He supposed that was a compliment, but with a man like Jasper Sutton, one could never be sure. Then again, with a missing memory, one couldn’t be sure of anything at all.
Chapter 9
Caro’s hands trembled as she awaited Gavin. She had performed every task she could as she counted the minutes until he would arrive at her room. Industriousness had distracted her as she took down her hair and brushed it, as she stepped out of her scandalous gown and tight stays, and as she slipped into a far more comfortable night rail with a dressing gown atop the entire affair. She had tidied the books on the bedside table. Had paced the carpet at least three dozen times. Had studied her reflection in the looking glass and draped all her hair over her left shoulder, then her right shoulder, and then she had heaved a sigh and sent it all cascading down her back.
Now, she was back to pacing the length of the chamber once more, wondering when he would arrive. And wondering whether or not she would go mad before he would appear. They had parted ways after their meeting with Jasper, and her heart was still overwhelmed with the manner in which he had championed her.
Her warrior had faced Lord Derby, and he had also faced Jasper. Not many men would have been brave enough to do so. How she admired him. He was kind and true and good, Gavin Winter. Her love for him was growing stronger by the day, and she knew without a doubt she would need to speak with Jasper in the morning, regardless of what happened between herself and Gavin tonight.
He deserved to know the truth, and she could no longer bear the burden of keeping it from him. Her promise to Jasper would have to be broken. Her love for Gavin came first.
A gentle tap sounded on the door, and she went racing across her chamber, stopping and passing a quick hand over her riotous hair before she opened the door. He smiled when he saw her, and God’s teeth, he was handsome when he smiled.
She rose on her toes and cast a furtive glance down the hall behind him to make certain no one was about. “Come in,” she whispered.
His grin deepened as he crossed the threshold, the door closing at his back. “Why are we whispering?”
She chuckled at his question, which had been asked in a soft undertone. “I do not know. No doubt you think me silly, fretting over you being here.”
“I took great care, Caro. No one will know save us, but if you want me to go, I will.”
“No!” The vehemence of her response took the both of them by surprise, if his countenance was any indication.
He winked. Oh, he was a charmer and a rogue.
How she loved him.
“I’ll stay then, as long as you haven’t forgotten your promise?”
She had told him she would sing for him. A sudden rush of shyness hit her as she shook her head. “I have not forgotten. However, I do hope I won’t hurt your ears.”
“Never. The sound of your voice is the loveliest thing I have ever heard.” His eyes took on a glint as they swept over her.
She wondered if she should have donned another gown instead of the robe and night rail she wore. While modest, the combination was far more intimate than one of her work gowns would have been. She thrust the worry from her mind, for it was too late to change her dress. He was here, just where she wanted him, and that mattered more than anything else.
“Come and have a seat,” she said. “You ought to be comfortable, at least, if you must listen to me warble.”
Gamely, Gavin allowed her to take his good hand in hers and guide him to the chair positioned before her looking glass.
“As you wish it, but there is nomustabout listening to you sing. It is what I desire more than anything else. Well, it is what I desire that I can actuallyhavethis evening.” He dutifully sat.
She stood before him, those words of his tucking into her heart and sending heat blossoming between her thighs. A wicked urge bloomed.
You can have me, too, she wanted to say.
But that would be far too bold, and she had no wish for him to think her too common or forward. She wanted to impress him tonight. Because it may very well be the last they would share together after she confessed the truth to him on the morrow.
“I’ve never sung for a man like this before,” she admitted.
She had sung for her family in the past and for the patrons of The Sinner’s Palace. She had not sung for Philip, and never for a man whom she loved. Gavin was the only one. She knew with an aching, devastating certainty that he always would be.
The smile he gave her was tender. “I am honored to be the first treated to such a performance.”
She took a deep, fortifying breath, and felt a quiver of trepidation roll through her. Could she sing to him thus? It was such an intimate act. When she sang before the patrons, she often settled her gaze upon the wall or the ceiling; sometimes, she closed her eyes. But with Gavin, there was nowhere else she wanted to look.
All she wanted to see was him, to forever imprint the memory of this night, and the way he was gazing at her with undisguised adoration, upon her mind.
Holding his stare, she began to sing the lyrics of Dibdin’sThe Soldier’s Adieu. “Adieu, adieu my only life. My honor calls me from thee…” The nervousness subsided, her confidence growing as she warmed to the haunting melody and words. “When on the wings of thy dear love to heaven above…” And as she reached the final chorus, she softened her voice, allowing the sadness of the ditty to cloak her heart. “…shall call a guardian angel down to watch me in the battle.”
