled as if she were a delicacy until she found it, crying out without regard for their privacy, her hands clutching at him, exalting in the throes of release.

And when it was over, she said, quite breathlessly, “Extraordinary.”

Extraordinary.

Leo sat up and delicately dragged a finger across his lips. He adjusted his clothing and watched with not a small amount of pleasure as her eyes skimmed over his erection. He carefully pulled her skirts down over her legs. There were desires and feelings he wanted to convey, emotions he wasn’t entirely sure he understood himself. The words that came to him were Alucian, and he couldn’t think how to say those feelings in English. So he said, “You are remarkable, Caroline Hawke.”

She laughed softly and sat up. “I know. But I didn’t know that so are you.”

Leo grinned broadly. He reached for her hand and pulled her to her feet, kissed the back of her hand as if they’d just finished a dance, then her mouth, lingering there. “I should go.”

“You should.” She brushed something from his cheek, his hair from his forehead. She didn’t ask him any questions. She didn’t ask when she would see him again. She said nothing and smiled that catlike smile, looking sated and happy and in need of a nap. “Good night, Leopold.”

“Good night, Caroline.” He bowed. She curtsied as she bit back a laugh. With one last tug of his clothing, he carefully opened the door and looked out, then stepped into the hall.

He strolled quickly away from her door, but when he turned a corner, he encountered another maid hurrying toward him, this one carrying linens. It seemed an odd time of night for linens, but Leo had no notion of how these things were done. “Pardon, miss.”

The maid stopped and awkwardly curtsied. “Yes, milord?”

“I should like some bread—”

“I’ll fetch—”

“No, no, you are clearly occupied,” he said, gesturing at her linens. “Just point me to the kitchen, will you?”

“It’s directly below us, milord. Two floors down.”

“Very good,” he said with a nod, and continued walking.

He had not forgotten what he had to do, the stirring interlude with Caroline notwithstanding.

CHAPTER NINETEEN


The Duke and Duchess of Norfolk are pleased to announce the duchess has been delivered of a healthy baby boy. The news was met with joy across Sussex and London, as it represents a new beginning. Perhaps the duke and duchess can put behind them the terrible row the night of the birth, the likes of which sent pets and servants scurrying for cover. Gentlemen would be well reminded that a lady’s nerves are at their most frayed the hours before a birth.

Ladies, it is not practical to invest in belt buckles of various shades and colors. Silver and pearl complement all styles of dress. The investment of a buckle with a sturdy clasp is well worth the cost if it keeps one’s belt tightly fastened when a husband has fallen into his cups.

—Honeycutt’s Gazette of Fashion and


Domesticity for Ladies

CAROLINE WAS STARTLED out of a very restful sleep when Beck suddenly burst into her room. He strode in and stopped with his legs braced apart and very nearly shouted, “Why are you still abed?”

“Why? What time is it?” Caroline asked groggily.

“Time for you to be awake, madam.” He strode for the window, throwing the drapes open. “Lady Norfolk is giving birth.”

She abruptly sat up and looked around her. “Now?”

“Yes, now. All night, as it happens. Haven’t you heard them running back and forth? More towels, more water!” he said, gesturing for her to get up. “The midwife says anytime now. Get dressed, get dressed, Caro! You should be helping!” He moved determinedly out of her room.

“I should be helping what?” she mumbled as the door closed behind him.

Nevertheless, she threw off the covers. She was awake now, attuned to the day, even as the memory of last night flooded her thoughts. She shivered when she recalled the way his hand had felt against her skin, the way his mouth worked on her body. She shivered again when she recalled how dark his blue eyes had turned when she found her release, and time and thought and even air had been suspended.

She smiled as she padded across to the bellpull. She’d never experienced anything like what Leopold had shown her last night. She’d heard of it—Priscilla’s older sister once told them that her husband put his mouth “down there.” Priscilla and Caroline, who were much younger at the time, hadn’t believed it. But then Eliza had confirmed that the sort of thing was true between man and woman and really quite enjoyable. Now Caroline could report—

Wait. She couldn’t report any such thing. What was the matter with her? It would not do to talk about it. No, this was a delicious secret she would need to keep to herself. Lord, how would she look at Leopold again, now that this had transpired between them? She’d blush wildly, and everyone around her would suspect the truth, she was certain.

