The Second Season (Regency Romance)

by Heather Chapman

  “I’m not sure Lucy would agree with you. I think she has told me numerous times that fashion comes before comfort.”

  Mr. Clark only raised his brow to her comment as he cinched up the laces. He held the footed boot in his hand, a small look of satisfaction appearing across his face. After both boots were on, Caroline stood and walked across the room.

  “I think they fit rather well, Mr. Clark. I am sure you hear it often, but I will say it again. You are talented.”

  Mr. Clark grinned. “I am glad you like them Miss Hopkins, but I am more pleased that you seem to have recovered so well.”

  Caroline nodded, finding she could not look away from his dark brown eyes until he bent to collect the paper scraps and box.

  “I visited with Miss Lenore on occasion while at the Jaspers’,” Caroline said. “I learned quite a few stories about you. I’m afraid your serious manners cannot fool me now. Georgiana told me how you used to pull her hair and wrestle with her brothers. I had not thought you such a tease.”

  Mr. Clark’s shoulders straightened as he turned to face Caroline. “Georgiana was always one to talk. I suppose she told you all sorts of other lies. I will vouch for none of her stories, except for perhaps the ones she told of my honor, bravery, and discipline,” he said with a crooked smile.

  Caroline brought her hand to her cheek as she pretended to contemplate. “I am not sure I remember such stories, but I will have to ask her when we meet again.”

  Mr. Clark inched closer as he mockingly added, “Perhaps you’d best not. I would hate to challenge Georgiana’s recollections. The female sex can be so sensitive when it comes to matters of memory.”

  Caroline pursed her lips, standing on her toes to meet his gaze. “I am sure that is correct, in the same way that gentlemen embellish the noble traits about themselves.”

  Mr. Clark shook his head. He sarcastically explained, “I am sure a true gentleman would never venture to embellish his talents or traits, just as a true genteel woman would never exaggerate the truth.”

  Caroline nodded, though she did not smile. Her thoughts had wandered elsewhere. She cast her eyes downward, biting the edge of her lip. “I hope you will not find me impertinent, but I cannot forget the situation surrounding my accident. I hope I did not seem … ,” She colored as she searched for the correct word.

  Mr. Clark grinned. “Like you were enjoying yourself?”

  Caroline sighed lightly. She crossed her arms and stuck her chin up. “No, that is not what I was I was going to say. I did enjoy myself.” She paused, swallowing. “Very much so. I only hope I did not appear unladylike.”

  Mr. Clark hadn’t even a moment to respond when Bentley appeared at the door, announcing the arrival of Lord Searly. Caroline instantly fell back a step from Mr. Clark, her composure crumbling. At this, Mr. Clark’s face turned a slight shade of red and he straightened his shoulders. He silently nodded to Lord Searly.

  “Lord Searly, I had not heard you arrive.” Caroline stood frozen.

  There was a slight pause as Lord Searly eyed her, Mr. Clark, and the wrappings in Mr. Clark’s arms.

  “Good afternoon to you, too, Caroline,” Lord Searly replied.

  Mr. Clark’s eyes were fixed on the bouquet of flowers Lord Searly was holding at his side. “Lord Searly, you find me on a delivery to Miss Hopkins,” Mr. Clark said as he held out his hand.

  A small smile spread across the duke’s face as he shook the outstretched hand. “Clark, I had not expected to see you here, but it is a delight nonetheless.”

  Caroline found her lips incapable of moving. She only glanced back and forth at the two men in front of her, wishing she could escape to another room, or anywhere else for that matter.

  “I had not had a chance to deliver Miss Hopkins’s boots until this afternoon. I am just on my way.” Mr. Clark turned toward Caroline with a slight bow. “Miss Hopkins.”

  Caroline followed him past the door, accidentally brushing shoulders with the duke. “Mr. Clark. Thank you for mending my slippers as well. They are lovely, as was our visit,” she offered, scanning his face.

  “You are most welcome. Good day,” Mr. Clark replied much too formally. He turned to leave, and before Caroline could add anything else, he was gone.

