Less Than a Gentleman

  But if she let him in . . . A night in the arms of Thomas Haversham? She shivered, recalling how gently he had touched her. And the way he had taken her nipple into his mouth . . . She gulped. Perhaps he was less than a gentleman. But she had liked it. She had never felt so excited, so alive. She was tempted to give herself to him, but could she do it without losing her heart?

  A light suddenly pierced the dark stairwell. Her breath caught. What should she do? Play it safe or— Gooseflesh prickled her arms. She turned and spotted him at the foot of the stairs. He set the lantern down, then stood there, looking up at her.

  Her heart swelled with longing. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. You mustn’t fall prey to desire. He’s a spy. It will kill you to love him and then lose him.

  She opened her eyes. He was ascending the stairs, noiselessly in his stocking feet. Light from the lantern below outlined him in silhouette, but his face remained in shadow. So little she knew about him. And yet, so greatly she yearned for him.

  She turned her back to him, but she could feel him coming. Good Lord. She rested her forehead on the door when she realized the truth. She wouldn’t refuse him.

  She wanted him.

  “Caroline,” he whispered behind her.

  The sound seemed to penetrate the skin on her back and sizzle down her spine. It stopped at the apex of her thighs and hummed, waiting for more.

  “Why did you run away? I would never hurt you.”

  She pressed her palms against the door. She’d never experienced this before, an overwhelming desire to be with a man. It was more powerful than she had ever imagined.

  His breath tickled her neck. “I want to make love to you.”

  She dug her fingers into the wall. Just the sound of his voice made her ache for him. She squeezed her thighs together. “Thomas.”

  “Is that a yes?” He brushed her hair over one shoulder and kissed the nape of her neck.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. She inhaled sharply at the bulge pressed against the small of her back. When he nuzzled her neck, she tilted her head and leaned against him.

  He unfastened more buttons until her gown fell open to her waist. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as his hands covered her breasts.

  She shuddered. He kneaded her gently, then teased her nipples with his thumbs. She bit her lip to keep from moaning, but a small whimper still escaped.

  “Look how you respond to me.” He tugged gently on the hardened tips.

  With a moan, she pressed against his swollen manhood. She wanted him something fierce.

  He hissed in a breath. “Good God, woman.” He slid a hand down the opening of her nightgown, past her waist and over her belly.

  She gasped. His hand was on her curls. “Thomas?”

  “It’s all right.” With one hand he gently massaged her curls while his other hand teased her nipples.

  Her body trembled, her knees threatening to give out. “I don’t think I can stand . . . ah!” She fell forward and caught herself, her palms against the wall. Good Lord, his hand was between her legs. His fingers. Her knees buckled.

  He grabbed her around the waist and turned her to face him. “Hold on to me.”

  When she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, he lifted her and pressed her back against the wall.

  “Put your legs around me.” He adjusted his hold with his hands on her rump.

  She winced. She was so exposed in this position. But then she could hardly make love without giving herself completely, her body and her heart.

  Tears burned her eyes. She had never thought she would allow herself to become so vulnerable. “Thomas.” She touched his face.

  He turned his head to kiss her palm. “Sweetheart.” He kissed her lips. “There are soldiers nearby. Try not to scream.”

  Scream? Why would she? She gasped when his hand slipped between her legs.

  “You’re so wonderfully wet.”

  Good Lord. How embarrassing. “I’m sorry.”

  “ ’Tis good.” He nuzzled her neck. “It means you want me.”

  She did. She whimpered as he gently explored her. Now that the initial shock had passed, she found herself wanting more. Greedily needing more. Her heels dug into his back as she pressed herself against him.

  “I can no longer wait.” He adjusted his hold on her.

  The door suddenly swiveled open, and they fell through, crashing onto the floor.

  “Oh!” She lay stunned.

  “Damn.” He quickly moved off her. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”

  “I—I think I’m all right.” Wincing, she sat up.

