Christmas Carol (11 page)

While they were still locked in that first,
long kiss, Nicholas unfastened the clasp of her cloak. His hands
slid beneath the heavy folds, pushing back the thick wool and fur
so he could draw down the top of her gown. She was wearing a
yellow, gauzy dress this evening, with not much of a bodice between
the low neckline and the high waist, so it did not take much effort
for him to get it off her breasts. The air was cold on her bare
skin and his mouth was hot. And his hands—never had hands touched
her so gently, or wreaked such havoc upon her senses.

Carol moaned, pressing herself upward into
his hands, feeling her nipples harden against his palms. He pushed
down upon the yellow gauze again. Within a moment she was fully
revealed to him from waist to chin, his to touch and kiss and
fondle. And adore.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, though he surely
could see nothing in the darkness of the carriage. Now it was his
mouth caressing her breasts, first one and then the other. Carol
was filled with a sweet, surging warmth. His hand moved lower, over
her hip and between her thighs. “Exquisite. Caroline,
Caroline—”

Carol slid down onto the gray leather seat
with Nicholas on top of her. His hand stroked her inner thigh with
a slow, circling motion. The thin fabric of her gown offered no
barrier to erotic sensation. She shifted her legs, hoping, but not
daring to ask, that he would press upon and thus ease the aching
fullness between her thighs, which was beginning to make her
uncomfortable.

Nicholas’s crisp linen shirt was scratchy
against her breasts; the diamond head of the stickpin fastened in
his cravat was like ice on her lips as she strained upward,
searching for his mouth … and found it… and let him devour
her….

The carriage jolted to a stop. As if it were
happening far away, Carol heard one of the footmen jump to the
ground and begin walking across crunchy ice and snow toward the
door to open it.

“Dear God, Caroline, what am I doing?”
Hastily, Nicholas hauled her to a sitting position and pulled the
bodice of her gown upward. Carol heard a ripping sound as the
fabric gave way. She fumbled with her cloak, trying to cover
herself before the door was opened. Her gloved hands were shaking
so hard that she could not get the clasp hooked. She uttered a sob
of frustration, which was not caused solely by the recalcitrant
clasp.

“I have it.” Pushing her fingers aside,
Nicholas fastened the clasp and drew the edges of the cloak
together just as the footman flung the carriage door wide and let
down the step. There were torches flaming at either side of the
entrance to Marlowe House. Carol saw their fiery light reflected in
Nicholas’s eyes. Then he was out of the carriage and turning to
hand her down.

His self-control was amazing. Not by the
faintest crack in his haughty expression did he reveal what he and
Carol had been doing. He saw her safely inside her door with all
the cool self-possession of the born aristocrat.

“I have no doubt we will meet again tomorrow
evening,” he said, bowing while the butler looked on in open
appreciation of Nicholas’s good manners. “At yet another ball. Will
you save the first waltz for me? And allow me to take you in to
supper?”

“Certainly, my lord.” Taking her cue from
him, she gave him her trembling hand to kiss. “If I have counted
the days correctly, tomorrow is Christmas Eve.”

“It is indeed. When we meet at the ball I
shall take the opportunity to wish you an especially merry
Christmas.” For an instant a glowing fire in his eyes flared and
sparkled for her alone, giving a private meaning to his words
before he resumed his cool demeanor. “Until then, good night, my
dear.”

The butler closed the door after him and
turned to Carol.

“Your cloak, Lady Caroline?” He stood with
his hands outstretched to receive the garment.

“I think I will keep it on until I get to my
room and can take it off in front of the fire,” Carol told him. “I
am badly chilled after the cold ride home.” Actually, though it was
true she was trembling, she was far from cold. She was still
burning from Nicholas’s kisses and his entirely too intimate
caresses. Not knowing what damage he might have done to the fragile
fabric of her evening gown, she was afraid to remove the cloak
until she was in a more private place than the entrance hall.

She should have known that for aristocrats
there was seldom a private place. The maidservant Ella was waiting
for her in Lady Caroline’s bedroom, and there was no reason not to
let Ella take the cloak from her shoulders.

“I think I stepped on my skirt when I got out
of the carriage. I may have torn the dress,” Carol said, making up
the excuse on the spur of the moment.

