The Second Season (Regency Romance)

by Heather Chapman

  Caroline stared blankly at the man. A way out of this one? She tore her arm from under his and crossed her arms in front of her. “I do not see your meaning. I have never intended to trap you, Your Grace.”

  He let out a hearty laugh as he helped her to a small bench. “I do not think you ever attempted to trap me, a refreshing change from the rest of the lot. I found you charming and pleasant at first, my amusement for the season, I decided. But then … but then you have been so different from any other woman I’ve met. I simply will not be content to let you go.”

  Caroline felt her cheeks darken in blush as she turned her head away from him. She cleared her throat, stumbling over her words, “Lord Searly, sir—that is, Your Grace, how can you talk so? What you speak of is, is—a silly phase that will end just as the season.”

  Lord Searly reached for her face, softly brushing her cheek and cupping her small chin in his hand. “Are you so indifferent to me?” His face was serious, and Caroline could sense the deeper man once more. “Please, tell me if I have no chance.”

  Caroline bit the side of her cheek, shaking nervously. It was the same question her mother had asked of her. She was not blind to the man’s charm. She met his gaze once more, replying with a tremble in her voice, “No, Lord Searly, I am not indifferent to you.”

  His eyes brightened as she spoke the words, but his reply startled her. “Then shall I speak with your father?”

  Caroline sprang to her feet, placing her hands on her hips. “No, you mustn’t!” she shouted. She was startled by the rapidity of her own words. “That is—I am not ready for anything of that sort. I cannot give you any promise as of yet. I feel I am—I am afraid I require more time.”

  Lord Searly knelt before her on the melting snow. He stole her gaze once more and calmly whispered, “I shall wait for you.”

  A

  CHAPTER 16

  Thomas pulled the cravat from his neck and flung it on the floor despairingly. If his father could see him now, he would have shaken his head in shame. To have worked so hard and attained so much, only to be defeated by a cravat! Thomas flung himself on the bed, and forced himself to breathe deeply. At long last, he returned to the silky heap upon the floor, determined to do his worst to the poor thing.

  His reflection was the picture of a gentleman, but Thomas felt like an imposter. His fresh navy coat had only been worn three times this season, and his elegantly tied cravat had been the result of countless hours of battling. Thomas did not feel at ease in such attire. If it were not for Georgiana, Thomas was sure he would have spent the evening working. She was like a sister to him. And though Thomas had acquired the status of a gentleman because of his skill and Georgiana had become a much sought after lady because of her looks, Thomas knew they shared something much deeper—their upbringing. They knew what the bottom looked like, and they had both taken the opportunity to rise above it.

  A

  Georgiana welcomed Thomas into the Parlor. After being greeted by Mrs. Jasper, Georgiana’s insufferable aunt, and Charles, Georgiana’s cousin, Thomas found he was the last to arrive in the company. He nodded cordially to the faces he did not recognize, resting on the face of Miss Caroline Hopkins. He smiled genuinely, and offered a slight bow. Georgiana took his arm, leading him along.

  “I must introduce all of you to my dear cousin, Mr. Thomas Clark. He is the renowned cordwainer of London, but more importantly, the dearest friend to me. This,” she said, turning to Thomas, “is Miss Margaret Bolton. We met when I was away at school. She is a dear soul. To her left is Miss Cora Crawford, a friend of Margaret’s. Then there is Mr. Smith, Mr. Low, Mr. Jenkins, and the young Hopkins girls—Miss Lucy and Miss Caroline, both of whom I am honored to come to know. You, of course, have already met my aunt and Charles.”

  Thomas nodded politely, hoping he would not be quizzed on the first five names Georgiana had mentioned.

  Georgiana beamed up at the others. “You must excuse Tom. He may seem shy, but just wait until you see him sing or dance!”

  Thomas scowled as he found a seat near the three gentlemen. He could feel Caroline’s eyes following him, and he could not help stealing a look at her. She looked beautiful, in a light green evening gown, her dark curls cascading down the back of her head. A gold chain hung from her slender neck. Her eyes seemed to brighten as if she was pleasantly surprised upon seeing him. She met him with a smile, and Thomas found he was at a loss for words. He stumbled as he attempted to address her.

