Four In Hand (22 page)

On entering the Penbright ballroom, the three younger Twinnings melted into the crowd but Caroline remained beside Max, anchored by his hand under her elbow. To her confusion, she found that one of the major purposes of a masked ball seemed to be to allow those couples who wished to spend an entire evening together without creating a scandal to do so. Certainly, her guardian appeared to have no intention of quitting her side.

While the musicians were tuning up, she was approached in a purposeful manner by a grey domino, under which she had no difficulty in recognizing the slight frame of Mr. Willoughby. The poor man was not entirely sure of her identity and Caroline gave him no hint. He glared at the tall figure by her side, which resulted in a slow, infuriating grin spreading across that gentleman’s face. Then, as Mr. Willoughby cleared his throat preparatory to asking the lady in the aqua domino for the pleasure of the first waltz, Max got in before him.

After her second waltz with her guardian, who was otherwise behaving impeccably, Caroline consented to a stroll about the rooms. The main ballroom was full and salons on either side took up the overflow. A series of interconnecting rooms made Caroline’s head spin. Then, Max embarked on a long and involved anecdote which focused her attention on his masked face and his wickedly dancing eyes.

She should, of course, have been on her guard, but Caroline’s defences against her dangerous guardian had long since fallen. Only when she had passed through the door he held open for her, and discovered it led into a bedroom, clearly set aside for the use of any guests overcome by the revels downstairs, did the penny drop. As she turned to him, she heard the click of the lock falling into its setting. And then Max stood before her, his eyes alight with an emotion she dared not define. That slow grin of his, which by itself turned her bones to jelly, showed in the shifting light from the open windows.

She put her hands on his shoulders, intending to hold him off, yet there was no strength behind the gesture and instead, as he drew her against him, her arms of their own accord slipped around his neck. She yielded in that first instant, as his lips touched hers, and Max knew it. But he saw no reason for undue haste. Savouring the feel of her, the taste of her, he spun out their time, giving her the opportunity to learn of each pleasure as it came, gently guiding her to the chaise by the windows, never letting her leave his arms or that state of helpless surrender she was in.

———

Caroline Twinning was heady stuff, but Max remembered he had a question for her. He drew back to gaze at her as she lay, reclining against the colourful cushions, her eyes unfocused as his long fingers caressed the satin smoothness of her breasts as they had once before in the carriage on the way back from the Richardsons’ ball, with Miriam Alford snoring quietly in the corner. “Caro?”

Caroline struggled to make sense of his voice through the haze of sensation clouding her mind. “Mmm?”

“Sweet Caro,” he murmured wickedly, watching her efforts. “If you recall, I once asked you if, were I not your guardian, you would permit me to be alone with you. Do you still think, if that was the case, you’d resist?”

To Caroline, the question was so ridiculous that it broke through to her consciousness, submerged beneath layers of pleasurable sensation. A slight frown came to her eyes as she wondered why on earth he kept asking such a hypothetical question. But his hands had stilled so it clearly behoved her to answer it. “I’ve always resisted you,” she declared. “It’s just that I’ve never succeeded in impressing that fact upon you. Even if you weren’t my guardian, I’d still try to resist you.” Her eyes closed and she gave up the attempt at conversation as his hands resumed where they had left off. But all too soon they stilled again.

“What do you mean, even if I weren’t your guardian?”

Caroline groaned. “Max!” But his face clearly showed that he wanted her answer, so she explained with what patience she could muster. “This, you and me, together, would be scandalous enough if you weren’t my guardian, but you are, so it’s ten times worse.” She closed her eyes again. “You must know that.”

Max did, but it had never occurred to him that she would have readily accepted his advances even had he not had her guardianship to tie her to him. His slow smile appeared. He should have known. Twinnings and rakes, after all. Caroline, her eyes still closed, all senses focused on the movement of his hands upon her breasts, did not see the smile, nor the glint in her guardian’s very blue eyes that went with it. But her eyes flew wide open when Max bent his head and took one rosy nipple into his mouth.

