“It is my pleasure, my lord.”
When she met his gaze, his face burned.
Then she moved back from him, quietly settling at Miss Featherton’s side as Stanwyck stepped forward and announced that dinner was being served.
Caroline’s stomach plummeted when she recognized the black-haired gentleman as the tall man from the sitting room. He was bigger than she had first noticed, his shoulders seemed to take up almost twice the room of other men’s. She saw that he noticed her—his own eyes widened—and her gaze flew down to the floor.
She focused on the hem of Nelly’s skirt as they moved toward him. It was him—the Silent Earl. Caroline felt light-headed and wondered if, for the first time in her life, she may swoon. Unfortunately, she had never been that delicate.
Despite her best efforts, Caroline looked to Nelly and detected a sweep of pink on Nelly’s cheeks. There was also a red flush to the girl’s lips, deeper than her natural color. But she could not now pull her back and wipe her face. Even she had to admit Mathilde had used a restrained hand and the effect was one of lovely, flushed youth. She hoped no one else would notice it was artificial.
Three gentlemen and two other ladies were seated around the large sitting room, which had cream-colored brocade ceilings and had been decorated with an abundance of mint.
A pretty woman in a sprigged floral dress stepped forward and grasped Nelly by her hands. Caroline guessed she was Howsham’s hostess, Lady Stanwyck.
“Ah, you have arrived!” She turned to the group. “Our party is nearly complete,” she said, smiling at them. “Allow me to introduce Miss Cornelia Featherton.”
All eyes went to Nelly, who curtsied gracefully and bowed her head just as Caroline had taught her to do. She had to admit she made an ideal picture of feminine beauty.
The men bowed in return.
“Miss Featherton,” Stanwyck gestured to the gentlemen. “This group may look like country rabble, but pay no attention to their rough appearances, they are actually gentlemen and my oldest friends.”
He introduced each of the men. Mr. Henry Graham, Stanwyck’s younger brother, thin Master John Stanwyck, and the tall man in a black coat who stood furthest in the back, his face in a stony expression. The Silent Earl.
“And finally, in the back, we have a rare sighting of Earl Wolfolk,” Stanwyck said.
Everyone in the room smiled at Stanwyck’s joke. Everyone except the tall man, whose mouth, Caroline noticed, did not so much as twitch at its corners. He seemed to positively glower at them.
So he was one of the most eligible men in England? He was handsome, yes, but very severe. He was very tall and had thick, dark hair against his pale face. But he did not appear friendly or even happy to be here.
She watched him take in Nelly, sweep down her small frame and back up as he bowed. Then his gaze fell on Caroline herself. As a companion, little attention was paid to her she had almost forgotten she was being presented as part of the party. People talked and conversed around her but not to her. Her face grew warm as she felt eyes on her. She wondered if his charm had been exaggerated.
Finally, she met his eyes. He did have a presence, to be sure. Perhaps it was because he was so broad-shouldered and tall, he seemed to take up a lot of room.
She had been around women so much lately, that’s almost certainly why he seemed so masculine to her.
The dining room smelled of strong warm broth as they entered. Surely the footman had put it out too early, as it made the room dizzyingly humid. Sweat gathered at once under Caroline’s lacings. She knew her hair would get stringy before the end of dinner. Not that it mattered. All eyes were on Nelly tonight. Truly, her Mama should be proud.
Nelly was a delicate beauty, and tonight she was wearing yellow, which made her own hair shine gold. Her necklace brought out the pink in her cheeks and her hair was pulled back to reveal her dimples.
Lord Stanwyck was at her side as they entered the dining room.
“Miss Featherton, you are sheer perfection tonight. How were your travels to our remote corner of England?”
She smiled at him.
“Very good. Yorkshire is lovely.”
Caroline raised her eyebrows at the comment but said nothing. At least the girl said the right things.
