The Second Season (Regency Romance)

by Heather Chapman

  A

  Caroline was heartbroken, though not for the reasons that her mother supposed. It had been over a week since her outrageous declaration to Mr. Clark. He had given her reason to believe he felt the same, but his stubborn resolution that “it would not do” had crushed her hopes and proved her fears. He had left her in a confused state, vulnerable from the emotions that always accompany a desired first kiss. She had waited to see if he would call on her in a few days, but he had not.

  Caroline at first felt angry, but by late Saturday evening, she felt nothing but sadness. What was infuriating to Caroline, however, was her mother’s awkward and tiresome attempts to “see what was the matter” with her. Caroline cringed at her leading questions, first about the latest social events and then her increasing specific questions about Lord Searly. Surely her mother should have seen that Caroline had much heavier ideas weighing on her mind.

  On Monday morning Lady Hopkins instructed Caroline to look her nicest and be on her best behavior, as Lord Searly was to call on them. Caroline had obeyed mechanically, inwardly dreading the prospect of seeing the duke. Still feeling confused by her meeting with Mr. Clark, Caroline had been in no state to consider her feelings for another.

  When Lord Searly had arrived, Lady Hopkins rose to the doorway before Caroline could even see the duke’s face.

  “My dear Lady Hopkins, how well you are looking.”

  Lady Hopkins smiled bashfully. “Lord Searly, you are too kind.”

  Caroline watched, unaffected, by the pair’s idle chatter. First they talked about the weather, then the grand duchess, and finally, Lady Hopkins had turned the conversation to Lucy’s wedding. It was not until Lord Searly glanced at his watch while tapping his foot softly that Lady Hopkins seemed to remember Caroline, who was seated beside her.

  “You must excuse me, Lord Searly. As much as I enjoy our conversations, I suppose you have not come to chat with an old married woman.” She smiled broadly, winking at the duke.

  Lord Searly politely laughed. “Oh, but I do love our conversations.” He cleared his throat, sitting a little taller. “But if I may, I would be most grateful for a moment to speak to Caroline alone.”

  “Of course,” Lady Hopkins said, stroking Caroline’s arm before leaving the small room.

  Caroline startled at the sound of the latch, feeling a wave of anxiety rush over her. She sat nervously, fidgeting with the book beside her. She ignored Lord Searly’s playful glance, and she made an attempt at seriousness. “I hope my mother has not taken too much of your time.”

  His smile faded as he moved closer. “I would not wish it any different, my love.”

  Surprised, Caroline’s eyes darted to the floor.

  “Have you had ample time to consider my offer of marriage?”

  His question felt forced, and Caroline almost laughed aloud as she responded, “Oh, is that what it was? As I recall you never actually offered for my hand. You asked if you should talk to my father. I had not the least notion of your meaning more than political dealings or the like.” She was teasing him, but only because of the bitterness she felt blossoming inside herself.

  Lord Searly smiled. He did not seem to notice the hint of anger that lingered in her tone. “Caroline, you know what I am about. I want to marry you. Will you be my wife?”

  Her heart began to beat faster. “I am indebted to you, Lord Searly, but I cannot give my consent as of yet.”

  He gave way to laughter. “I shall have to try again, yes?”

  “Yes, some other day perhaps, when I am recovered from the shock of everything.” She turned away from his intense scrutiny.

  “And perhaps some days after that offer, yes? Or shall I be compelled to wait longer? Caroline, I am not the most patient of men.”

  The room felt smaller all at once, as if the walls were coming down on her. Caroline felt the heat rising in her chest as she shrugged her shoulders.

  “Our marriage is expected, is it not?” He was kneeling beside her, as he ran his hands through his hair. His handsome gaze held hers, and he leaned toward her.

  “I suppose it is, but expectations do not frighten me,” she replied softly. “I cannot deny that I have considered it often. I feel indebted to you, Lord Searly.” Her voice drifted as she realized the insufficiency of her feelings. “I have considered the possibilities as of late, but I am not convinced we would suit one another.” She pushed herself off the chair, slinking away from his shocked and somewhat sick expression.