“Oh!” She tensed and Max lifted his head to grin wolfishly at her. He cocked one eyebrow at her but she was incapable of speech. Then, deliberately, his eyes holding hers, he lowered his head to her other breast, feeling her tense in his arms against the anticipated shock. Gradually, she relaxed, accepting that sensation too. Slowly, he pushed her further, knowing he would meet no resistance. She responded freely, so much so that he was constantly drawing back, trying to keep a firm hold on his much tried control. Experienced as he was, Caroline Twinning was something quite outside his previous knowledge.

Soon, they had reached that subtle point beyond which there would be no turning back. He knew it, though he doubted she did. And, to his amazement, he paused, then gently disengaged, drawing her around to lean against his chest so that he could place kisses in the warm hollow of her neck and fondle her breasts, ensuring she would stay blissfully unaware while he did some rapid thinking.

The pros were clear enough, but she would obviously come to him whenever he wished, now or at any time in the future. Such as tomorrow. The cons were rather more substantial. Chief among these was that tonight they would have to return to the ball afterwards, usually a blessing if one merely wanted to bed a woman, not spend the entire night with her. But, if given the choice, he would prefer to spend at least twenty-four hours in bed with Caroline, a reasonable compensation for his forbearance to date. Then, too, there was the very real problem of her sisters. Despite the preoccupation of his hands, he knew that a part of his mind was taken up with the question of what they were doing while he and his love were otherwise engaged. He would infinitely prefer to be able to devote his entire attention to the luscious person in his arms. He sighed. His body did not like what his mind was telling it Before he could change his decision, he pulled Caroline closer and bent to whisper in her ear. “Caro?”

She murmured his name and put her hand up to his face. Max smiled. “Sweetheart, much as I’d like to complete your education here and now, I have a dreadful premonition of what hideous scandals your sisters might be concocting with both of us absent from the ballroom.”

He knew it was the right excuse to offer, for her mind immediately reasserted itself. “Oh, dear,” she sighed, disappointment ringing clearly in her tone, deepening Max’s smile. “I suspect you’re right”

“I know I’m right,” he said, straightening and sitting her upright. “Come, let’s get you respectable again.”

———

As soon as she felt sufficiently camouflaged from her guardian’s eye by the gorgeously coloured throng, Lizzie Twinning made her way to the ballroom window further from the door. It was the meeting place Sarah had stipulated where Sir Ralph was to await further instructions. He was there, in a dark green domino and a black mask.

Lizzie gave him her hand. “Good!” The hand holding hers trembled. She peered into the black mask. “You’re not going to let Arabella down, are you?”

To her relief, Sir Ralph swallowed and shook his head. “No. Of course not. I’ve got my carriage waiting, as Miss Sarah suggested. I wouldn’t dream of deserting Miss Arabella.”

Despite the weakness in his voice, Lizzie was satisfied. “It’s all right,” she assured him. “Arabella is wearing a rose-pink domino. It’s her favourite colour so you should recognise it. We’ll bring her to you, as we said we would. Don’t worry,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze, “it’ll all work out for the best, you’ll see.” She patted his hand and, returning it to him, left him. As she moved down the ballroom, she scanned the crowd and picked out Caroline in her aqua domino waltzing with a black domino who could only be their guardian. She grinned to herself and the next instant, walked smack into a dark blue domino directly in her path.

“Oh!” She fell back and put up a hand to her mask, which had slipped.

“Lizzie,” said the blue domino in perfectly recognizable accents, “what were you doing talking to Keighly?”

“Martin! What a start you gave me. My mask nearly fell. Wh…what do you mean?”

“I mean, Miss Innocence,” said Martin sternly, taking her arm and compelling her to walk beside him on to the terrace, “that I saw you come into the ballroom and then, as soon as you were out of Max’s sight, make a beeline for Keighly. Now, out with it! What’s going on?”

Lizzie was in shock. What was she to do? Not for a moment did she imagine that Martin would agree to turn a blind eye to their scheme. But she was not a very good liar. Still, she would have to try. Luckily, the mask hid most of her face and her shock had kept her immobile, gazing silently up at him in what could be taken for her usual innocent manner. “But I don’t know what you mean, Martin. I know I talked to Sir Ralph, but that was because he was the only one I recognized.”

The explanation was so reasonable that Martin felt his sudden suspicion was as ridiculous as it had seemed. He felt decidedly foolish. “Oh.”