Stanwyck passed Caroline and then moved on. He probably would not look at her again tonight. He had a fine face that most women would call handsome, but something about him seemed almost delicate. His mouth was small and turned up and his sideburns were perfectly trimmed into sharp points on each of his cheekbones. Caroline imagined he spent more time on that than she did on her whole toilet this evening. She knew some men of the ton were vainer than women.
A footman held out a chair for her further down the table from Nelly and she slipped into it as Lord Stanwyck stepped to the head of the table.
Nelly was seated across the table from Caroline and next to the Wolfolk. He bowed gallantly but did not smile. This close she could see he was older than Caroline expected. She had imagined he would be younger. But Wolfolk, broad shoulders and furrowed brow, was considerably all man. He looked closer to Caroline’s age than Nelly’s. Regardless, he and Nelly would make a handsome couple.
“This is Miss Featherton’s first visit to Yorkshire,” Lady Stanwyck announced to the table.
“And how are you finding Yorkshire?” Wolfolk asked.
Nelly cocked her head as though she were considering it for the first time. It was a charming gesture.
“Well, London is much busier, of course. But I am enjoying the country. It’s quite lovely. So many fields.”
Caroline smiled at Nelly. She was doing well. Her manners and her appearance were impeccable tonight. What man could resist the charms of a pretty young woman, especially one as rich as Nelly?
She watched him and Nelly converse. Had her father not burned through his fortune, Caroline would have been in Nelly’s position a few years ago. She squinted a bit and imagined he was making pleasantries toward her. She had to admit she would not have minded.
“Is this your first time to Yorkshire as well?” Stanwyck asked Caroline as she took her first sip of soup.
Hell and blast! A spoonful of soup scalded her tongue and she nearly yelped. Thankfully, Caroline caught herself before she said anything unladylike. She swallowed the burning liquid and tried to appear as though her tongue was not on fire. But tears involuntarily welled up in her eyes. The soup was not only hot in temperature, but also heavily spiced.
She pressed with the napkin to her tingling lips, hoping no one had noticed. Wolfolk looked at her, a curious look on his face.
“Are you well, Miss?”
“Miss Holland is my companion and second cousin,” Nelly said, unaware of Caroline’s distress.
Caroline coughed quietly and reached for her claret and took a grateful sip.
“Yes, I’m very well, thank you. Lady Stanwyck, please pass along my regards to your cook. The soup is delicious,” Caroline said. “Such intense flavor.”
Lady Stanwyck smiled broadly. “Thank you. Our cook has been studying culinary skills from exotic locations. This soup is based upon a recipe from India.”
India. That explained the spice.
“It’s superb,” Wolfolk added while he glanced momentarily at Caroline.
Was he mocking her?
Nelly sipped and made a face. “Oh, but it is hot.”
Caroline had always instructed her not to say anything about food unless it was complimentary.
“It has a spice that you are not accustomed to,” Caroline said, hoping Nelly would understand her meaning. “It’s important it is to try new things in life.”
Stanwyck laughed. “Ah, Miss…” He paused, searching for her name. “Holland, I’m not sure I would agree with that. When you have the best flavors in the world as England does, why bother trying new ones?”
Stanwyck’s younger brother chimed in as well. “Are not English foods the best in the world?”
“Hear, hear,” someone at the table said.
“I am not sure I agree,” Wolfolk said.
The chatter around the table faded and everyone looked at Wolfolk.
“I simply mean one should sample other flavors before one declares England’s the best.”
The rest of the table went absolutely silent. Wolfolk looked up and saw that everyone was watching him.
This was exactly why he preferred to stay home.
Everyone at the table was looking at him.
“I simply mean that French and Italian foods have their own flavors and charms. It is difficult to proclaim one kind of food superior, is it not?”
“Surely, you do not find French food superior, my lord?” Nelly asked.
Other table members leaned in to hear him. He cleared his throat. He knew he was being misunderstood.
“The French have been our enemies, of course. I have met with them on the battlefields. But I do not let my opinion of Bonaparte affect that of every Frenchman I meet. I have eaten many delicious meals in France and even known good Frenchmen and women. My quarrel is with Bonaparte, not with French peasants. I saw how they starved as well.”