  Lord Searly took her arm, escorting her back to the parlor where they sat beside one another.

  “Caroline, you left me without any word. I called twice on your mother to inquire about you myself.” He was seated much too close for her comfort, and his possessive tone seemed unwarranted.

  “I did not wish you to worry,” Caroline said, avoiding his gaze. “I did not think you would worry. It was but a slight head wound, nothing to be so concerned about.”

  “But how could I not worry? And with the outlandish circumstances, how could I not wonder? Is it true you injured yourself in a game of blind man’s bluff?” Lord Searly looked down at Caroline with furrowed brows.

  Caroline felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she was reminded of that night. “It was a silly way to injure myself, but such things happen.”

  Lord Searly exhaled loudly, and took her hand in his. His voice became exaggeratedly serious as he spoke. “Promise me you will not be so foolish again. I cannot have you hurt. You must realize how I suffered.”

  “And just how did you suffer?” Caroline asked him blatantly. The way he had turned her suffering into his own was too much to bear.

  He straightened. “The thought of you hurt, without me by your side, it was far more taxing than you realize.”

  “So I am to only injure myself when you are near?” she asked dryly, shaking her head in bewilderment.

  Lord Searly laughed. “I would rather you not go about hurting yourself at all, but if you must, then yes, I prefer it if I am there to see to your needs.”

  What audacity, Caroline thought to herself. She stood, strolling to the window as she watched a carriage drive by slowly.

  “Caroline?” Lord Searly asked tenderly.

  She did not answer. The only sound in the room was the carriage outside the window.

  “Caroline, it is only because I care for you that I talk so.” He was standing behind her now, and he ventured to touch her shoulder.

  Caroline turned. She felt the anger rising to her face, and before she could calm herself she thoughtlessly exclaimed, “Oh? Is that why you treat me like a child?” She pushed away from his touch. “I think it is time you took your leave, Your Grace.”

  Lord Searly’s eyes turned dark at her words, and he twisted his head to the side silently. Caroline was certain she had offended him for he turned to leave without saying another word.

  A

  Lady Hopkins was standing in the foyer when Lord Searly came out of the parlor. She smiled warmly at him. “Lord Searly, what a pleasure to see you.”

  He bowed politely, but he did not meet her gaze. “As always, Lady Hopkins.” His voice fell flat, lacking its usual enthusiasm. He cleared his throat. “I find I have come at a most inconvenient time, and as such, I am on my way.” He began to collect his hat and coat from Bentley.

  “Oh, but you must stay, for it looks like rain, and I have been longing to inquire about your dear mother. How is the duchess? Come, let us visit.” Lady Hopkins gestured toward the parlor.

  Lord Searly glanced through the open French doors, and upon seeing Caroline’s back turned, he shook his head softly. “I fear I must go.”

  Lady Hopkins sighed sadly. “Your Grace, I hope you will forgive Caroline. She has not been herself.”

  The duke met Lady Hopkins’s gaze at last.

  “It has been quite taxing for the poor girl to stay so long with the Jaspers, away from her family. And though she has recovered well, I fear she has not yet recovered from the humiliation of it all.”

  He exhaled, nodding gently. “I suppose you are right. Thank you for speaking so candidly. I shall make it a point to act more sensitive concerning the matter.”

  Lady Hopkins grinned as he offered anot
her bow upon his departure.

  A

  CHAPTER 21

  Thomas had not been able to rid himself of irritation. What was at first surprise and embarrassment had quickly turned to anger and something far worse. He balked at his misery when he recognized the dreadful feeling. Jealousy. To be jealous was, of course, not the type of emotion he was accustomed to; and further, to be induced to such a feeling by the sight of Lord Searly and Caroline seemed foolish. Of course the two were suited. He stared at his reflection in the small mirror on the table with a mix of emotions—anger, jealousy, and, most pronounced, pity. He pitied himself. He pitied the fact that he had been so careless as to allow himself to feel something for Caroline.

  The whole situation was most unusual for Thomas.

  And yet, Caroline was unusual.

