His Compromised Countess

She groped her way around the house, continuing to call out for the child as she went. But the howling wind seemed to catch her voice and steal it away. Would Wyn be able to hear her? And if he did, would he be willing to come to her after the scene he’d witnessed between her and his father? Caroline struggled to subdue her alarm, but it seemed to feed on the power of the storm and grow stronger.

As she rounded the corner to the back of the house, she saw Bennett moving towards her from the opposite direction.

‘Get back inside!’ he bellowed. ‘I’ll look for Wyn!’

‘No!’ Caroline pushed a hank of sodden hair off her face. She was not going to be Bennett’s wife for much longer, so what was the use of obeying his wishes now? ‘I have to look for him! Don’t you understand? It’s my fault he’s out here! If any harm comes to him…’

Fearing Bennett might try to stop her, she turned and ran blindly. To her relief, he did not follow. He must realise it was no use wasting time they desperately needed to search for their son.

‘Where are you, Wyn?’ she cried, though the question was more to herself than to him.

Calling his name again and again, she staggered forwards. Her dress and shoes were so thoroughly soaked they weighed her down almost as much as her guilt. She was the one who had taken Wyn from his safe, familiar nursery and brought him to this stormy island with its turmoil and danger.

If any harm befell her son, it would be a judgement upon her for putting her needs ahead of his well-being. Perhaps that was what Bennett had meant when he’d accused her of not knowing what love was. All these years, she had thought of love in terms of endearments and gestures of affection, when in truth it might be something simpler and far more substantial.

Would she ever get the opportunity to learn to love her son that way?

‘If any harm comes to him…’ As Caroline ran off into the rain, her last unfinished sentence echoed ominously in Bennett’s mind.

It conjured up terrifying visions of the dangers their son might encounter if he strayed any distance from the house. The sea-swept cliffs. The ancient tin pits that pocked the hills above Dolphin Town. The restless, hungry ocean that gnawed at the edges of the island. By force of will, Bennett wrenched himself back from the perilous downward spiral of such thoughts.

Caroline’s barely contained panic was contagious. One glance at her and his heart had raced even faster, his stomach lurched and he had trouble catching his breath. He knew he could not allow such potent emotions to overcome him. His son’s life might depend upon him keeping a cool head.

Since Caroline had struck out towards the interior of the island, he would search along the coast, where the greatest danger lay.

‘Wyn!’ he bellowed as his gaze ranged desperately. ‘Where are you? Come to me, son!’

Yet while he walked and called out and scanned the area, he could not banish his last glimpse of Caroline from his mind. Her porcelain skin had the bluish pallor of whey. Her eyes had been opened too wide and moved restlessly. Not even the legendary Mrs Siddons could have put on such a convincing performance of distress. Much as Bennett longed to doubt her, he could not. She’d looked so vulnerable, so worried, so guilt-ridden, it stirred a sense of protectiveness he had not felt towards her in a very long time. He struggled to subdue it, but the two of them were bound tightly together by something far more important than their many differences.

He could no longer deny that Caroline loved their son. She might not have been the most attentive mother, but perhaps he had not been the most affectionate father. Faced with the dark dread of losing his child for ever, Bennett began to understand the desperation that had driven her to keep Wyn with her at all costs.

As more and more time passed with no sign of his son, Bennett found it harder to contain his mounting anxiety. Wyn was the only person in a very long time he’d permitted himself to love. There were others he might respect or admire, but none for whom he felt this consuming mixture of pride, protectiveness, fondness.

If Caroline was right, he had not done nearly enough to show the child how he felt. It grieved Bennett that Wyn might regard him in the way he had his own cold, distant father. Worse yet, what if he never got the chance to let his son know how much he cared?

That dread brought back wrenching memories of his mother’s abrupt disappearance and the grim silence that had met his anxious inquiries. After years spent protecting his heart from ever suffering that kind of ordeal again, he’d been powerless to keep from loving his son.

Now he feared he might experience that same torment again. Only this time it would be real. And it would never end.

‘Bennett!’ Caroline’s voice, faint and hoarse, called him back from the edge of the bottomless abyss into which he’d been staring.

His gaze flew towards the sound of it and he saw her standing near the house clutching Wyn.

In a daze of joy and relief more profound than any he’d ever experienced, Bennett ran towards them and caught up with Caroline as she reached the kitchen door.