  He stood anxiously and paced a moment, shaking his head in disbelief. His smile widened as he followed her across the room. “You cannot be serious, Caroline. I disagree wholeheartedly. I think we suit each other perfectly. You are the only woman in the world that would ever stand up to me. And, I suppose I am just the man for you, for who else would spoil you as I could? I would not get in the way of anything you desired. Can you not see my desire to please you? Do you not see the regard I hold for you? I regret I have not expressed myself well. I am not influenced by expectations or anything of the sort. Rather, I am compelled to offer for your hand because of the affection, even passion, I feel for you. I believe I have never loved another as I love you.” His eyes were wide, and his confidence actually appeared to be shaken.

  Caroline felt the weight of his words. For a brief moment, she considered accepting his offer. If she could not marry Mr. Clark, perhaps it did not matter if she married for love at all. If only she was convinced Lord Searly truly loved her, she knew she could will herself to love him back. Yet, there was something missing in it all.

  Though Lord Searly professed love, Caroline did not believe it was, in fact, love. She exhaled quietly, finding her courage as she stepped forward to face him. “I admit it would do you good to have a wife that was not afraid to stand up to you, but you cannot think me equal to the task. I would tire of it.” She paused, sensing his pain, and slowly started again. “I have been spoiled my whole life. It has not done me good. If we were to marry, can you not see the disaster we would become? I would work for nothing and gain even less. And, I promise, you would not be happy. You would tire of the arguing. I cannot imagine you would be happy.”

  Lord Searly jerked backward, almost losing his balance.

  She realized she had caused him pain, but she could not deny the truth of her words. Caroline wondered if he had comprehended a word of her reply. She contemplated rewording it, when at last he broke the silence.

  “I cannot compel you to marry me, Caroline. I suppose I thought it so because I wished it so. I have never been refused anything in my life.” His shoulders stooped as he gave a soft chuckle. “Except for love. I chide myself now for thinking I could gain your favor. I should have known better.” He attempted at playfulness, but Caroline heard the crack in his voice. His eyes were cast down, and his lips trembled.

  Caroline grasped his arm in desperation. “Please, Lord Searly, you must understand. If I were convinced we could deal well together, I would not, in the least, utter a refusal that would cause you pain. But, as it is, I am convinced I shall not marry after all, or at least not for some time. My second season has been quite diverting and, somewhat exhausting, but I fear I have not yet found what I am looking for.”

  He listened, and for once, escaped his own self-pity long enough to clasp her hand in his. “I see we both have cast our eyes upon that which will never be ours.”

  Caroline froze, shocked by his perceptiveness. She opened her mouth to discredit him, but found herself stumbling over her words, and at last pulled her hand away, silently walking him to the foyer.

  “Farewell, Caroline,” Lord Searly said sadly. He took her hand and kissed it softly, bowing.

  Caroline curtsied, surprised to find a tear rolling down her cheek. She felt the finality of her words. “Goodbye, Lord Searly.”

  A

  The duke left determined to disguise his disappointment and confusion. For the second time, Lord Searly had been denied love. He fooled himself into believing he
had been unlucky, that he had done everything possible to secure his own happiness. His contemplation was, however, short-lived. For after mere hours of his rejection, irritation replaced confusion. Anger overcame his sadness, and pride consumed his humiliation. The idea that he did not know how to love never entered his narrow mind. The unfortunate girl had given up her chance of becoming a duchess. He pitied her for he imagined she would live to regret her decision almost immediately. He would, however, not make the mistake of offering for Caroline, or anyone else like her, again. Perhaps providence had spared him twice.

  A

  CHAPTER 33

  The excitement of Lucy’s upcoming wedding had overwhelmed the house, especially Lord Hopkins. Lady Hopkins had determined she would return to Whitefield Hall within the month for preparations, for Lucy would be married at the parish in Chelmsford. Lady Hopkins had only to attend to the wedding clothes and other purchases in town before the family’s departure. Lord Hopkins was pleased his wife now considered the match to be perfectly amiable. Mr. Frandsen was an agreeable sort of gentleman, and his success in attracting Lucy was the talk of the town. It was, of course, to be expected, for Lucy not only had a large fortune but was also beautiful and kind. Many said Lucy could have done better, but Lord Hopkins disagreed.