“But now you’re here,” said Lizzie, putting her hand on his arm. “So I can talk to you.”

Martin’s usual grin returned. “So you can.” He raised his eyes to the secluded walks, still empty as the dancing had only just begun. “Why don’t we explore while we chat?”

Lately, Lizzie had been in the habit of refusing such invitations but tonight she was thankful for any suggestion that would distract Martin from their enterprise. So she nodded and they stepped off the terrace on to the gravel. They followed a path into the shrubbery. It wended this way and that until the house was a glimmer of light and noise beyond the screening bushes. They found an ornamental stream and followed it to a lake. There was a small island in the middle with a tiny summer-house, reached by a rustic bridge. They crossed over and found the door of the summer-house open.

“Isn’t this lovely?” said Lizzie, quite enchanted by the scene. Moonbeams danced in a tracery of light created by the carved wooden shutters. The soft swish of the water running past the reed-covered banks was the only sound to reach their ears.

“Mmm, yes, quite lovely,” murmured Martin, enchanted by something quite different. Even Lizzie in her innocence heard the warning in his tone but she turned only in time to find herself in his arms. Martin tilted.her face up and smiled gently down at her. “Lizzie, sweet Lizzie. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

Lizzie’s eyes grew round. Martin’s arms closed around her, gentle yet quite firm. It seemed unbelievable that their tightness could be restricting her breathing, yet she found herself quite unable to draw breath. And the strange light in Martin’s eyes was making her dizzy. She had meant to ask her sisters for guidance on how best to handle such situations but, due to her absorption with their schemes, it had slipped her mind. She suspected this was one of those points where using one’s wits came into it. But, as her tongue seemed incapable of forming any words, she could only shake her head and hope that was acceptable.

“Ah,” said Martin, his grin broadening. “Well, you’re so very beautiful, sweetheart, that I’m afraid I can’t resist. I’m going to kiss you again, Lizzie. And it’s going to be thoroughly enjoyable for both of us.” Without further words, he dipped his head and, very gently, kissed her. When she did not draw back, he continued the caress, prolonging the sensation until he felt her response. Gradually, with the moonlight washing over them, he deepened the kiss, then, as she continued to respond easily, gently drew her further into his arms. She came willingly and Martin was suddenly unsure of the ground rules. He had no wish to frighten her, innocent as she was, yet he longed to take their dalliance further, much further. He gently increased the pressure of his lips on hers until they parted for him. Slowly, continually reminding himself of her youth, he taught her how pleasurable a kiss could be. Her responses drove him to seek more.

Kisses were something Lizzie felt she could handle. Being held securely in Martin’s arms was a delight. But when his hand closed gently over her breast she gasped and pulled away. The reality of her feelings hit her. She burst into tears.

“Lizzie?” Martin, cursing himself for a fool, for pushing her too hard, gathered her into his arms, ignoring her half-hearted resistance. “I’m sorry, Lizzie. It was too soon, I know. Lizzie? Sweetheart?”

Lizzie gulped and stifled her sobs. “It’s true!” she said, her voice a tear-choked whisper. “They said you were a rake and you’d want to take me to bed and I didn’t believe them but it’s
true
.” She ended this astonishing speech on a hiccup.

Martin, finding much of her accusation difficult to deny, fastened on the one aspect that was not clear. “They—who?”

“Sarah and Bella and Caro. They said you’re all rakes. You and Max and Lord Darcy and Lord Denbigh. They said there’s something about us that means we attract rakes.”

Finding nothing in all this that he wished to dispute, Martin kept silent. He continued to hold Lizzie, his face half buried in her hair. “What did they suggest you should do about it?” he eventually asked, unsure if he would get an answer.

The answer he got was unsettling. “Wait.”

Wait
. Martin did not need to ask what for. He knew.

———

Very much later in the evening, when Martin had escorted Lizzie back to the ballroom, Max caught sight of them from the other side of the room. He had been forced to reassess his original opinion of the youngest Twinning’s sobriety. Quite how such a youthful innocent had managed to get Martin into her toils he could not comprehend, but one look at his brother’s face, even with his mask in place, was enough to tell him she had succeeded to admiration. Well, he had warned him.