  “Miss Caroline, Miss Lucy, you—you both look well this evening. I presume you have enjoyed London?”

  They both smiled, but before they could answer, Georgiana interrupted. “Come now, Tom. You did not tell me you knew any of my guests! Pray, how do you know the famous Miss Lucy and Miss Caroline Hopkins?”

  Thomas raised one brow. “They are my customers. Did you forget you have crossed paths with Miss Caroline once before?” he asked, his eyes fixed to the floor.

  Georgiana sat in silent contemplation for a moment.

  Miss Bolton brightened and turned to Lucy. “Truly? Miss Lucy, you must tell me how you managed it! My mother has attempted to procure me an appointment with Mr. Clark for ages. I have only recently had my measurements taken, thanks to Georgiana.” She smiled in admiration at Thomas.

  He shrugged off the attention, attempting a stroll around the room.

  “I’m not sure, Miss Bolton, though my sister and I are aware of the talents and reputation of Mr. Clark,” Lucy replied sweetly. “He has already completed our ball slippers. We now await new boots.”

  “I am simply sick with anticipation of my new slippers,” Miss Bolton said, swooning in Thomas’s direction.

  “You best take care, Miss Bolton,” Caroline interjected with a hint of mockery. “I had a sizable blister at the back of my foot after wearing my slippers the first night. I would not wish it upon you.”

  Thomas chuckled, but refused to join the conversation. He picked up a few encyclopedias that lay on a side table and began flipping through the pages. The ladies continued to chat openly, while the three other gentlemen sat listening. Charles, Thomas noticed, stood strangely close to Lucy, staring down any gentleman that dared to look toward her. Lucy looked most uncomfortable situated so closely to her neighbor, yet she continued in her sweet manner, conversing with the other ladies.

  Thomas had not joined in much of the conversation. In fact, he had almost removed himself entirely from the company, when he heard Georgiana break into a whisper. However, it was the kind of whisper that was more audible than hushed.

  “Miss Caroline, I have heard so much about you. We have hardly spoken, but I am excited at the prospect of becoming more acquainted. Tell me, is it true what they say about Lord Searly having his attentions fixed on you?”

  Caroline blushed at the mention of Lord Searly’s name, and Thomas felt uneasy. She attempted to answer Georgiana in hushed tones, but Thomas caught her response below the others’ ramblings.

  “I would not believe everything you hear, Miss Lenore. I do not think Lord Searly has serious intentions with any of the ladies he meets.” Caroline sat taller, straightening her gown.

  “But he does flirt with you, then? He is so handsome, and so rich! I’ve heard that he is the catch of all of London!”

  Caroline inched closer. “Miss Lenore, you must forgive me. I cannot speak for the man. I suppose I amuse him, yes, but there is little substance beyond that between us.”

  Georgiana sighed loudly. “I only wish I could meet him. I have seen him twice in town, once at a ball where he nodded to me. I thought I should faint of heat. He is supremely elegant. I do not know how you talk about him so dispassionately.”

  Caroline smiled, but did not respond further. After a moment of pause, she prompted Georgiana loudly, “Did you not say your cousin Mr. Clark is an excellent singer?”

  Georgiana giggled as she turned toward Thomas, who was now standing much closer to the pair. “Why yes! He is excellent. He must sing for us ton
ight.” Georgiana stood, motioning to Thomas, and made her way to the piano. Thomas followed her, while giving a marked glance at Caroline.

  “And without the slightest protest?” Caroline said with a smile. “Very well, Mr. Clark, for if there is anything I abhor, it is false modesty.”

  Thomas shook his head playfully, but made no reply. It was pointless to protest when Georgiana was so insistent. She began playing a soft melody, one of which Thomas and her had sung together often. It was a song his father had taught him when he was a boy. The room fell silent as he began to sing, and his rich baritone voice seemed to fill the entirety of the room.

  Thomas dared to glance at Caroline. She had moved closer to the music stand, resting one hand against the bookshelf. She appeared to be equally moved and surprised by his abilities. When she saw him looking at her, her eyes quickly darted downward and she took a step back to the settee. Mr. Clark finished the last note and escorted Georgiana to her seat. The small group applauded heartily.