She looked like a half-drowned angel with her golden hair hanging drenched around her shoulders and her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Yet, never in all the years he’d known her had she looked so beautiful. Not swathed in the finest silk and decked with sapphires, nor gloriously naked in the throes of newlywed desire. For now she held their son in her arms, safe from dangers Bennett could not bear to contemplate.

He longed to wrap his arms around them both and clutch them tight to his heart. But if he did, he feared he might lose control of his tightly bound emotions. Instead he channelled his overwhelming relief and concern into practical action.

Throwing open the door, he ushered Caroline into the kitchen. The disagreeable smells he’d noticed upon first entering the house overwhelmed him, but he had more important things to worry about.

‘We need to get you both into dry clothes. Are there any here?’ He addressed the question to Parker, who swooped toward her mistress the moment they entered.

In answer to his abrupt question, Caroline’s maid bobbed a nod. ‘That fellow with the cart fetched them from the inn when he brought Albert and the young master.’

‘Good. Then attend your mistress while I see to my son.’ Turning to Caroline, Bennett opened his arms. ‘I can take Wyn now.’

But the child tightened his hold around Caroline’s neck and hid his face against her shoulder. ‘Papa will be angry with me for running away, like he was with you, Mama!’

Wyn began to shiver. Was it from the cold, Bennett wondered with a pang, or was the child trembling with fear?

‘No, son.’ He tried to pitch his voice in a way that would reassure the child, but he was not certain he’d succeeded. ‘I’m not angry. I was worried about you, that’s all.’

‘We both were very worried, dearest.’ Caroline nuzzled the crown of Wyn’s head with her cheek. ‘But it’s all right, now. Go to your papa. He’ll take good care of you.’

Did she mean that? After the insults and accusations they had hurled at one another such a short time ago, Bennett had his doubts. Yet when he scrutinised her tone for any barb of derision, he detected none.

‘Your mama is right, Wyn. You need not be afraid of me.’

Their efforts to transfer the child from Caroline’s arms to his brought them into unsettlingly close contact. The back of his hand rubbed over the bosom of her sodden dress. The soft flesh beneath yielded to his touch. His leg brushed against hers. Her lips issued a silent but insistent call to his. It took little to rouse his gnawing hunger.

Was that what Caroline wanted—to make him captive to his desires and slave to her whims? The mistrust Bennett had put aside came roaring back. Now that his wife had got a bitter foretaste of the life that awaited her outside the gilded bubble of their marriage, he would not put it past her to employ any means necessary to regain her position of privilege.

That included seducing the husband she despised.

Chapter Four

How long would it be until Bennett got over his relief at finding Wyn and recalled that their son would never have been in danger if not for her?

That thought plagued Caroline as her husband took charge to make her and Wyn as comfortable as possible after their ordeal. His reaction to the child’s sudden flight into the storm had proven that he cared more for Wyn than she’d ever suspected—far more than he had been able to show.

She knew that should make her happy for Wyn’s sake. She wanted her son to have a father who loved him, even if he had trouble expressing it. But the more Bennett cared about their son, the less likely he would be to consider letting the child stay with her on Tresco. Especially now that he knew how dangerous it could be.

‘We’ll get you dried out yet.’ Bennett tucked a blanket around her and Wyn as they huddled together on the sofa, which he had pulled up closer to the parlour hearth. ‘It looks as though we may be obliged to spend the night here since the storm shows no sign of easing up.’

Vexed as she was with Bennett for the hurt he’d caused her in the past and the worse harm he intended to inflict, Caroline appreciated his calm resourcefulness in a crisis.

‘What about you?’ She wrapped her arms around their son and pulled him closer. The child had not stopped shivering in spite of dry clothes, a blanket and the warmth of the fire. ‘You look half-drowned.’

And yet it did not make him a whit less attractive… unfortunately. His close-cropped dark hair was only a little damp now and he had removed his sodden coat and waistcoat. But the driving rain had penetrated all the way to his shirt, which clung to his broad shoulders and well-proportioned chest in a way that made Caroline feel altogether too warm. It also made her self-conscious of what a fright she must look with her hair hanging lank and damp.

‘Half-drowned?’ Bennett glanced down at his clothes. ‘More than half, I should think. Perhaps I can borrow some dry clothes from Albert, for mine are still on the ship.’

Parker bustled in then with cups of hot tea for them all.

When Caroline took a sip of hers, her stomach squealed, as if demanding something more substantial.

She cringed with embarrassment until Wyn gave a little chuckle—a sound so sweet it made her laugh along with him. ‘Are you hungry, Mama?’