  He jumped to his feet and helped her stand. “I must have moved the latch somehow. I’m sorry.”

  “I used too much grease on it.” She shook out her gown and looked about nervously. Luckily, the redcoats were remaining in their rooms.

  “We’ll go to your room. I’ll fetch the lantern.” He stepped back through the door and headed down the stairs.

  Her room? With trembling hands, she buttoned her nightgown. Was she really going to have an affair with him?

  “Who’s there?” Charlotte’s voice, high-pitched and frightened, came from the direction of the nursery.

  Caroline spotted the white blur of her niece’s nightgown. “Don’t worry, Charlotte. ’Tis only me.”

  “Aunt Caroline? Did you see the ghost?”

  “No, sweeting. There’s no ghost.”

  A larger shape in white appeared at the nursery door. “I told you there’s no such thing as a ghost,” Edward said.

  “Then why were you too frightened to come to the door?” Charlotte asked.

  “I wasn’t frightened,” Edward protested.

  Caroline spotted Thomas through the cracked door. He had closed the shutters on the lantern and was waiting in the dark on the landing.

  “Will you read my book to me?” Charlotte asked. “Mama’s asleep, and I’m afraid the ghost will come.”

  “I’ll light a candle for you,” Edward offered, and disappeared inside the room.

  “Go inside. I’ll be along soon,” Caroline said. When her niece headed back to her bed, she leaned close to the opening where Thomas waited. “I’d better go. Edward cannot be trusted with candles.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow night?” Thomas whispered back.

  “Yes.” She pressed the door closed ’til she heard the click. Tomorrow night, they would join forces to spy on the British.

  As she padded toward the nursery she realized her mistake. Thomas would interpret her agreement differently.

  He intended to spend tomorrow night in her bed.

  “I just adore a garden in the moonlight.” Miss Ludlow lowered herself gracefully onto the stone bench. “Don’t you, Captain?”

  “Yes.” Ezra Hickman eyed the clear night sky and wondered if the nearby partisans were up to mischief. “Perhaps you can help me, Miss Ludlow.”

  “Call me Agatha, please.”

  He smiled at her. “And you may call me Ezra.”

  “How may I be of assistance, Ezra?” She allowed her shawl to slip off her shoulders.

  He propped a foot on the bench and leaned forward, his elbow on his knee. The position afforded him an ideal view of her low neckline. “Did you know the owner of this plantation is a prisoner in Charles Town?”

  “Mr. Thomas? Oh, my.” Agatha pressed a hand against her bosom. “Jane told me he was away on business.”

  “Aye, the business of treason. You didn’t know the Thomas family was in league with the rebels?”

  “No! Goodness, I would have never come here if I’d known. I certainly wouldn’t have pursued Jane’s son.”

  “Do you harbor any feelings for him?”

  “No, of
course not. ’Twas Loblolly I found attractive.” She touched Ezra’s ankle and smoothed her hand up his stocking. “I assure you, I am loyal to the king.”

  He figured she knew he could have a person arrested, even executed, if he so desired. Her décolletage and roaming fingers excited him, but the sense of power that surged through him was an even stronger aphrodisiac. “You must tell me all you know of the Thomas family.”

  “As you wish.” She continued to caress his leg. “They own a lovely town house in Charles Town. And Loblolly is a rich plantation. It was my desire to be mistress here that caused me to consider Matthias. I don’t even care—”

  “Matthias?” Ezra leaned forward. “The son is Matthias Murray Thomas?” No wonder Jane was willing to let her husband rot in prison. She was protecting her son.

  Agatha nodded. “I don’t actually like—”

  “Where is he?”

  She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. I believe he was studying in Williamsburg.”

  So Jane had neglected to tell Agatha the whereabouts of her son. Ezra smiled to himself. All he had to do was lure Matthias back home. Then he could capture the traitor and collect the reward. “How many sons does Jane have?”

  “Only Matthias. He’s the heir to the plantation.”

