A Scoundrel's Surrender (8 page)

Caleb glared at his brother, suddenly overwhelmed by jealousy. “Well, go home to your wife then,” he snapped. “But drop me at Alyssa's first.”

Justin was quiet, but then he reached behind him and tapped on the carriage wall to signal the driver to stop. As the carriage slowed, Justin nodded.

“Very well. I'll send the carriage back for you once it has dropped me at home.”

“Thank you,” Caleb ground out.

After Justin had spoken quietly to the driver, the vehicle moved again. The two brothers sat in silence, though Justin didn't have to speak for Caleb to know he was being judged. He bristled beneath it, and when the carriage stopped a second time, this time in front of a large, beautiful town home in one of the most fashionable parts of London, he was relieved.

“Good night,” Justin said softly as Caleb pushed past him into the night.

Caleb grunted his reply and walked away from the vehicle, sucking in gulps of the cool night air in the hope it would clear his mind. Tonight he wanted to drown himself in pleasure, frivolity, spirits. He would forget Marah and he would forget his father and he would just
feel
pleasure as he hadn't allowed himself to do for years.

He stepped into the front foyer and smiled. Yes, this was better. This was where he belonged.

He moved into the throng of people who spilled from the ballroom into the hallways. Unlike a normal ball, the women here wore scandalously low-cut gowns and they flirted openly with the men. And when the situation got steamy . . . well, Alyssa had always been more than open with her chambers.

In fact, as Caleb moved through the crowd to the ballroom, he saw a few guests had already begun the best part of the evening in Alyssa's front rooms. Through the doors he heard moans and sighs.

Those around him greeted him, some in surprise, but all with good spirits, and soon he had a drink in his hand and a grin on his face as he listened to the men around him tell tales of their conquests over the past two years of his absence.

“Caleb Talbot, how rude of you to intrude upon my party without even coming to speak to me first.”

Caleb turned at the sultry voice that spoke to him and smiled as he watched Alyssa Manning cross the final few feet that separated them. She had her hands extended to him in greeting and there was nothing but warmth and promise on her face.

She had once been London's most celebrated courtesan, indulging in wild affairs with important men who had settled her well over the years. And why not? She was a beautiful woman, with blond hair and blue eyes that sparkled with humor, intelligence, and sensuality.

Once, a few years before, Caleb had gone to her bed, not as a protector, but just a lover. Their affair had been brief but pleasurable and they had remained as good friends afterward as they had been before.

He took her hands with a smile. “My dearest Alyssa, how beautiful you look.”

She tilted her head as she looked him over and, though her smile stayed, her eyes seemed troubled for a flash of a moment. “You have changed, Caleb, but you are as handsome as ever. Come.”

She took his hand and drew him away from the crowd toward one of the small rooms connected to the ballroom. Caleb smiled, for these chambers had always been for one purpose and one purpose only. It seemed he would have his relief after all, and surely he would forget Marah once that happened.

Alyssa closed the door behind them and turned toward him. “I heard about your father, Caleb,” she said softly. “I am sorry.”

He shook his head. “Thank you.”

When he said nothing more, Alyssa nodded. “But you don't want to talk to me about that.”

“No,” he said softly as he took her hand and drew her closer. “Will your current protector be angry that you took me in here alone?”

She smiled. “I have no protector now, Caleb. I no longer need one. If I take a lover now, it is for pleasure.” She punctuated the statement by placing her hands on his chest and leaning closer. “
My
pleasure.”

Caleb tilted her head up and dropped his mouth down on hers. She parted her lips and the kiss deepened. He sank into it, waiting for the hard, harsh, tingling demands of pleasure to wash over him and take away all other feelings. But even as he kissed her, even as Alyssa rubbed her body against him with suggestive arches and sighs, he felt nothing. No stirring in his loins. No aching of his cock. No boiling of his blood.

He drew away and stared down at Alyssa. She lacked nothing, and yet he felt nothing.