  Thomas had become enamored with her. He knew she was uncommonly pretty, but the images that sprung across his mind when contemplating the girl had far more to do with the meaning behind her dancing eyes and marked glances. Caroline’s green eyes ignited a spark at the slightest hint of humor or debate. Her mind was too quick in processing the mere movement of the brow, an indication of irony, or the slightest clue of hypocrisy. And then, there was the matter of her lips. She smiled far too frequently in comparison with other London ladies. She teased. And yet, when matters became most serious, or better yet, when people concealed their innermost thoughts or feelings, Caroline would pry and ask the most ridiculous questions.

  Somehow, Thomas had come to admire Caroline for her courage to question. She questioned everything. Even when Thomas had been conversing easily with her, he found Caroline’s eyes were always filled with inquiry as she scanned his face and movements. What answer she longed for, he could only guess, but Thomas had persuaded himself more than once that she longed for his answer of affection. He laughed aloud at the thought. He held regard for a true lady, the daughter of a baron and an heiress of a fortune.

  But it was of no matter. He saw everything a bit more clearly now. He saw it would never be. For not only was Caroline of greater rank and financial superiority, but she was above him in intellect and manner. Thomas decided he would find a way to push his feelings aside.

  Unfortunately, this resolution did little to change his heart. He found he still contemplated her despite his determination. He replayed their secret display behind the curtain over and over in his head. He remembered the thrill he had felt as she had instinctively sprung to his chest in avoidance of Charles’s lanky arm. He became absolutely miserable when he remembered the way her head leaned against his shoulder when he had carried her after the accident. His mind became a hopeless mess of sentimental ponderings—her bright eyes, her laughter, her surprised expressions, the way her tiny hand felt against his arm, her dark curls that bounced as she floated across a room. It was in humiliation that Thomas found himself expelling a loud howl of irritation.

  The sound of Joseph’s hurried footsteps sent blood rushing to Thomas’s cheeks.

  “Tom! Are you all right?” the clerk asked seriously. Joseph leaned against the table with a hand extended in the air as he tried to catch his breath.

  Thomas twisted his hands in awkward attempts, motioning to the heap on the floor. “I cannot find anything to my liking!”

  Joseph nodded. He looked to the floor at the heap of crumpled pages, the hint of a smile spreading across his face. “And may I ask what you are referring to?”

  Thomas shook in embarrassment, impulsively knocking a chair over.

  “Everything.”

  A

  CHAPTER 22

  Mrs. Jasper had contemplated the matter long enough, and she felt she had come to a satisfying arrangement. She knew Charles was not the ideal candidate to carry off such a plan, but beggars cannot be choosers. Her only son would marry well, and Miss Lucy Hopkins was the only reasonable choice. The poor girl had refused his polite offer.

  “Now, Charles, you must quit this despicable display. You have an upcoming proposal to attend to, my son. You must positively quit this sulking,” she commanded, stroking his cheek in a brash manner, albeit tender in her consideration.

  “You seem too sure of it, Mother. I do not think Lucy will come near me, let alone agree to marry me.” Charles dropped his shoulders and spastically sent his arms flailing, cursing as he did so.

  “Charles, Lucy is not beyond persuasion. I feel that given the choice of scandal or marriage to you, she will choose marriage. She is a sensible girl,” Mrs. Jasper replied with a look of concern. “At least she seems to be.”

  “But how is it done? What will you have me do? I do not see how—”

  Mrs. Jasper held her hand up in protest. It silenced him in an instant. “I have it on good authority the Hopkins sisters will be attending the spring ball. I have already secured your invitation. You must compromise Lucy in a public fashion if she persists in refusing your offer.”

  “And what tactics am I to employ in such a venture?”

  Mrs. Jasper shook her head in frustration. “Oh, dear boy, by whatever method it takes! I see I must once again dictate your every move.”

  Charles stiffened, casting his eyes toward the floor. He tapped his finger in contemplation, humming a horrific tune.

