Susan Johnson: Again and Again

She cast him a suspicious glance. “And that’s why we’re the only ones with a private dining room?”

The innocence of his smile couldn’t have been improved on by cherubs on high. “Apparently she liked him a lot.”

“I’m not in the mood for a seduction,” she warned.

He nodded as he sat opposite her. “Agreed. I just preferred conversing with you apart from that rowdy crowd outside.” Deftly uncorking a wine bottle, he poured a small measure into her glass. “The landlady actually had some Chateau de la Brede claret. Remember when we drank it that day on the Thames? Let me know if it’s improved in five years.”

She wasn’t able to immediately reply, memories of their sensuous picnic near Richmond evoking an intense spiking pleasure. Lifting the glass, she examined the fine golden liquid, needing a moment to compose her emotions before taking a sip. Her voice when she replied was deliberately bland. “It’s perfect as ever.”

“I’ll take that as a good omen.” Grinning, he filled his glass and lifted it to her in salute. “To our future friendship.”

“What are you doing here?” she abruptly asked, not capable of so cavalierly contemplating a renewal of their relationship. She was no longer naive and gullible.

“I’m on my way north to hunt with some friends. The storm drove me off the road-a happy coincidence I might add.” His gaze above the rim of his glass was genial. “Are you hungry?”

“Very much.” She glanced at the sideboard. “The stage stops don’t offer such sumptuous fare.”

“Then let’s eat. I’ve been riding since morning.”

She didn’t need a second invitation with the savory aromas wafting their way to the table, and together they filled their plates from the numerous dishes. Over a dinner of pigeon pie, veal cutlets, steamed potatoes, peas with butter sauce, salad, plum tarts, along with a goodly portion of excellent wine, they conversed in an easy way, concentrating on impersonal subjects-the weather, the state of the roads, the king’s splendid and expensive coronation, the prime minister’s gaffe over the Sumner affair.

And much later when they’d both finished their second serving of plum tart along with an excellent Tokay, Simon pushed his plate aside, leaned back and fixed his dark gaze on Caroline. “I’m glad you’re divorced.”

More relaxed after several glasses of wine, pleasantly full and strangely content, her mouth quirked in a small smile. “So am I.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Lord knows; it was a long time ago.”

“I tore the city apart looking for you.”

“Because you don’t like to lose.”

He grimaced. “Maybe… or maybe I needed you.”

“You never need anyone for long, Simon. I was just more practical than you.” Her brows rose in derision. “Surely you’re not going to tell me you’ve pined for me in my absence.”

He didn’t answer for a moment and she said, “There. You see? Consider what would have happened if we had married five years ago. You would have been unfaithful within a fortnight; we would have quarreled incessantly and both of us would have been abjectly miserable.”

“Maybe.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Fortunately we didn’t marry on such wavering ambiguity.”

“And yet your marriage failed.”

“Louvois found a rich woman.”

The umbrage vanished from his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“It turned out for the best. She was French like Louvois and I discovered in my travels on the Continent that I was more English than I thought. I was pleased to return home.”

“Did he leave you funds?” Aware of Caroline’s family background, Simon’s concern was genuine.

“I’m managing very well, thank you.”

“Should you ever be in need…”

“I’m not-really.”

“You’re sure?” He took in her unfashionable gown, her lack of jewelry, and recalled her red cape that had been out of style these many years.

“I’m sure. You have no need to care for me.”

“But I may wish to.”

“Sorry, Simon. You relinquished that opportunity years ago.”

“I was mistaken,” he said softly.

She made a small moue and waved her hand in the direction of the wine. “Pour us both another glass and desist from talking nonsense. I’m not some young ingénue you can charm. I know you too well. And I’m not the same woman you were acquainted with five years ago. Let’s simply enjoy a convivial evening and forgo any undue sentiment. I find of late, I prefer less emotion in my life.”

His gaze held hers for a penetrating moment and then he grinned. “So shall we just get drunk?”

“I’m not sure a lady is allowed to actually reach that vulgar state,” she murmured archly, “but I’d be in favor of enjoying another glass or two and seeing if I can still beat you at piquet.”

“You never beat me.”

They’d played since childhood and as her father’s daughter, she had a rare talent for cards. “Do recall who taught whom, my dear Simon.”

Although he was older by three years, she’d been a child prodigy. “I believe I may have overtaken you, darling Caro. I’ve had considerable practice these past years.”

“Do you think I haven’t?”

His gaze narrowed. “Have you fleeced all the unsuspecting men on the Continent?”

“On occasion.” A sudden bleakness touched her eyes, quickly replaced by a brilliant smile. “One must survive after all.”

“I warn you, darling.” Amusement colored his voice. “I’m far from unsuspecting.”

“Good. I prefer a challenge.”

“Just so,” he said softly.

“Not that kind of challenge, Simon. Acquit me of your habits.”

He laughed. “So you’ve given up sex?”

“For the moment”

“Perhaps I could change your mind.”

She shook her head. “Not a chance, darling,” your reputation precedes you. Once burnt, et cetera, et cetera…“ she said brightly. ”Now shall we say a guinea a point?“

“A guinea it is. And should you lose?”

“I shan’t lose.” She couldn’t. She only had five guineas to her name.

And she didn’t.

Despite the fact that they played far into the night, her talent was fascinating to observe even for a man who prided himself on his expertise at the tables. He never lost by much, but she managed to always have the edge and he gave her high marks for improvement since he’d last seen her.

“What happened to your money,” he said, several hours later as she gathered the last of his guineas into the pile before her.

She didn’t pretend not to understand. “He took it”

“I should call him out.”

“He’s not worth your time. Are we done playing?”

“You cleaned me out tonight, Caro, darling. If you’ll take a chit, we can continue.”

“I’m not sure you truly lost or let me win.”

“I’m not that generous. You won. And need I say, I’m impressed.”

“Thank you. Now if only Papa could have drunk less, his talent for cards wouldn’t have gone to ruin along with his estates.” Sighing, she pushed away from the table. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m suddenly very tired. Hopefully there’s still a room available for me.”

“First door at the top of the stairs.”

A flicker of suspicion illuminated her gaze and then she said, “Thank you again,” in a tone of politesse that could have been used to address a stranger.

“I won’t bother you.”

“I know you won’t. I intend to lock my door.” She stood, gathered her winnings and slipped them into her reticule. 1 enjoyed the evening, Simon. Very much.“ Her voice this time was warm. ”I’d forgotten…“ Her words trailed off and she smiled like she had so many times in the past