  “I see.” Ezra glanced back at the Great House. Once Matthias Murray Thomas was convicted of treason, his land could be confiscated, perhaps even awarded to the brave soldier who had brought the traitor to justice.

  If he worked it right, he could have the money and Loblolly. “It is an excellent plantation.”

  Agatha sighed. “It was all I ever wanted. But now I’ll have to return home. I want nothing to do with rebels.”

  He lifted her hand to his lips. “If you stay and help me, you might still be mistress of Loblolly.”

  She leaned forward ’til her breasts pressed against his leg. “I’ll do anything you ask, Ezra.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The next morning, Caroline wound up the mechanical jack to keep the suckling pig rotating over the kitchen fire. “What a handy device, Jacob. Did you and your father build it?”

  “Yes,” he answered as he munched on a piece of bacon.

  Seated across from Jacob at the kitchen table, Edward buttered a biscuit. “May we see the mill today?”

  “Edward, you know we cannot.” Virginia sipped some coffee. “We told Dottie we would help her in the kitchen today. Finish your breakfast so we can get to work.”

  Edward made a face to protest his fate. Charlotte pinched off a tiny piece of biscuit and slowly placed it in her mouth. Edward followed her example.

  Caroline exchanged an amused look with her sister. The children obviously planned to make breakfast last as long as possible.

  She moved to the pump by the stone sink to wash the vegetables she’d picked at sunrise. After a sleepless night, she had decided the best remedy was hard work. If she was exhausted enough, she would sleep.

  She rinsed the dirt off a turnip, chiding herself for her flawed logic. She’d worked hard the day before, mopping the secret corridor, but sleep had still eluded her.

  For the first few hours, she’d tossed in bed remembering all the deliciously wanton things Thomas had done with her. But then she’d recalled her purpose for cleaning the passageway. Her father, brother, and brother-in-law were risking their lives in the war. And Jane’s son was wanted for treason. How could she think about something as fleeting as physical pleasure when lives were at stake?

  Jane’s son needed to be warned about the handbill. Caroline had had the perfect opportunity to tell Thomas, but she had failed. She’d let her desire override her duty.

  And she’d failed to even consider the consequences of her desire. The possibility of pregnancy was all too real. She glanced back at Charlotte and Edward still eating their biscuits at a snail’s pace.

  Unexpected tears came to her eyes, and she turned back to the sink. All right, so she wanted a child of her own. And a husband who loved her. And a home. After Roger’s death, she had tried to bury that dream. She wasn’t even sure she deserved to be happy after what she’d done.

  Now that Thomas Haversham was in her life, he made her long for the impossible. She recalled his words that morning in the pergola when he’d tried to sever their relationship. The timing was wrong, he’d said. She blinked back tears. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She couldn’t fall in love and have children now.

  “Dottie!” Betsy barged into the kitchen with a tray of dirty breakfast dishes. “Mrs. Thomas needs you.”

  “What’s wrong?” Dottie asked.

  Betsy dumped the tray on the table with a noisy clatter. “It was terrible. He’s an evil man, he is.”

  “Calm down, Betsy,” Dottie ordered. “I have to know what’s wrong, so I can take Miss Jane the right medicine.”

  “She’s frightened out of her wits!” Betsy shouted, then took a deep breath. “They were eating breakfast when Captain Hickman asked Mrs. Thomas to take a walk with him. He said he wanted to pick the perfect tree. And when she asked him for what purpose—” She shook her head. “I hate him. God help me, I hate them all.”

  Jacob rose to his feet. “What did the captain say?”

  Betsy wiped away a tear. “He said she would watch her traitorous son, Matthias, hang.”

  Jacob cursed softly.

  Charlotte whimpered, and Virginia pulled her close.

  Caroline balled her fists. So Hickman had discovered that Matthias was Jane’s son. “I suppose Miss Ludlow told him who Matthias was.”

  Betsy nodded. “I went to her room this morning to help her dress, but her bed wasn’t slept in. She must have spent the night with—”

  “We understand.” Virginia covered her daughter’s ears.

