An Improper Wife by Tarah Scott and KyAnn Waters Read Free Book Online

heart crumbled altogether. “Just think of me,” she ended in a whisper.
    “How am I to forget?”
    His simple reply brought the magnitude of what she’d done crashing down on her. Not her loss of innocence—that she understood and could not regret. “I must go.”
    He banged on the ceiling of the carriage and the driver slowed.
    “Please,” her lover whispered.
    She gave a single shake of her head he couldn’t possibly see and he seized her hand and brought it to his lips. The carriage bounced to a stop. Her heart pounded and a lump formed in her throat. She hadn’t thought it would be so difficult to say goodbye to a stranger. His words came back, ‘After tonight, we are no longer strangers’.
    “You have been”—he paused, and she held her breath as he said—“unexpected.”
    Tears stung her eyes. She found his face in the dark and put a finger to his lips. “Our destinies are written.”
    “Heaven can rewrite destiny.” He kissed her palm. “He does not deserve you.”
    Her heart broke.
    “And if your husband discovers the truth?”
    She snapped to attention. The Viscount of Blackhall would not be pleased—nor would his father. She would see to it they never knew.
    Her lover brushed a thumb across her cheek and she realised he felt the tear that had escaped. He pulled her close and buried his face in her neck.
    “Do not judge yourself harshly,” he whispered. ”I do not regret our union. I pray you can say the same. Just remember, if your husband discovers the truth, if he rejects you—”
    “Please. Tonight you have claimed a piece of my heart.” She slid her lips over his. “What is left I will find a way to give to my husband.”
    He released her, then grasped the door handle. The click of the latch opening echoed in the hollow silence.
    He paused. “Tell me your name. I swear, I only wish to be certain you are well.”
    Tears dampened her cheeks. “I cannot.”
    “If your husband does not care for you, find me.”
    He swung the door open and light spilled into the compartment. He stepped from the carriage. His massive frame filled the door as he faced her.
    Familiar eyes, the colour of copper, laced with amber strands darkened to a rich brown stared back at her.
    Caroline barely stifled a gasp. Heat rushed into her face. “Blackhall,” she whispered.
    “Aye. Come to me when you can,” he said, and shut the door.
    Caroline stared at the closed door, numb with disbelief. Lord Blackhall wasn’t supposed to—had refused to—come to England until their wedding day.
    The carriage rolled forward. She yanked aside the curtain and watched her betrothed step back from the street, then turn. Her gaze remained glued to his receding back. She had feared no lasting repercussions from attending the masque. But if Lord Blackhall should discover her duplicity… The man with a penchant for dominance and discipline would not be forgiving.
    The carriage rounded the corner and he disappeared from view. Caroline dropped the curtain and slumped against the cushion.
    “Dear Lord, what have I done?”

Chapter Six
     
     
     
    Caroline carefully closed the wrought iron gate leading to her uncle’s rented townhouse, wincing at the distinct grate of metal when it clicked shut. She leant her head against one of the bars, willing her stomach to unknot long enough for her legs to remain steady until she reached her room. She was a complete fool. The gown she’d worn when she left home probably still lay unmolested on the seat of her rented hackney parked outside Lord Forbes’ estate.
    Mabel, no doubt, had already risen, and had possibly even woken one or two of the maids. If they caught her wearing the Aphrodite costume, by dawn, all of Newcastle would know she had attended the masque. The servants might be in the kitchen, a blessing if Uncle was still out and the front door unlocked in anticipation of his return—the end for her if he had returned and bolted it behind him.
    Had she come straight home