“Shocking,” someone whispered.
Stanwyck, ever the host, spoke, “Leave it to you, Wolfolk to sing praise on the French at the dinner table. Fortunately, your prowess as a military leader cannot be questioned.”
Under the table, he felt something kick his leg from the direction of what could only be Stanwyck’s boot. He understood its meaning.
“I simply meant that wars are created by powerful men. But they are fought by ordinary men who often have little choice in the matter. French or English,” Wolfolk said and sipped his soup.
Lady Stanwyck interrupted to save the conversation.
“We have planned for a picnic tomorrow after a nature walk.”
“A nature walk and picnic sound wonderful,” Caroline said.
Lady Stanwyck smiled at her gratefully. “We hope the weather will abide.”
Stanwyck looked at Wolfolk pointedly, a silent plea to tone down his words. He had done it again, alienating the people who should be his friends. He knew Stanwyck understood his meaning, but then, only he understood the horrors he had seen at war and how he knew that France had suffered nearly as much as the English.
He needed to change the subject.
“Where are you from, Miss Holland?”
“Gloucestershire.”
“Ah.” He said nothing more.
Wolfolk tried to engage Miss Featherton again.
“What other activities interest you, Miss Featherton?” Wolfolk asked.
“Oh, well, riding and driving, of course. Particularly a smart curricle.”
Stanwyck laughed. “Ah, I have a brand new curricle that is the lightest, quickest gig, and a new matched pair of roans to drive it who need practice.”
“Can I take them out tomorrow?” John, Stanwyck’s brother asked hopefully.
“I think Wolfolk would be honored to take Miss Featherton for a drive, wouldn’t you, old boy?” Stanwyck asked him.
“Yes. Of course, Miss Featherton.”
“There, it is done. You shall both drive tomorrow. John, you and Miss Holland can follow behind in a wagon.” Stanwyck nodded at Nelly and Wolfolk.
Wolfolk smiled. “That sounds very pleasant.”
He hoped his expression did not appear false, but then saw from Miss Featheron’s smile that she was genuinely thrilled.
She did have a lovely smile. And when she turned it to him, he felt a stirring that had been asleep in him for a long while. Maybe taking a pretty young lady for a drive was just the activity he needed.
After dinner, the men retired to the porch with cigars and brandy, while the women gathered in a sitting room and listened to guests play the pianoforte.
Caroline sat on a cushioned chair near Nelly, who had befriended Lady Stanwyck’s cousin, Alice. They giggled and whispered to each other like schoolgirls. Caroline decided that allowing Nelly’s girlish indulgences was a small price to pay as the men were no longer present to pass judgment.
During a lull in between songs, Caroline approached Nelly as she refilled her crystal punch glass.
“What do you think of the earl, Nelly?”
Nelly had finally stopped giggling for a moment.
She exhaled as though considering it for the first time.
“He is not an unattractive man. He is goodly tall, although he does seem severe. He did not smile much. Do you think that is a temporary or permanent condition?” She asked and took a sip of pink punch.
“Faith, consider, Nelly, that he has lost his young wife. One would assume that is natural and temporary in his circumstances.”
Nelly nodded.
“We will go driving tomorrow. Hopefully, I can make him smile then.”
“I’m sure you will, for who can resist this face?” Caroline chucked at her chin. Nelly gave a bright smile before her eyes widened in concern.
“We shall have to find the correct outfit for tomorrow’s warm weather.” Caroline, who knew the contents of Nelly’s wardrobe intimately, nodded.
“That we will, Nelly.”
4
Caroline woke up early the next morning, saw that it was a sunny, cloudless day and decided that today Nelly and Wolfolk would begin to suit. Even if it meant injury to one or both of them.
Nelly’s bedchamber door was closed and she doubted the girl would be up before ten o’clock, so she wrapped a shawl over her dress and went in search of tea. Although it was not yet eight o’clock, many of the house’s occupants were up and moving about.