  “Bravo, Mr. Clark!” Miss Bolton exclaimed, a little too enthusiastically for Mr. Clark’s taste. “You are not only a gifted cordwainer, but also a supremely talented singer.”

  “You put us to shame, Clark. I shall not get even a glance from the ladies, now,” Mr. Low lightheartedly proclaimed.

  Thomas nodded graciously.

  “Mr. Clark, I must ask,” inquired Miss Bolton, “How did you come to sing so beautifully?”

  Thomas shrugged his shoulders as he turned toward the inquisitive faces. “My father sang. We used to sing together. I spent seven years in Paris, and while there, I learned the art of being a gentleman.”

  The three other men began to laugh.

  Mr. Low placed a heavy hand against Thomas’s shoulder. “You must teach me this art. I suppose it might help my efforts with the ladies.”

  A few giggles erupted.

  Thomas seated himself across from Caroline.

  Miss Bolton, Lucy, and Miss Crawford followed with solos on the piano. It was pleasant enough, but Mr. Smith had had enough. After Miss Crawford had been applauded and sufficiently complimented, he stood and addressed Georgiana. “Miss Lenore, shall we not liven up the evening with a few games?”

  Georgiana brightened at the suggestion and nodded approvingly. “Perhaps we shall! And I know just the game to start it off.” She proceeded to blow out the candles in the parlor, squelching any light to be seen, except for a single candle she held near her face. From behind her back she pulled out a crimson scarf.

  “Who shall be first in blind man’s bluff?”

  Charles jumped at the opportunity. “Count on me, cousin!”

  Thomas heard Caroline stifle a small giggle, and Lucy looked relieved at the absence of Charles from her side.

  Georgiana commanded Charles to bend to his knees while she fastened the scarf around his eyes. “You all know the rules, yes? Charles will be blindfolded as we move around the parlor. He must catch one of us and correctly guess who he has caught.”

  Everyone nodded. Even Thomas knew the game. And with that, the small group was shuffling around the room, attempting to avoid the uncomfortable reach of Charles.

  Thomas was quick to dash behind the drapery. He hoped to steer clear of all the action. He peeked from behind the drapes and watched the others scurry across the room.

  Caroline was pressed against the nearby window, and Charles was approaching her. His lanky arms scattered all sorts of trinkets around as he clumsily searched every surface for any sign of human flesh. Sure of being discovered, Caroline dodged a swing of his arm and ran almost directly into Thomas behind the curtains.

  “You have discovered my refuge, Miss Hopkins,” Thomas softly whispered.

  “I shall endure any confinement to escape the grasp of Charles Jasper.”

  Thomas accidentally laughed. “And that is the only enticement worthy to confine you with a man such as me?”

  “I suppose I would venture behind the drapery with you often if it meant you would sing to me,” she replied. “An enticement I’m sure Miss Bolton would not object to, either.”

  Thomas shook his head, raising a brow at her, though he knew she could not see it in the darkness.

  Their quiet conversation was interrupted with a slobbery sound from beyond the drapes. “Lucy? Is that you?” Charles’s arms were moving up and down the drapes now.

  Caroline was forced to move closer to Thomas. The two were silent as Charles continued his search. He reached behind the drapes, and in desperation, Caroline retreated directly into Thomas’s chest. Thomas twitched upon the encounter, but afraid of being discovered in such a situation, remained motionless. At last Charles’s searching hands seemed to concentrate in another direction. Caroline retreated in an instant, too embarrassed to say anything.

  It was then that Charles’s hand magically reappeared, the muffled sound of “I have got you at last!” making its way to Thomas’s ears. Caroline attempted to fly to the other side of Thomas in order to avoid the flailing arm when she hit her head against the marble mantle with great force. Thomas caught her by the waist as she fell unconscious to the floor.

  A

  CHAPTER 17

  Caroline woke to a pounding headache. She felt her mother’s hand holding her own. Before she even opened her eyes, she knew it was morning. She heard the birds chirping just outside her window. Usually a delightful sound, the birds’ songs now sent a stabbing pain behind her eyes. She cringed at the noise, pulling the covers above her head.

