Heapproached the study, swinging the door open.
“You shouldshut the door, darling. I wouldn’t want to catch cold.” Caro giggled.
LadyCaroline Fellowes was spread across his leather coach in nothing but a lacychemise. The filmy chemise hid nothing of her form beneath. Herflaming red hair trailed over the arm of the couch to pool on the floor below.
“Come warmme up!” Her arms opened wide to greet him, a seductive smile on her lips.
Suttonquietly shut the door. He would have to instruct McMannish that LadyFellowes was not to be let in the townhouse again. A headache beganbehind his eyes. His near murder and the excess of his stepmotherexhausted him. Sutton wanted a drink, a warm fire and to be left alone.
Her blue eyeswidened as they took in the scratches on his cheek and the torn jacket. “Whathappened? Did you fall off your horse?”
Anxiety andworry suffused her lovely features. He admitted that Caro probablydidcare something for him. Shelovedthe jealous looks from other womenwhen he chanced to escort her out.Lovedhis wealth.Adoredhis title. So transparent, his dear Caro, but one had to admire hertenacity.
“I stumbledin the street. It’s of no import.”
Raintrickled down the study windows in rivulets, giving a wavering appearance tothe street outside. Sutton shivered. Damn he was cold. The flamesin the fireplace roared into a crescendo of heat. Caro looked nice andwarm, even in her chemise. No, it was England that chilledhim. This cold, hard,island of his birth. Did he even belonghere?
At night he dreamtof a suffocating heat, a heat so wet with warmth a man had difficultybreathing. The kind of heat in which no cold, could live. A manwoke every day with sweat already clinging to his brow. The dense, greenjungle, reeking of rotting vegetation mixed with the exotic, floral scents hemuch preferred over the rotting refuse to be found in the streets ofLondon. Mornings in Macao, he awoke to the sound of monkeys chattering inthe thick brush that surrounded his compound. Well, he mused, he still heardthe chattering of monkeys, but here the monkeys were called theton.Sutton chuckled.
“What’s sofunny?” Caro sat up. She lifted one ivory shoulder, allowing herchemise to dip low, nearly exposing one round breast.
Sutton ranhis hand through his hair, determined not to bodily throw her out. “What areyou doing here, Caro?” He didn’t bother to hide the irritation in hisvoice.
Caro ignoredhis tone. “Well, the other night,” she said, stretching like a cat, “you seemedquite put out with me and I think I know why.” Her full lips pursed in apologyas she tossed a coppery strand over her shoulder. The chemise rode up herthighs.
Suttonwalked to the sideboard and poured himself a large glass of brandy. ClearlyCaro was bent on seduction. It was much too early in the day for brandy,but Sutton didn’t care. The brandy was from his father’s privatestore, and quite expensive. His father, he thought with a smile, enjoyeda good brandy. He sipped in the smoky warmth and wished his father stillalive. He missed his father, Robert. Sutton thanked God that Donataforced Sutton home, even though the circumstances were not of Sutton’schoosing. He had been with Robert at the end.
Caro gave apuff of irritation. She hated to be ignored.
“You weresaying?” He didn’t even bother looking interested, because he wasn’t, notin the least. He imagined the woman on his sofa to be smaller, but noless voluptuous.Alex. The hair a profusion ofchestnut curls, not copper strands. The eyes gray, not blue. Thesmell of tart, green apples filled his nose. An image of Alex, naked on hislap, reading to him, her mass of hair trailing over his arms, as he turned thepages of a book, flashed before him. He took another sip of the brandy.
“Darling, Isense you are cross with me. Have I made you jealous?” Caro battedher eyes at him and tried to sound despondent. “Viscount Lindley may havestolen a kiss in the gardens but I told you, it meant nothing. I shouldnothave taken a turn around the terrace with him. You aren’t going tochallengehim, are you?” Her face fairly beamed in delight at the thought oftwo Wickeds fighting over her. How Caro would enjoy the uproar.
Suttonsnorted. Nick, Viscount Lindley, could care less about Lady CarolineFellowes. Nick thought Caro a witless, vapid creature with only a nicepair of tits to recommend her. Caro’s machinations did not impressSutton’s best friend. Nor did they impress Sutton. His patiencewith Caro and her maneuvering in and out of his bed were over.
“You ignoredme at the opera, Cam. I’ll admit when Viscount Lindley asked to me to take theair with him, I thought to make you jealous. I had no idea,” she pauseddramatically, “that he would try to take liberties.” Caro slid across thecouch, perching herself on the edge in a display of half-naked flesh.
Sutton swirledthe brandy in his mouth. Caro had flounced over to Nick begging him totake her out for a breath of fresh air, least she faint.
“You know I’mnot interested in Viscount Lindley. His eyes….” Caro shuddereddelicately, “well they terrify me. Besides, it’s you I adore. I loveeverything about you. There is no other man for me.” She declared,allowing her breasts to spill out of the chemise.
Suttonpretended to mull over her declaration. “Hmmm. What is my youngersister’s name?”
Caro froze,looking like a startled deer. She bit her lip, at a loss.
“Well, I’mnot sure you ever mentioned her to me.”
“Her? I havetwo sisters. I’m positive I’ve mentioned both. You’ve met Mirandaseveral times, I believe. Elizabeth, she is the younger, is away at boardingschool in Scotland. I’m quite sure you know my grandmother, don’t you?”
Carofrowned, offended. Everyone in London knew the powerful DowagerMarchioness.
He wagged afinger at her, enjoying her discomfort. “Here’s an easy one then.How many estates do I have?”
She smiledbrilliantly, sure of herself. “Five. Cambourne House, this townhomewhere you currently live.” She waived her arms about the room. “Abachelor’s house with ill-mannered servants, which we will sell, once we’remarried. I can’t imagine why you prefer this place to Cambourne House.”
Suttonraised a brow, but didn’t stop her. Apparently Caro didn’t care forMcMannish.
She held upa hand, counting off the Cambourne assets. “Blackburn Heath, the family’sseat, Gray Covington and Baylor Manor in Scotland.”