“It’s only a little tear.” Ella did not
dispute Carol’s explanation. “It can easily be fixed. Oh, you are
shivering so hard! Into bed with you, my lady, and I’ll put a warm
brick at your feet so you don’t develop a chill.”

Eventually, following half an hour or so of
Ella’s well-meant ministrations, Carol was granted the privacy she
sought. Having tucked her mistress between warmed sheets, and after
repeated assurances from Carol that she was perfectly well, Ella
left the room.

The hot, flannel-wrapped brick at Carol’s
feet did not ease the shaking that seemed to come from the very
marrow of her bones. She sensed that it had something to do with
Nicholas’s lovemaking, because it had started when he began to talk
about sharing a bed with his future wife.

“Lady Caroline,” she whispered, having no
idea where the words were coming from save that she felt them in
her heart, “he will love you. You don’t have to be afraid anymore.
Nicholas will never hurt you. You can trust him.”

Slowly, very slowly, the shaking subsided. It
was as though a terrified, caged bird had been soothed and gentled
into a weary sleep.

What happened just now
? Carol kept
perfectly still, not wanting by any movement or another whispered
word to reawaken the frightened creature that must be Lady
Caroline’s consciousness.
Lady Augusta said we would be one
entity, and that I could not cause her any harm. Why, then, did she
wake up in abject fear when Nicholas began to make love to
me
?

Carol lay for a long time watching the
firelight cast flickering shadows around Lady Caroline’s beautiful
room. She tried not to think about Lady Caroline, or about Lady
Caroline’s fiance. That last attempt was a hopeless cause, for by
now Carol knew with painful certainty that she was never going to
stop thinking about Nicholas. She was falling deeply in love with
him—with a man who was not hers to love and never would be.

Marlowe House was in the process of
transformation. While the public rooms—the reception room and
ballroom and the great dining room—had been decorated for Lady
Caroline’s betrothal ball, those parts of the house daily used by
the family were traditionally decorated on the morning of Christmas
Eve Day so the decorations used would be fresh for the holiday
itself.

Coming down the stairs and into the hall,
Carol nearly collided with a footman whose vision was obscured by
the huge vase of fir, ivy, and holly he was carrying.

“Beg pardon, my lady. I didn’t see you.” The
footman set the vase down on the table in the center of the hall
and hastened away to follow the latest instructions from Lady
Augusta’s butler.

The cream and white drawing room was fragrant
with greenery. Knowing that Christmas trees would not become a part
of holiday decorations until later in the century, Carol did not
expect to see one. All the same, she was dazzled by the festive
appearance of bunches of evergreens, holly, and red and white
hothouse flowers, all tied with bright red ribbons.

In addition, the daily bouquets sent from
Nicholas to Lady Caroline and from Lord Simmons to Penelope were
also crowded into the drawing room, to add their fragrance and
color to the Christmas decor.

“Nicholas.” Carol picked up the card that
accompanied the bouquet meant for Lady Caroline. She touched one of
the deep red roses with trembling fingers. “What am I going to do
about you? How can I keep on lying to you?”

“Aunt Augusta has gone out.” Penelope poked
her head around the drawing room doorway. “Since you were still
asleep, she ordered me to supervise the decorating, but it is
almost finished. Come join me in the breakfast room, where it is
quieter and we can talk.”

Penelope put an arm around her waist and
Carol went with her, sliding her own arm around the girl. Carol had
been alone, or at least left to herself, for so much of her life
that until recently she’d thought it was normal. She had scarcely
known how much she missed and longed for the pleasures of ordinary
companionship. In Penelope she had found a true sister. Not even
the knowledge that she would at some point have to return to her
own time could mar Carol’s enjoyment of the hours they spent
together.

In the cheerful, pale yellow breakfast room
frosty sunlight streamed through the windows to touch the porcelain
bowl of holly sitting in the exact center of the table. The
sideboard was laden with kidneys, bacon, eggs, and assorted breads.
One of the servants poured coffee for Carol as soon as she sat down
at the table.

“Did you talk to Aunt Augusta before she
left?” Carol had not seen Lady Augusta since the previous evening
and she was beginning to wonder what was going on. She was almost
getting used to Lady Augusta watching her, so it seemed strange for
her ghostly companion to absent herself. Carol wanted to talk to
Lady Augusta about the sensation of Lady Caroline’s presence that
she had experienced. Perhaps Lady Augusta would have an explanation
for that occurrence.