The hired ones anyway.
A maid passed by, carrying a pastel lady’s dress. Downstairs a footman shoveled coal out of a fireplace while another held a pail for him. The staff paused when they saw her, and she knew they were ready to disappear had she been a more important houseguest, but as she was simply a chaperone, they shrugged and went on with their cleaning. That suited Caroline. She didn’t want to be in anyone’s way. Near the kitchen, windows were opened for cleaning and she felt the cool morning air drifting into the house.
After she found tea and a spare scone in the kitchen thanks for a friendly cook, she decided to take a better look at the gardens.
It would likely be another warm day. The sun had not yet burned off the last of the morning mist and she was glad she wore her shawl.
She walked away from the house, passing banks of lavender flowers beginning to open towards the sun. Further down, white and red roses climbed wooden trellises in the rose garden. It was fragrant and heavenly and she was fortunate enough to be alone to enjoy it.
Beyond the roses began rows of intricate hedgerows, which she followed. How lovely it was to have a few moments to herself. She turned down another row and heard a bark. Just then a large, shaggy red dog appeared, wagging its tail and carrying a heavy, muddy stick.
“Hello, you,” Caroline laughed. “Looking to play? Sorry, I’m not going to pick up that dirty stick.” The dog set the stick in front of her to throw.
“A wise decision. I was not so clever,” she heard a male voice say and then saw Wolfolk appear around the row, his gloves muddied. “Gloucestershire, correct?”
God, would she never stop running into this man?
“That is not my name, my lord.”
“I know that, Miss…,” he paused, obviously searching for her surname.
“Holland.”
“Holland, I’m sorry. I do not excel at remembering names.”
Caroline smiled to herself. “That is all right. Peers do not generally have to learn names when everyone else knows theirs.”
He looked chastened but smiled wryly. “Anyway, I did not intend to intrude upon you this morning.”
“You’re not intruding. I believe all parties are welcome in a garden such as this. Even muddy, four-legged ones.” Caroline stopped and patted the dog on a clean patch of fur.
“You’ve met
Louis.” He nodded to the dog.
“Does this handsome beast belong to you?”
“Technically, no. He is Stanwyck’s, but the dratted dog has followed me since I stopped to pet him yesterday and now I cannot shake him.”
Caroline ran her hand over the soft red ears as the dog sprawled in front of her. “There are companions far worse than this fellow, I should think.”
Wolfolk’s expression softened. “Of course. He’s a good dog, He seems to never tire of fetch.”
“My brother had dogs like this growing up. I do believe they slept in the same bed with him when my mother wasn’t looking.”
The dog’s large tongue fell out of his mouth and lolled in the damp grass.
“He seems to like you. Brothers, you say? Did any serve in the military?”
“One brother,” Caroline said quickly and stood up. “I’m sure you’ve never met him. Excuse me, my lord.”
She did not want to be asked more about her brother. She prepared to continue on her walk. Louis raised his head when the ear scratching stopped and he pawed at her skirt impatiently.
“Louis…” Wolfolk warned, but the dog’s paws had already muddied her skirt. “I am sorry for your hem. Please have your dress sent to my valet. He can clean anything, Miss Holland.”
“Hmmm,” Caroline said as she examined the hem. “Well, it is an old dress. I’m not sure it’s worth the soap to wash it.”
“I insist. This has been entirely my fault. Had Louis not fallen in love with me—although you can hardly blame him—and I have not taken him outside, your dress would not be dirty. Although I do think the ultimate blame falls to Stanwyck for being a neglectful owner. Perhaps we should collect the guilty furry party and throw him at the mercy of his Lordship.”
“I fear that may involve more mud.”
Wolfolk smiled and gazed down at the lounging dog. He was finally looking less serious, which was an improvement.
“Quite right. Honestly, I prefer Louis’s company to some of the other guests, so I do not wish to call him out. “
Caroline was struck by how boyish he looked when he was not scowling.
Lord to Love Again: A Sweet and Clean Regency Romance Page 3