She was still smiling when Janey entered her room to help her dress.

“Good morning, milady!” she said brightly. “What a glorious day it is, isn’t it, with another child to be born? They’ve sent for the duke, so it must be nigh.”

“When did the birthing start?”

“Oh, just before midnight,” Janey said. She held up a dress from the trunk Caroline had brought. “If you ask me, it started in earnest this morning, just before the kitchen fires were started.”

Caroline laughed. “What were you doing about at the hour?”

“Didn’t you hear? It’s a wonder anyone slept a wink, what with all the shouting.”

“What shouting?” Caroline asked as she stepped into her crinoline, and Janey tied it at her waist. She’d slept like a baby—a deep slumber, a contented slumber, she mused, as Janey prattled on. Caroline was slipping back into the memory when something Janey said caught her attention. “Pardon?”

“The midwife,” Janey repeated.

“No, before that.”

“Oh, aye. My poor mistress, she saw the duke come up the stairs from the kitchen, and I suppose she thought he ought to have been close by, I don’t know, but she picked up a vase and threw it at him. The midwife, she said it didn’t go far, as it was heavy, and the duchess had very little strength.”

“From the kitchen?” Caroline repeated. Her buoyant feeling began to dissipate. She looked at Janey’s reflection in the mirror. “Why would he go to the kitchen in the middle of the night?”

Janey pursed her lips and pretended to be fussing with Caroline’s dress.

Caroline glanced over her shoulder at her. “There must have been a reason, Janey.”

Janey paused in the smoothing of the skirt of Caroline’s gown. “I don’t rightly know, milady. All I know is that this morning Cook said there was an awful row between the prince and the duke, and...” She quickly looked over her shoulder, as if she thought someone else was in the room. And then whispered, “The girl Jacleen has gone missing.”

And just like that, Caroline’s heart dropped to the floor. She froze, staring at the wall before her, unable to move. Or breathe.

“Milady?”

“What do you mean, she’s gone missing?” Caroline asked.

“Took her things and disappeared,” Janey said.

“Did the duke send someone to find her?”

“No, milady. He’s been pacing the floor outside his wife’s chamber. She won’t let him in. My mother was that way, too. Didn’t want anyone around when she was giving birth. She had fourteen children, can you imagine?”

“No,” Caroline said weakly. Her mind was racing. She felt flush. She felt as if she might faint and put her hand down on the vanity to steady herself. Leopold had left this morning. The maid was Weslorian. Leopold had taken that girl and fled. But why? “What was the row about?” she asked. “Between the prince and the duke?”

“I don’t know, exactly, but the duke, he struck the prince.”

Caroline gasped.

A loud and sudden knock on the door caused Janey and Caroline both to jump. “One minute!” Caroline called as Janey lifted the skirt over Caroline’s head and let it settle around her waist.

“No minutes!” Beck shouted back. “The baby has come! It’s a boy!”

Janey gasped with delight. “A boy! An heir to the duke!”

“Go,” Caroline urged her. “I can finish dressing myself.”

“I shouldn’t—”

“Of course you should,” Caroline said. “It’s the heir,” she reminded Janey, knowing full well that in this world of dukes and duchesses, an heir took precedence over everything else.

“Thank you, milady.” Janey dipped a quick curtsy and went out. When the door closed behind her, Caroline sank down onto a chair, staring at the floor. Why had he done it? Did he want that girl for the same reason as the duke? But...but it made no sense. If he wanted a paramour, he could bloody well have one. Why did he take up with maids?

And if she doubted it for a moment, Beck confirmed her worst fear when they departed Arundel that afternoon. He fell back against the squabs with a very loud yawn. “A lot of bloody wailing when a child is born.”

“Beck! It’s very painful to give birth.”

“I don’t mean the effort Lady Norfolk has put to bringing the boy into the world. The rest of it.”