  “Caroline? Are you awake?” asked Lady Hopkins, her voice full of concern.

  “Yes, Mama,” was all Caroline could muster.

  An elderly woman spoke, “Drink this, child. The peppermint will do your head some good.”

  Caroline lowered the covers and opened her eyes slowly, only to find she was not in her own room. She sipped the herbal concoction obediently, willing to drink anything so long as it offered relief from the headache she now faced.

  “What happened? How did I—” Caroline looked to her mother questioningly.

  “You took a blow to the head last night. Do you not recall anything?”

  “I remember hitting my head, but—where am I?”

  “You are still at the Jaspers’ home, I am afraid. The doctor did not think it safe to move you, for fear of bleeding in your brain. You hit your head quite hard. Mr. Clark sent for Dr. Rose, and then for me, as soon as it happened. Bless his soul. The doctor will return in a couple hours to check in on you.”

  Caroline tried to sit up, but found the task quite impossible. “Oh, Mama. I do not want to be a bother, even for Mrs. Jasper.”

  “Hush, Caroline. I will hear nothing of it. I am just glad to see you awake and speaking in coherent sentences. You were talking quite the load of rubbish last night.” Lady Hopkins dabbed at Caroline’s head with a cold cloth.

  Caroline’s eyes widened. “What did I say?”

  Lady Hopkins’s smile seemed to brighten the dim room. “When Mr. Clark carried you to this room, you yelled that you were quite well enough to walk yourself. When we tried to pacify you, you began sobbing, begging to see your Papa.”

  Caroline cringed at her mother’s words, shaking her head in disbelief. She gripped her mother’s hand tighter. “That is dreadful. Is that the worst of it?”

  Lady Hopkins smiled playfully but did not answer. “I think it best if you get more rest before the doctor arrives.”

  Dr. Rose diagnosed Caroline with a concussion, one that he felt optimistic she should recover from easily. He did advise, however, that she not be moved from the Jaspers’ home until she showed no signs of trauma. It was impossible to tell the extent of the damage, but Dr. Rose cautioned those commissioned with her care to be watchful for any strange behavior.

  Caroline felt utterly out of place at the Jaspers. Though there was little she could do about the situation, she could not help wishing she was anywhere but there. She was burdened with Mrs. Jasper’s frequent visits, during most of which Ca
roline feigned sleep. Occasionally, Georgiana would appear to check on her. Luckily, Charles was not allowed in the room.

  Lucy had promised to visit daily, and Caroline felt ashamed to think she was the cause of her sister’s having to visit the Jaspers so often. Louisa had come to tend Caroline, which offered only mild comfort when compared to the fact that she was under the same roof as Charles. Furthermore, Louisa was constantly concocting an herbal remedy for Caroline to try, and while some proved effective, others were nothing more than a stinky tea she was forced to drink every hour.

  After four days, Caroline felt only a dull headache, which was just what the doctor had hoped for. She felt well enough to sit in bed. She even attempted to read, which unfortunately only led her headache to a relapsing sting. There was little to do but think, and Caroline could not turn her mind away from Mr. Clark. She well remembered his song and their flirting behind the drapery, and she felt humiliated. She had inconvenienced the Jaspers and ended Charles’s party.

  By the fifth day, Caroline begged Louisa to help dress her. The Jaspers had gone out on this particular day, and Caroline felt the need to escape the bedroom she had been so confined in for the past five days. With Louisa’s help, Caroline managed the stairs. Louisa found a small chair and moved it to a back sunroom, where Caroline sat for two hours straight, feeling the sun on her face and thinking of the time she could once again move freely without the stabbing pain behind her eyes. She had almost drifted off as she sat in the chair, daydreaming peacefully, when the chime of the front door interrupted her thoughts.

  “If you will just follow me, sir. You may see her yourself.”

  Caroline shot up in her chair, resulting in a sharp reverberation of her skull. She gripped the sides of her temples, attempting to regain her sense of balance. She lifted her eyes to the doorway to see Mr. Clark. The sight of him startled her so much that she attempted to stand.