Chapter 24

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

F rederick found Miss Dowding standing on the balcony by herself. With her back to the door, she stood over the railing, looking out at the garden that surrounded the back of the manor. Seeing her there, noticing that the balcony was empty save for her, he took a moment to watch and admire her.

God, she was something else.

The moon was waning tonight, yet it still shone brightly upon Miss Dowding, illuminating her as if it shone purposefully to entice him. Her porcelain skin glimmered. Her dark hair glistened. Her dress, ocean blue in color, was strapless and sleeveless, hanging down her back and softly kissing her skin. From where he stood, he could make out her curves clearly, round and supple, soft and tempting, crying out for him to sneak in behind her and wrap his hands around them.

Behind him, Frederick could hear the ball in full swing, but out here, he felt alone with Miss Dowding, as if nothing else mattered, as if the world and all the people in it were nonexistent save for them.

"See something you like?" he asked as he started toward her.

She jumped and spun about, eyes wide in fear—more than he had expected. Indeed, she looked frightened, as if she had come out here to hide and was terrified at being caught. It had Frederick pausing, worried now that something was wrong.

"Your Grace…" She breathed a sigh of relief. "You scared me."

"I did not mean to."

She smiled for him, a sign that everything was fine, and he went to her. "You take pleasure in sneaking up on me, don't you."

He reached her, a quick glance to make sure that they were alone, and he stepped in and kissed her on the cheek… and then moved to her lips. She did not fight him, her hand moving to his waist and holding him there as her lips worked. The kiss, that was supposed to be a quick peck, grew to something more, and Frederick had to force himself to pull away.

"I had considered watching you and saying nothing," he admitted with a grin, "but then I would not have been able to kiss you."

She rolled her eyes. "A fair trade, I think."

For a moment, the two said nothing and simply looked at one another. Staring in their eyes, drinking it in, relishing this little tryst they had found themselves to be a part of. And again… God, she was beautiful.

What was wonderous two days it had been. Even the sneaking around and hiding had added a certain flavor to the situation that was as much fun as it was arousing. Speaking pleasantly in public and treating her in a most friendly manner, only to get her alone later on so that she might see his darker side.

Exploring her body each night had been a most magnificent thing. From tasting between her thighs to sucking on her glorious breasts to kneading her buttocks to licking her stomach and devouring every inch of her that he could, Frederick was ravenous around her. Uninhibited! Two days, and he knew the hunger he felt would not stop any time soon. Two days, and even here and now with so many people nearby, it was all he could do not to taste her once more.

Even still, he had not taken Miss Dowding to bed yet. Not in the proper sense. It was a decision he had made early on, to wait and enjoy Miss Dowding in other ways first. No need to rush. No need to bridge that final gap until he had confirmed that the two wanted the same thing. But oh, how hard it was to control himself each night he was with her. The sheer will power needed for such a thing…

"How did you find me?" she asked, stroking his arm, her smile soft.

"Lord Fernside told me you had stepped outside for some fresh air." He paused as he met her eyes, worried now because Lord Fernside had said something else…

"Oh, yes," she chuckled. "I saw him earlier."

He frowned. "He also said… he said that you seemed upset. Or nervous."

"D - did he?" She laughed awkwardly, her eyes flashing over his shoulder. "I am not."

"Because if something is wrong, Miss Dowding…" He reached up and rested a hand under her chin to make sure she was looking right at him. "… you know that you can tell me anything. Anything at all."

A shadow passed behind her eyes, a clear indication that something was indeed upsetting her. Her brow furrowed, her jaw tightened, and for a moment there, Frederick worried that perhaps what was wrong had to do with him… that she was already moving past this little affair of theirs.

That, as much as anything, made him realize that they needed to speak again soon. He had tried to brooch the topic days ago, but she had panicked and fled the room—or made him flee it. Knowing what he was about to ask her, she had made her thoughts on the matter clear without having to say anything.

It had stung at the time, for Frederick had been about to ask if she wanted to stay when his grandmother left. A tad hasty, perhaps, but he truly felt that it was the right call. Clearly, she did not agree. Only now… should he ask her again? Was the timing right? And would she say yes or panic again and maybe even put an end to his yearning?