“She told the butler she had some business to
transact,” Penelope said, biting into an iced bun. Carol smiled at
her, amused to see Penelope’s small pink tongue appear to lick a
particle of sugar glaze off her lower lip. Penelope possessed a
ready sweet tooth. Carol had noticed that wherever Penelope was, a
sweet bread or pastry, or a dish of candy, was always near at hand.
Penelope swallowed her bite of currant-stuffed bun and spoke again.
“Now that the decorating is nearly over, we are left to our own
devices this morning.”

“Morning?” Carol laughed. “It’s more like
early afternoon. What would you like to do, Penelope?”

“Shopping,” was the immediate answer. “I do
need several pairs of gloves. They dirty so quickly that I never
have enough. And Mary Anne Hampton told me last night that Madame
la Salle has the most delightful new bonnet in her millinery shop
window. I want to try it on. We can take Ella with us.”

“Then, shopping it is,” Carol agreed readily,
glad for the distraction. She hoped the excursion would help to
keep her thoughts off Lady Caroline for a while—and off the
disturbing subject of Nicholas.

The two young women spent a pleasant hour in
the shops along Bond Street. Carol enjoyed the opportunity to
compare the elegant shops to the ones she knew on the same street
in her own time. She bought gloves when Penelope did, and also a
small vial of rose-scented perfume for herself. She was not
altogether successful in her efforts to put Nicholas or Lady
Caroline out of her mind, but she did try her best to pay attention
to what Penelope was saying.

Penelope talked with delighted anticipation
about the Christmas Eve ball to be held that night at one of the
great London houses, about the plans for Lady Augusta and her two
nieces to attend a church service on Christmas morning, and about
the holiday meal Lady Augusta had arranged.

“I do so love Christmas dinner,” Penelope
went on. “Cook and her assistants are busy preparing the food. I
looked in on them this morning before you were out of bed, my dear.
We shall have a wonderful, plump goose to eat, and cakes with sugar
icing, and the biggest Christmas pudding you ever saw! There is so
much food that it’s a good thing Nicholas will join us. We will
need a manly appetite to help us eat it all. Aunt Augusta said she
is inviting Lord and Lady Falloner, too, and their niece. I wish
Alwyn’s father would not insist that he remain at home for the
day.”

“Perhaps it’s just as well,” Carol said with
great seriousness. When Penelope looked at her in a questioning
way, she added, “If Lord Simmons ever realizes just how many sweets
you consume, he will certainly break off your engagement in utter
despair.”

“Caroline, do not tease me!” Penelope
dissolved into laughter.

On their way from shop to shop they paused
now and then to greet other ladies they knew, and there were a few
gentlemen strolling along Bond Street, too. Carol was not at all
surprised to recognize Lord Simmons among them. Upon spying
Penelope he came to her at once, and though his greeting to Carol
was polite enough, it was plain to her where his real interest
lay.

“May I invite both of you to join me for
chocolate and a pastry?” asked Lord Simmons.

“Oh, yes,” breathed Penelope, her blue eyes
fixed on his face. “I should like it above anything.”

When Lord Simmons looked toward Carol as if
expecting her to agree to his invitation, she made a fast decision.
She suspected this meeting with Lord Simmons was not entirely by
chance. She also believed that Lord Simmons and Penelope were
responsible young people who would not trespass beyond the
boundaries of propriety. And then there was Ella, who stood behind
Carol with her arms full of packages. Penelope would be perfectly
safe with Lord Simmons, and with Ella present as chaperone no one
could question her discretion.

“I still have several more errands to
complete,” Carol said to Lord Simmons. “But there is no reason why
Penelope cannot go with you. I will just finish my shopping and
then hire a coach to take me back to Marlowe House so Penelope can
use our carriage.” She could tell from the startled expressions of
her two companions that it was not quite the thing for a lady to
hire a carriage for herself, but Carol did not care. She was
finding all the restrictions placed upon unmarried ladies
increasingly tedious, and she had just decided upon a particular
errand for which she did not want any company. First, she had to
find out where Nicholas was.