“Caleb?” she murmured as he stepped away.

“I'm sorry,” he said as he turned his back to her.

She stepped closer, but made no attempt to touch him. “How long has it been since you were with a woman?”

He shut his eyes, picturing Marah as she shivered in pleasure beneath him on the settee in his brother's house. Her eyes holding his as she gasped when he breached her. Unlike when he kissed Alyssa, the memory stirred his loins.

“A long time,” he choked.

“Who is she?” Alyssa said softly.

He spun on her with a frown. “Who? There isn't anyone.”

Alyssa smiled. “I've been in the business of pleasure and love a long time, my dear. I can recognize when a man is using me to forget another woman. And when he fails.”

Caleb pursed his lips. He didn't want to believe that Alyssa was correct, but the fact was his body refused to do what his mind screamed at it to achieve. For two years he had not been with a woman. He hadn't
wanted
any woman and he had told himself it was because of the high emotions of his situation.

But that wasn't true. And now he had to face it. It seemed, at least for now, that the only woman who made him ache, who made him ready, was Marah.

“But perhaps I'm wrong,” Alyssa said with a smile meant to soothe him. “You've been gone a long time from the wild life, and maybe you are simply having trouble coming back. Perhaps after a few weeks, you'll be back in this room with me, making me forget every other man who ever touched me.”

He smiled. “That would be a feat indeed.”

“Now, come back to the party and indulge in my spirits and talk to your friends and enjoy yourself.” She patted his cheek before she held the door open for him. “It seems you need that escape.”

“Indeed, I do, Alyssa,” he said as he walked into the crowd once more. “Indeed, I do.”

Chapter 8

A
lthough the orchestra was more than proficient, their beautiful music clanged in Marah's ears as she stood at the edge of a dance floor, watching other couples spin around in each other's arms. Well, it wasn't really
couples
she was watching, but one irritating man.

Caleb had not been without a partner all night. The ladies he had danced with had each been more beautiful than the other and there was a group of women who simply stared at him, either awaiting their turn in his arms . . . or plotting their futures with him.

“You are staring again.”

Marah folded her arms, pushed out a huff of breath, and turned on Victoria with a glare. “I don't know what you mean. I was simply observing the dance, I wasn't staring at him.”

“Him?” Victoria said as she arched a brow.

Marah's cheeks grew hot. “Them. Anyone. No one. I wasn't staring, that's all I meant.”

“Of course.” Victoria chuckled.

“Ladies.”

Marah turned to find Justin approaching them, a broad smile on his handsome face. In one hand, he held a drink, which he offered to her. “I brought you punch, Marah.”

She smiled as she took the drink. “Thank you.”

Justin turned to Victoria. “And to you, I brought my hand. My lady, will you dance with me?”

Victoria laughed as she took the hand he offered. “I would very much like to dance with you.”

He leaned forward and whispered something in her ear. Victoria's laughter faded and a blush filled her cheeks, but she nodded in response and then tossed a quick smile to Marah before the couple moved onto the dance floor.

Marah couldn't help but stare as Justin swept his wife into arms and they began to move in perfect accord and tandem. Each step was in time and there could be no doubt, by the way they stared into each other's eyes, that they were desperately, and rather unfashionably, in love with each other.

Marah forced her smile to remain on her face, but in truth she had to admit that jealousy was one of her reactions as she watched the happy couple. The kind of love they shared wasn't something she could ever expect. Certainly not from Emerson, who had never shown much interest toward anything except, perhaps, making money. And not from Caleb, who had shown her much passion but little else.

Suddenly she felt a touch on her elbow and snapped from her reverie to find Caleb at her side. She jerked herself away from him before she could control the action and stared. They hadn't been alone since the afternoon he kissed her after their luncheon with Emerson. That was three days past and he had been gone from the house with his father during the day and God knew where at night.

“Good evening,” Caleb said softly, though he didn't smile.