  Mrs. Jasper exhaled angrily, grasping at his hands in a frustrated fashion. “Oh, Charles. You will never get the girl if you carry on so. And to think you had thought a proper proposal would do the job.” She began laughing in condescension. “Charles, you see, life is only full of so many opportunities. If you allow Lucy to slip through your fingers, you will not have such an opportunity for years to come. You must see that, as I certainly do.”

  “Yes, Mother,” he said, a hint of sadness evident in his voice.

  “And to ensure you will not fail, I tell you this. I have kept it from you for quite some time, hoping you might never need know, but your father’s will is very specific, Charles. If you are not married within a year, everything will go to your cousin Felix. If you do not wish to marry a girl you do not know or care for, you must not fail.”

  Charles eyes widened.

  “You see, my dear boy, it is just as imperative to you as it is to me that you marry, and marry quickly. Our livelihood depends upon it.”

  Charles began sweating profusely. His face reddened as he stuttered, “I shan’t fail, Mother. With your help, depend upon it.”

  A

  Georgiana swallowed hard as she anticipated discovery from behind the doorway. She shuffled around noisily, entering the room in a disheveled haste. “My dear aunt, what on earth could have you both so enthralled?”

  Mrs. Jasper waved her arm in dismissal to the question. “Have you seen to your dress for the ball next week, my darling girl?” she asked Georgiana lovingly.

  “Almost,” Georgiana lied, “but there are few matters I must attend to in town today.”

  “Of course, Georgiana. Anything you need.” Mrs. Jasper grinned.

  A

  The shop was filled with the tinkering of tools and Georgiana’s chatter.

  “Tom, you should have seen the vile woman. Poor Miss Hopkins has no clue as to her impending doom.”

  Thomas stood in contemplation, holding a carved last in his hand. “Georgiana, you know you must warn her.”

  “But how? How am I to approach her? Are you not friends with Miss Caroline Hopkins? I am sure she would listen to you. Oh, Tom, it is just that—I feel my loyalties are being questioned. I know it is not right, what my cousin is plotting, but the Jaspers have funded my education, taken me into their home. Somehow it feels like a betrayal to expose them.”

  Thomas remained silent.

  “You must sense my difficulties.”

  After another bout of silence, Thomas stirred. “Georgiana, the only difficulty you face is one of conscience.”

  Georgiana shrunk away from him, leaning against a stool.

  “I do not mean to chide you, only to remind you of the importance of what you witnessed. Do you not thi
nk it was providence that placed you there to overhear your aunt’s scheme?”

  Joseph entered the booth, motioning to Thomas. “Mr. Lyleton is here for his fitting, sir.”

  Georgiana straightened her shoulders, glancing to Thomas in farewell.

  “Thank you, Joseph,” Thomas said softly. “I will be with him momentarily.”

  Georgiana turned to leave.

  “I am sorry for raising my voice at you, cousin,” Thomas said. “But I hope you will take my advice.”

  The sound of her footsteps was his only reply.

  A

  CHAPTER 23

  Sixteen Years Earlier

  The young maid held the infant in her arms, rocking him slowly while humming a soft lullaby. The baby was asleep. His head rested in the maid’s arms, his body swaddled in the newly knitted blanket.

  The baby’s dark head of hair was charming, along with his full cheeks and bright eyes. He favored Lord Hopkins. Betsy paced the room, aware that the babe was beginning to stir.

  Lady Hopkins lay motionless. Her face was pale, and she had hardly eaten for days. She had only spent three days in recovering since the birth. The birth had been her most difficult yet, and the doctor was concerned with her amount of blood loss. He declared it would be catastrophic were she to have another child.

  Lady Hopkins smiled briefly at Betsy, reaching her arm toward the baby. Betsy indulged her, carefully placing little Phillip John beside her. Betsy faltered slightly at the weight of the babe in her left arm.

  “And what a strong boy he will be, ma’am.” She laughed, misty in adoration. “Little Phillip will be a good master, just as his papa.”

  Lady Hopkins did not meet her gaze. She traced the small baby’s features with her finger, resting it over his chest. She closed her eyes. At last, she exhaled and offered, “John. We shall call him by his second name, John.”