  Dottie selected several small bottles from a shelf. “I’ll fix something for Miss Jane.”

  “I should be going.” Jacob strode toward the door, then hesitated. “Betsy, could I have more breakfast to take with me?”

  “Oh, that’s right. You have— Just a moment.” Betsy quickly packed some food.

  Caroline wondered if someone was staying with Jacob. It would be a good place for Thomas to hide. After Jacob left, she removed her apron and excused herself.

  “Jacob?” She caught up with him just past the kitchen garden.

  He stopped. “Yes?”

  She lowered her voice. “Is Haversham staying with you?”

  Jacob blinked. “I—I cannot say.”

  “There’s no need to deny it,” she whispered. “I know he’s here. I met him in the secret passageway last night.”

  Jacob’s eyes widened. “What were you doing there?”

  She looked around. No one in sight. “I was spying. And I heard some information about Jane’s son. I need to tell Haversham.”

  Jacob’s eyebrows lifted. “This should be interesting.”

  “Is he there with you?”

  “Yes, but he told me no one from the Great House was supposed to know about him.”

  “I know about him.”

  Jacob scoffed. “So you say.”

  The guard, Pugsley, came into view as he was making his rounds. Caroline walked silently beside Jacob until they had passed the guard. When they reached the path by the river, she felt safe to talk again.

  “Do you know Haversham very well?”

  “Not really,” Jacob answered. “I’m a slave, so I never spent much time with the white folk. Mrs. Thomas was never comfortable around me.”

  “Why not?”

  “No one told you?” Jacob’s face reddened. “Her husband, Mr. Thomas, is my father.”

  “Oh.” Caroline tried not to look shocked. This explained a great deal—why Jacob was educated and lived in a nice house. “Then you and Matthias are half brothers.”

>   Jacob snorted. “As if he would ever admit to it.”

  Caroline sighed. Poor Jacob, caught between two worlds. “At least you have Haversham for a friend.”

  Jacob’s eyes twinkled with humor. “I hear he’s a terrible butler.”

  “Aye, he is.” Caroline nodded. “But at least he’s not wanted for treason. I only hope Matthias will have the sense to leave the Carolinas.”

  “I doubt it. Everyone knows he’s as stubborn as a jackass. You can remind Haversham of that when you see him.”

  “Well, if you think it will help.” Caroline lifted her skirt to ascend the steps to Jacob’s house.

  She stepped into the sunny parlor and stopped short. In the kitchen area, Thomas was leaning over a bowl, bare from the waist up, his dark brown hair loose and pushed behind his ears. He splashed water on his face, then cupped more water in his hands.

  Straightening, he deposited the water on top of his head. It streamed down his hair to his shoulders, then divided into rivulets. He raised his arms to stretch, and the drops of water meandered in a sinuous path around the muscles that bunched and flexed.

  “Pardon me.” Jacob squeezed past her. “You’re blocking the door.”

  “Jacob?” Thomas grabbed a towel and turned.

  Caroline barely heard Jacob’s response. Water had drizzled down Thomas’s neck to his chest, where a mat of dark curls had trapped the moisture. The drops of water sparkled in his chest hair, and down below, the hair narrowed into a line that disappeared into his breeches.

  “Good morning, Caroline.” He wiped his face with the towel, never taking his eyes off her.

  The movement brought her attention back to his face, and she wondered how his dark whiskers would feel against her fingertips. He rubbed the towel on his chest in a slow, circular motion. She sucked in a deep breath. The top buttons of his breeches were undone. I swell like this every time I’m near you.

  “You shouldn’t be here.” He dropped the towel on the table, then slowly fastened the buttons of his breeches.

  Her cheeks grew warm. “We brought you breakfast.”

  “Lord Almighty,” Jacob muttered. “You two can gawk at each other all day, but I have work to do.” He shoved the basket of food into Caroline’s hands. “I’ll fetch him a shirt.”