She nodded, trying to relax. “You startled me, Mr. Talbot. Hello.”

He moved into place beside her, watching the dancers bob by to the beat of the music.

“You aren't dancing,” he finally said.

Marah stiffened, but forced herself to be cordial. “I suppose I'm not.”

“Isn't your beau here?”

Now she cast a quick glare at him. “You know very well that Emerson isn't in our circles and likely wouldn't be invited here.”

“Emerson,” Caleb repeated. “How familiar of you.”

She growled out her frustration and turned to go, but Caleb caught her elbow. “Come now, Marah. I was only teasing. Don't go.”

She glared at him, but when she saw that a few people around them were staring, she didn't storm off. There was no reason to cause talk.

“I don't appreciate your teasing. Nor your statements about my friend,
Mr. Winstead
.”

“I didn't make any statements,” Caleb argued. “In truth, I thought Victoria and Justin said they intended to arrange for some invitations for the gentleman. That was all I meant when I asked if he was here.”

Marah looked at him, trying to decipher if he was lying or telling the truth. She couldn't tell, so she murmured, “Oh.”

“Not every comment should be construed as an attack, Marah,” Caleb said softly, his gaze fixated firmly on her face.

Marah's cheeks grew hot and she looked away. Suddenly this conversation felt very intense and entirely inappropriate for the setting. She shook away her discomfort and searched for a less meaningful topic.

“
You
have had no lack of partners tonight, Mr. Talbot. I believe you may be this Season's most eligible bachelor if you continue on in this fashion.”

He shrugged and she could see he truly cared little for the pursuit of the women he had chatted and danced with. That fact gave her a thrill that she promptly squashed.

“Well,” he said, “you know the ladies of the
ton
, they are always on the hunt. I am foreign game, so I interest them presently, but soon they will go back to their regular quarry.”

“I don't know,” she said with a glare at one of the girls who was still mooning at Caleb from across the room. “You might be surprised.”

Caleb's smile fell and there was a troubled line to his mouth, but then he shook his head and glanced down at her as the orchestra ended one song and after a beat, changed to another. The couples on the floor joined hands as they filtered on and off.

“Will you dance with me, Marah?” Caleb asked.

Marah stared at the dance floor. She wasn't entirely proficient in dancing and she had seen enough of Caleb tonight to know he was very good. She didn't want to make a cake of herself. And she also wasn't certain she could stand having his arms around her even while they turned around and around the floor. Being so close to him . . . it was difficult.

“I'm not sure.”

Caleb slipped a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face up toward his. “Please?”

She swallowed as his bright blue eyes focused entirely on her. In that moment, she recognized just how much she wanted to be held by him, especially in this entirely appropriate place where she could pretend it didn't matter. That it was all for the dance and not because she wanted to be in his arms despite all her claims to the contrary.

Finally she nodded. “Yes.”

He didn't respond but simply grinned, took her hand, and led her to the dance floor.

C
aleb had spent an evening being flirted with and flirting in return with dozens of beautiful women. Any of them were appealing, but he hadn't felt truly comfortable until he slipped his hand around Marah's waist and gently urged her into movement as the music began to play.

From the first step, it was obvious Marah wasn't an experienced dancer. She was uncertain and timid as he led her into the first turn of the dance. But she had a natural rhythm and delicacy to her movements so that soon she was making the turns and moving her feet in time.

He smiled at her as she became more comfortable. “You know,” he said, “this is the first time we have done this since we met.”

“I suppose that is true. Honestly, it isn't something I've done very often at all,” Marah said as she glanced down at her feet quickly and her brow wrinkled with intense concentration. “Though I'm certain you have already noticed that from my fumbling.”

“Nonsense, you are doing fine,” Caleb said, moving his head to force her to look at him, for he knew that would make her forget her feet and move more naturally. “Though I wonder why you haven't danced more in your life.”

She shrugged, her grip on his arm tightening as they spun into the next movement.