"It was just Lord Fernside," she said quickly, another awkward chuckle. "He was…" She rolled her eyes. "He was trying to convince me to forgive you."

"What?" Frederick frowned. "Forgive me for what?"

"He still thinks that we are not talking after the other day," she laughed. "And he was adamant that I go out of my way to do something about it."

Frederick groaned. "The man is a busybody. As is my grandmother for that matter."

"How so?"

Another chance to broach the topic, presented to him perfectly. And while Frederick knew he should take it, when he looked at the smile in Miss Dowding's eyes, recognizing how happy she was in this moment with him, he decided that for now there was no need to say it.

The time would come when he would need to ask her again. Likely very soon as surely his grandmother would be leaving any week. But for now… best to simply enjoy the moment as it was while things were perfect.

"Never mind," he said with a smile, touching under her chin again. "I don't want to talk about that."

"Then what shall we talk about?"

"Who said we needed to talk…" He flashed his eyes at her, and she did the same back, sensing his meaning, leaning in, and kissing him fully.

And they continued to kiss. Ravenous. Hungry. Tongues lapping. Teeth biting. Mouths sucking. He moved his hands to her hips, pushing her back against the balcony, squeezing her because he loved the way that she moaned when he did.

It was dark out here… dark enough. Not thinking. Not caring. Frederick moved his hand down to her dress, lifting it up above her knees.

"Wa - wait." She moved her hand to stop him. "We should not."

He raised an eyebrow at her, his hand still gripping the hem of her dress. "Are you denying me, Miss Dowding? You know that is not a smart thing to do."

She glanced behind him, back toward the ball. "What if people see?"

"It is too dark for that," he assured her softly, leaning in and kissing her on the neck.

She moaned, the hold on his hand softened. "But… it is dangerous."

"I thought you liked that."

"If we are seen…"

Frederick smiled as an idea came to mind. For the past two days, they had played a game of sorts, vacillating between punishments and rewards—depending on what the mood called for. He had learned that Caroline liked being punished, that she relished his power over her, forcing her into positions where he had all the control, and she was left at his whim. This gave him an idea…

He let go of her dress, his hand moving to the dark blue cravat around his neck. "You are worried about being seen?"

"I am simply saying that it might not be the best idea…" She smirked. "At the moment. But I will make it up to you, I promise."

"But if you cannot see them, then it is the same thing, yes?" He pulled the cravat free.

She eyed it curiously. "I suppose so…"

He flashed his eyes at her. "Do not move." Then, he brought the cravat up to her eyes and moved to wrap it around her head.

"What are you doing?" she pulled back, pushing his hands down.

"What did I just say," he growled a warning at her, letting her see the hunger and command in his eyes. He stepped in close, holding the cravat up to her face again, and this time, she understood.

"I should know better than denying you," she said in a whisper, dropping her hands.

"That you should," he chuckled as he tied the cravat around her eyes, blindfolding her. "Now I am not even sure if you deserve what I have in mind."

"Please," she begged, eyes covered. "I want it so badly."

"How badly?" He kissed down her neck, biting into the skin so that she yelped.

In response, even blind as she was, Caroline took his hand in hers and moved it back down her dress. Then she lifted it up slightly, raised her leg, and guided his hand between her thighs.

"I am yours," she said between kisses, "to do with as you please."

"You better be," he growled as his fingers slipped inside of her.

"Urgh…" She wrenched her lips free and then moved to shove her face into his shoulder, but Frederick stopped her, a hand around her neck, holding her face up so that he could see the blindfold.

She gasped as she took a handful of hair, pulling on it as his fingers slipped in and out of her, rubbed and massaged, made her shake.

"Be careful not to scream…" he breathed in her ear.

"Do not… tell me… what to… oh God!" She shoved a hand in her own mouth as her body went rigged. Frederick pressed himself against her, making sure to cover her if anyone was to look outside.

Her body went stiff and then spasmed. Her legs shook and closed around his hand. How wet she was… he could feel it dripping down her thighs and coating his wrist. But she writhed and breathed and moaned before finally collapsing in his arms.

