George watched as Caroline accepted the wine from the maid who brought it to the bedchamber. She tossed it back and gave him a wicked, yet not entirely steady, smile.
After their meeting in Hatchards, he had not been given reason to think anything was wrong, that he had not erred by asking too much of her. He knew she wanted him as urgently as he wanted her. But this was his first time engaging a more permanent mistress; it was entirely possible he was ignorant of some aspects of the usual arrangements.
Whatever she asked of him, he would deliver. In exchange for having her to himself, he would offer her almost everything.
“Well?” he prompted when she said nothing. “You needn’t be afraid of asking things of me—you need only say the word and they are yours.”
“You are all that is charming.” She handed him a crystal glass filled with burgundy liquid. “But this is not about material things—this is about boundaries.”
He sipped his wine, considering her carefully. There was a hectic flush to her cheeks. “Such as?”
“You may not stay the night.”
“Oh?” His brows rose. At Worthington Hall, they had slept together after finishing, and he had woken to find her in his arms. The entire proceeding had felt entirely natural.
Then again, he should have known that in London, things would be different.
“At which time would you prefer me to leave?” he asked, glancing at the gilded clock on her mantelpiece.
“Whenever we have concluded the night’s business.” She gave him a smile. “Once we are done together, I will call for your carriage and you will go.”
A shame—he had not been eager to visit her only for the pleasure her body could bring, as considerable as that was. He also prized the quieter times they were together, where lust fell into companionship. No other lady had given that to him, and been so willing to cross intellectual swords.
Still, if these were the terms he was to have her, he would obey.
“I will miss sleeping in your arms,” he said simply.
She started as though his words were an unwelcome shock, and took another drink. “Well,” she said. “Don’t get too attached, because the moment you marry, this ends.”
He had expected that, as much as he disliked the thought. “Hardly an incentive to hurry and find a wife,” he said.
“But you must. You said so yourself.”
“What’s the rush? Afraid you’ll fall in love with me?”
After a moment of stunned silence, her brow arched and she gave a low, rich chuckle. “Love? Oh no. Believe me, darling, I have no intention of falling in love.”
“Then there’s no need to rush. Unless you were hoping to return to another man’s bed?” The thought brought another dark wave of jealousy with it, but he fought it back.
“No,” she said, her voice a little rough as she came to straddle him where he sat on the edge of the bed. “There’s no one else.”
“Good.” He was almost alarmed by the force of his response. He had wanted before, yes, but never with this single-minded ferocity. “Now, what if I wish to take you out and have you on my arm?”
“You’d better not.”
“Why?”
Her mouth ghosted along his jaw. “My reputation isextremelypoor.”
“Because you take lovers?”
“Precisely. Mothers despise me and seek to keep their daughters far away from my corruption.” She gave a humourless laugh. “You would do well not to flaunt me across London if you are in search of a wife.”
He had never been less inclined to marry. “I hardly think my reputation will suffer.” He unpinned her hair, letting it fall in glorious curls across her shoulders. “Evenif I should take a lover.”
“Can you be so certain?”
“It’s not so unusual for a gentleman to take a mistress, Caroline.”
