Chapter 8
As Caroline should have expected, William did not give her much time to get used to the idea of marrying Sebastian Fairchild. In fact, the announcement of Caroline and Sebastian’s engagement spread through the ton like wildfire. Of course, William Wentworth wasted no time in declaring that the pair had been privately engaged for weeks—claiming that this had been kept secret due to the Wentworth family’s desire for privacy.
“We are not people who are fond of the gossip mill,” he stated firmly to everyone, “and we thought that an announcement was unnecessary but now, with the two of them having been caught together so indiscreetly we had to admit that they were about to get married all along,” he explained, the lie rolling off his tongue with practiced ease.
Caroline, however, noticed quite quickly that this lie did little to quell the whispers and speculative glances that followed her wherever she went. For her part, she felt as though she were trapped in a nightmare—one from which she could not awaken.
She had always known that one day she’d marry. It was what was expected. However, marrying under the shadow of a scandal, especially one involving her sister, meant that her mother blatantly refused to share with her the realities of marriage—leaving Caroline to reach for the hidden stash of novels she kept tucked away beneath her marriage. Her heart ached as shereached for one in particular, remembering how often she and Beatrice had giggled over it in secret.
She’d always been too shy to read it all the way through—merely skimming certain pages as her cheeks tinted crimson with the words. Now though, without her mother’s guidance, she scanned the pages desperately—hopeful for any hint of what she might expect from her marital bed.
Caroline’s cheeks flushed with heat as her eyes traveled over the pages—her pulse quickening at the descriptions of heaving bosoms and throbbing manhoods, of stolen kisses and wanton caresses. The heroine, an innocent maiden not unlike herself, trembled with longing as a rugged lover lay her down upon the bed—his hands roaming over her curves with eager abandon.
Would this… would this be her marriage?
Caroline squirmed uncomfortably at this vivid image, pressing her thighs together. Though she did not want to entertain the thought, she could not help but imagine the touch of Sebastian’s fingers on her skin, the press of his lips against her own. Even as the thought terrified her, it filled her with an aching desire.
She slammed the book shut quickly and tucked it back into its hiding place, her breath coming in shallow gasps. The novel had done nothing to ease her anxiety. Instead, it awakened a curiosity within her.
The curiosity made room for even more fear however, when her father insisted that the wedding take place as quickly and quietly as possible—in yet another attempt to convince the ton that the engagement was not a recent one.
To Caroline, it came as a fair bit of a shock when her father announced that she’d marry within a fortnight.
“Father,” she protested weakly. “Surely… surely we can wait a week longer? I… we need time to prepare, to…”
William did not allow her to finish her thought, instead fixing her with a stern glare. “There is no time, Caroline,” he said coldly. “The longer we wait, the more people will speculate that perhaps this wedding had not been in the making already. We must act swiftly if we want any chance to put this scandal behind us.”
There was nothing she could do other than mutter a reserved “Yes, father.” She knew that arguing would not be tolerated.
The only thing that made this catastrophe bearable, was knowing that she was helping to preserve Beatrice’s reputation. Her sister had not spoken to her at all—but Caroline desperately clung to the hope that in saving Beatrice’s reputation, her sister would marry after all. This would restore their fractured relationship, she was certain of it.
Of course she had tried speaking to her sister, tried her best to explain everything to her but Beatrice did not want to listen to a word that came out of her sister’s mouth. Instead, she turned away whenever her sister entered the area she was in—speaking only in short syllables and avoiding any talk of the wedding.
As Caroline made her way to her bedchamber after yet another day of wedding planning and arrangements, her mind drifted to her future husband. Would he be a cruel or indifferent husband? Would they learn to love one another?
Desperate for a reprieve from her thoughts, Caroline once again turned to one of the worn little books beneath her mattress. She was not quite certain what it was she was looking for—all she knew was that she needed answers of some kind to ease her nerves about her upcoming wedding. She paged through the book lazily, her eyes widening when she turned a page.
Lady Amelia trembled as Lord Thornton’s strong hands roamed over her curves. His touch ignited a fire within her.
“My lord,” she gasped, her voice breathy with desire. “It’s not proper.”
“Hang propriety,” the rakish lord growled, his lips hot against Amelia’s ear. “I have waited too long to make you mine.”
With a suddenness that stole her breath, he captured her mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue plundered the sweet recesses of her mouth and Amelia melted against him. Her body molded easily to the hard planes of his chest as her hands thread through his hair.
Thornton tore his lips from hers and blazed a trail of heated kisses down her throat. “Tell me you want this,” he demanded in a gruff voice. “Tell me you burn for me as I burn for you.”
“I burn for you,” Lady Amelia whispered. “I burn for you, I yearn for you…”
With a groan of triumph, Thornton lowered the young maiden to the bed—his fingers deftly removing the fastenings of her gown. As the fabric fell away, baring her creamy flesh to his hungry gaze, Amelia knew that there was no turning back…
Caroline slammed the book shut, her heart racing and her cheeks flushed. A warmth pooled in the pit of her stomach and settled between her thighs. Would… would Sebastian take her in this way?
She shook her head guiltily and glanced at the door before sliding the book back to its hiding place. It was treacherous to entertain those thoughts, she told herself. She could never give herself to him… Could she?
As it had been since the fateful ball, Caroline’s sleep was erratic—intercut with memories and visions of the man who plagued her existence despite the fact that she had not seen him since agreeing to marry him.
This changed the very next day. In a woeful attempt to grant her sister some reprieve, Caroline had taken to remaining in her room when she was not busy with wedding planning—though her part of it consisted mostly of nodding and smiling.