Once that was done, he gently pulled his hand free and wiped it on the back of his pants. Then he removed the cravat and put it in his pocket before kissing her softly on the lips and making sure to fix her hair. She laughed as he did so, he kissed her on the nose, and together, they laughed some more.

"Shall we go inside?" she asked him finally.

"I think we best. You know, before people begin to talk."

"I shall go in first…" She winked and started slowly away. "Just in case."

"Yes, best to be safe," he chuckled, watching her go, mesmerized by the way her hips swayed back and forth as she disappeared inside and through the crowd.

Frederick grinned from ear to ear, unable to believe his luck in finding such a woman. She was everything he could ever want. Fun. Free. Challenging. Wicked. And that she and Isabella got on so well was a bonus he thanked God for.

Now, all he had to tell was convince her that they should tell people and that she should stay. But that was for tomorrow…

Walking back inside, Frederick looked about for his grandmother, certain that Miss Dowding would be with her. Frustratingly, he soon made eye contact with a woman whom he had no desire to speak with, and the moment he did, she made a beeline for him.

"Your Grace!" she called and waved as she swept in.

"Lady Tattershell." Lucky his mood was transcendent, for it made it easier to smile gracefully as she came to him. He took her hand and gave it a kiss, and she crooned. "I am glad that I ran into you, for it is always a pleasure. At least most often," he then added bitterly.

"Wonderful to hear," she said with excitement, ignoring the added comment. "I was hoping to see you tonight; it has been too long, Your Grace."

Lady Tattershell was not a woman whom Frederick knew well but one he knew of. Although to be fair, everyone did. She was a renowned gossip, the type of woman who knew everything about everyone… and who loved to let everyone know that she did. To tell her a secret would be to see it spread through the ton within a week, likely exaggerated by the time it reached whoever was being spoken about.

For that reason, Frederick had little cause or wish to speak with her and every reason to be rude trying to get away.

"As lovely as it was seeing you," he began, "I am afraid that I must find my grandmother."

"Oh yes, of course," she said with a slippery smile. "Give her my best, will you?"

"I will."

"And Miss Dunn, too," she said. "Strange seeing the two of you together, however…" She tittered. "I hesitate to even ask."

Frederick paused mid-step and turned back. "Who?"

"Miss Dunn," she said again. "The woman I saw you and your grandmother arrive with."

Frederick frowned. "You mean Miss Dowding."

"No…" She furrowed her brow and tilted her head. "Blue dress. Brown hair. You arrived with her, Your Grace," she chuckled and slapped his arm playfully. "Unless you are simply picking women up off the street now. Miss Dunn, daughter of Lord Edgerton, of course. I assumed you knew him."

"Miss Dunn…" He looked through the crowd and caught sight of Miss Dowding, who smiled, winked, and then looked away. "That is… her name… Are you certain?"

"Very," Lady Tattershell said before her eye lit up. "Why? Did you not know? Oh!" She grabbed his arm, and the excitement was evident. "Then you must not know of?—"

"Oh, Miss Dunn." He pulled his arm free. "I am sorry, I misheard you."

"But you just said?—"

"Of course, I know her." He looked warningly at Lady Tattershell. "Unless you wish to suggest otherwise."

She smiled wickedly, knowing better than to push the matter with him. "Yes, Your Grace. Misheard. Of course. But do give her my best, won't you. Miss Dunn and I… we know one another a little. Not well, but she will know my name. I assure you of that."

"I shall…" he said carefully, a forced smile, an effort to not look as if his world was caving in.

Miss. Dunn? Lord Edgerton? Frederick pulled himself away from Lady Tattershell, mind spinning as he tried to reckon with what he had just been told and if there was any truth to it. The woman was a gossip, a liar, a rumor monger to say the least. But to make up something like that seemed beyond even her own reputation.

But if she wasn't lying, then what did that mean? Was Miss Dowding lying about who she was? Or was something else going on here? He wanted to dismiss it because that seemed the easiest thing to do. And yet… as he approached Miss Dowding and his grandmother, as he really looked at her, he could not divorce himself from the notion that there was more here than he knew.

Miss. Dunn? Miss Dowding? His world cracking around the edges in a way he was all too familiar with. Why could things never just be simple?