“Well, as you know, I didn't grow up with Society such as this,” she explained. “When my father abandoned me to the countryside with my grandmother after my mother died, she was more interested in teaching me about useful herbs than having me tutored in dancing or dead languages.”

Caleb tilted his head as he looked at her closer. “I hadn't really thought of that.”

She glanced up, her mind taken from her steps for a brief moment. There wasn't any judgment to her face or in her voice when she said, “Why would you? In truth, Caleb, we don't know each other. Circumstances forced us to believe we did, but we . . . we don't.”

His brow wrinkled. She was right, of course. Marah had been dropped into his life by a most odd collection of circumstances and he had bonded to her in a moment of grief and pain for them both. He felt a powerful draw to her, but so much of her remained a mystery to him. A mystery he longed to solve with growing intensity.

Her gaze flitted away, as if the intensity of his stare suddenly made her uncomfortable. She swallowed and said, “We've seen each other so little in the past few days, I haven't had a chance to ask you how your time with the marquis has been going.”

Now it was Caleb who was made uncomfortable by the subject and he actually missed a step in the dance before he managed to gather himself.

Aside from Justin, he hadn't engaged in discussion about his father with anyone. Even when Alyssa had brought it up a few days ago, he had dismissed the topic before he was forced to go into it with any real depth. But with Marah, he felt less trapped by the situation. He could be open with her and knew she would offer him nothing but quiet support in return.

“I won't lie and tell you it isn't difficult,” he said slowly. “But despite his illness, the time we share together is good. He hasn't always approved of me and my actions, but now we seem to be past that.”

Marah's smile was gentle. “I'm glad to hear it.”

He nodded. “I believe my mother intends to have the whole family for supper tomorrow night.”

“Yes, I heard Victoria talking about it earlier in the evening after she returned home from her visit with your father and mother.”

He glanced at her and suddenly wondered what his sister and his mother would think of her. What his father would say about her beauty and charm.

“You are quite welcome to join us, you know,” he burst out without thinking.

Marah came to a stop and Caleb realized the music had ended, though in truth he hadn't even heard it for the past few moments. He'd been too focused on her, and that didn't stop even as the other couples jostled around them in their attempts to leave the open floor.

“Yes, Justin kindly extended that invitation to me as well, but I don't know,” Marah said with a blush. “I wouldn't want to intrude.”

Caleb took her hand. She stared as he lifted it and he felt her tremble ever so slightly when he tucked it into the crook of his arm and drew her away from the dance floor before the orchestra began its next piece.

“Please do come,” he insisted. “I believe my mother and my sister might like the company. Having a guest for supper will bring them a touch of normalcy in this difficult situation.”

Marah's lips parted and he could see he had touched on her natural desire to help others. But she still struggled. Because of him.

Finally she nodded. “Of course I'll attend if you think it would please your family.”

“Good,” Caleb said with a flash of a grin. They stood staring at each other for a long moment until Marah shifted and flitted her gaze away from his. With a shrug, Caleb said, “I, er, I promised the next to Victoria, so I suppose I should go collect her.”

Marah smiled as she peered out over the crowd. In the distance, Caleb found Victoria standing beside Justin. His arm was around her and her face was upturned to his as he whispered something to her. Without hearing a word of it, Caleb knew exactly what was said, or at least the sentiment of the unheard words. A whisper of love and devotion and desire that was so comfortable that it didn't seem odd or difficult to say or hear it.

And he flushed as he purposefully kept his eyes away from Marah as he said, “That is, if I can tear her away from Justin.”

“Well, good luck with that,” she murmured, also keeping her stare from his as she fumbled with the hem of her sleeve. “Good evening.”

He cast a quick glance over his shoulder at her before he nodded. “Yes, good evening.”

But as he walked away, leaving her behind, he wondered how good an evening he could really expect to have. The woman he wanted was out of reach and it seemed no one else could stir even a fraction of his interest.