Free Desiring Lady Caro by Ella Quinn Page A

were betrothed.
    His cousin remained silent for several moments. “I’d advise you to leave here immediately. Lady Bentley is staying at this inn. A bigger gossip I’ve yet to meet and, to make it worse, she seems to be everywhere I am.” He grimaced. “I’ve been attempting to avoid her as she’s made it clear she has a wish to re-marry.”
    The idea of the woman bearing tales about Huntley and Caro caused him no little concern, but the vision of his discreet cousin being hunted by a tattling widow made Huntley give a short laugh. “You?”
    Everard’s already pink complexion deepened to a rich red. “It’s not a matter for humor.”
    The situation gave Huntley an idea. “If Caro and I leave immediately, perhaps your presence will distract her from us.”
    Under his hand, Caro’s shoulders dropped as her tension eased.
    Yet the next moment, pounding hooves and shouts from the carriage yard destroyed the relative silence of the room.
    “Oh no.” She grabbed his hand. “Di Venier is here. I recognize his voice.”
    The devil must have set out early and on horseback.
    Huntley brought her to her feet, holding her tightly against him. “Caro, you are safe. Di Venier cannot hurt you while I’m here. I won’t let him.”
    “Nor will I, my dear,” Everard said as he patted her back.
    “Follow my lead and try to calm yourself. I will not allow him to harm you. Look at me.” Caro trembled like a blancmange, but her color was still good. He hoped she wouldn’t swoon.
    She glanced up, and he captured her gaze. “I’m here to protect you. Tell me you understand.”
    Caro swallowed. “Yes, I understand. I’m not afraid.”
    He shifted slightly so his back was to the door and she was shielded from sight. Bending toward her, he tilted her chin up, forcing her to once more meet his gaze. Di Venier’s angry voice echoed down the corridor.
    Huntley whispered, “The marchese will be here in a moment. I’m going to place my lips very close to yours, but I won’t kiss you. Ready?”
    “Yes,” she said, so quietly he may not have actually heard it.
    The door swung open, crashing against the wall before bouncing back. Di Venier’s voice was full of rage. “Where is Lady Caroline?”
    Huntley turned. Before he could open his mouth to reply, his cousin drew himself up and, with all the authority of a bishop of the English church, said, “I suppose you are referring to the Countess of Huntley.”
    Caro’s knees buckled. Huntley grabbed her waist. Everard sidled close to them and pressed a ring against Huntley’s hand.
    Huntley took Caro’s left hand, sliding the ring on her finger. “I’m sorry.”
    “ Contessa? ” di Venier roared. “What do you mean? When?”
    Everard’s usually jovial countenance maintained the haughty dignity of his ecclesiastic rank. “I completed the ceremony not long before you came so rudely through the door.” He flicked a hand in dismissal. “Now, sir, you may leave us.”
    Di Venier’s face blackened. “ You? Who are you to tell me what to do?”
    Everard was giving the Marchese di Venier his full title and honors when a well-bred English female voice intruded and said sweetly, “Oh, there you are, Bishop. I’ve been looking for you.”
    Everard smiled and bowed. “Lady Bentley, how are you today?”
    “Quite well, thank you.” She craned her short neck for a better look into the room. “If you don’t mind my asking, what is going on? Your voices can be heard all over the building.”
    Di Venier turned and stared at Lady Bentley. “This man is truly a bishop?”
    Her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh my, yes. Of course he is. Why in the world would I address him as such, if he were not?” She squinted and once more gave the room her attention. “Who has got married?”
    The marchese swung back around and glared at Caro. “You could have lived the life of a princess. I would have worshiped you. Enjoy your Englishman . . . while you can.” With lowered brows, he