Geoffrey shrugged. “Better to be safe than sorry, as they say.”
“Lord Diamond is correct,” Caroline spoke up. “Imagine if it had been your sister, and you hadn’t gone to her aid. You would never have forgiven yourself. You probably should thank Lord Diamond.”
“But it wasn’t Lettie! That’s the point,” Lord Mangue fumed. “I missed out on the rest of the evening with you.”
“I kept her company,” Geoffrey added wickedly, causing Lord Mangue to narrow his eyes in his direction.
Caroline wished Geoffrey wouldn’t tease, nor bring attention to any time they’d spent in one another’s company, especially not to Lord Mangue.
“Are you sure you even saw anyone who looked like my sister?” he demanded.
“Oh, very sure, Mangue. Mole and all.”
“Lord Mangue, will you come greet the other guests?” This from Daphne, who like an angel was trying to draw him away.
“You must meet everyone,” Caroline insisted when he hesitated. “You wouldn’t want to insult our hosts, nor miss out on meeting whichever young lady requested your presence.”
He glanced at her and a smug smile appeared. “I see. Trying to throw me off the track like a red-headed vixen. I shall make the rounds and return.”
“Don’t hurry,” Geoffrey muttered when Lord Mangue finally walked away.
It was a brief respite from the tension between the two gentlemen. By the evening’s end, though, Caroline felt as though they were engaged in a tug of war with her as the rope. She sat beside Geoffrey for dinner, which had been extremely pleasant, allowing them to discuss each course with a measure of mirth, as well as learn more of their food likes and dislikes.
However, she ended up next to Lord Mangue for the concert, with no way to change seats without causing a huge disruption.
Finally, while they were having glasses of madeira during a beautiful dramatic recitation by Daphne, whose husband accompanied her softly on his violin, Geoffrey moved toward the drawing-room door.
He didn’t even have to look at her for Caroline to know he wished her to follow.
After waiting an interminable two minutes which she counted in her head, she leaned toward Lord Mangue.
“I shall be back shortly.”
“I’ll accompany you,” he offered, starting to rise.
“No,” she snapped. Then more graciously, “I am only going to the water closet.”
His cheeks turned red at the mere mention of such a private task, and she hurried away. The hallway seemed deserted, and Caroline had no idea which way to go.
“Psst,”came a sound from farther along the dimly lit hall, and she followed it.
Near the cellar door where the kitchen was housed, there was a butler’s pantry for serving the drawing room and other rooms on the main floor. Its door was ajar. As she approached, Geoffrey reached out and drew her swiftly inside.
Without preamble, his arms went around her. When he molded her body to his, heat sizzled through her.
“That was torture,” he ground out before kissing her.
As he slid his tongue between her lips, she slipped her hands up and around the back of his neck, flattening her breasts against him.
In response to her acquiescence, his hand roamed down her back to cup her rounded backside, tilting her hips against his. A wicked, desperate yearning unfolded deep inside her.
“Geoffrey,” she said his given name against his mouth, simply because she could.
“Yes, Caroline,” he replied, and she shivered at the intimacy.
Tilting her head and going up on tiptoe, she wanted to get as close to him as she could, until she could feel his arousal pressed against her.
“I want more,” she confessed.