  It was three weeks later that Lord and Lady Hopkins learned of Caroline’s refusal to Lord Searly. Lord Hopkins had chuckled appreciatively on hearing the news, promising Caroline that she could do better. Lady Hopkins, on the other hand, had been in hysterics, declaring no man of consequence would desire a woman so conceited as to set her ambitions on a man of any higher standing than Lord Searly! Caroline had stood her ground, though solemnly, and dismissed her mother’s raging comments and pleadings for her to reconsider her refusal. It could not be undone, however, and Caroline refused to say more on the subject.

  It was in one of her more brooding moods that Lord Hopkins found his wife. He had been in the library searching for The Discourse on True Horsemanship, when he heard panicked sniffling. Lord Hopkins tiptoed his way toward the noise, at last discovering his wife sitting in the window seat. Her eyes were red from the crying, her nose pink. With one look at her husband, she threw herself across the seat, burying her head into a pillow.

  “Eleanor, what on earth are you about?” He asked, confused. He sat beside her and gently stroked her hair.

  Lady Hopkins pulled away from his touch. “I cannot stop thinking of what Caroline has done. She has thrown her future away, only to have the likes of fortune hunters and men of lesser means thrust upon her!” She buried her face in her hands, struggling to catch her breath.

  Lord Hopkins observed his wife’s frantic state. It seemed highly unwarranted. “You cannot be serious, my love. Caroline is quite capable of making an advantageous match. It is only her second season. She is not an old spinster yet! You speak of her as if she had made an unforgiveable mistake.”

  These words, however, seemed to do nothing to console Lady Hopkins’s crumpled spirits. She refused his embrace and stood, tearfully explaining, “You, Phillip, could never understand what it is like to be hunted for your fortune.”

  Lord Hopkins felt her implied criticism. He sighed, further attempting to soothe her. “But why must you think of that? I did not merely marry you for your fortune, and you can hardly expect a man to find Caroline’s fortune more attractive than Caroline herself, can you?”

  Lady Hopkins began howling dramatically, her body convulsing with each sob as she returned to the window seat. She grasped a pillow tightly, hiding her face.

  Lord Hopkins exhaled deeply and summoned his courage. “Eleanor, are you still upset with me? Have you not punished me long enough?”

  Lady Hopkins howled once more. She slowly sat up and blew her nose noisily. “You shall not deceive me any further. I have always tried to be a dutiful wife to you. I loved you quite instantly, as it was, Phillip, but you must own that you used me very badly.” She paused to let out a wail. “I found your compliments lost their sweetness and your touch lost its ardency once we were married. Admit it! You married me to save your estate.” She was trembling now as she ultimately admitted her fear. “I will not allow my daughters to spend a life such as I have.”

  Lord Hopkins’s heart broke as he listened to his wife’s regret of marrying him. He started to speak many times, but felt a loss at how to explain himself. At long last, he blurted, “Perhaps I was attracted to you for your fortune, but that was only at the beginning, and even then, I saw you as the most handsome girl I had ever met, but what followed is quite different. You have always been the most upstanding of wives. You have stood by my side, and I find that I am plagued with guilt—”

  “As well you should be!” interjected Lady Hopkins.

  “Yes, yes, I know dearest, but you must see that I am in love with you. I have been in love with you ever since the second ball we danced. My guilt has loomed over me these past twenty-six—”

  “Twenty-five years,” she corrected forcefully.

  “Twenty-five years. My guilt has loomed over me these past twenty-five years because I see now that I was so mistaken in courting you simply for your fortune at first. You, yourself, are worth more than any fortune you could have added to my estate. You have rescued a fallen estate, and more importantly, a fallen man. I cannot regret the actions of my youth, for they have brought me my greatest blessing—you, my Eleanor.”

  Lady Hopkins turned her head to the window, still sobbing.

  Lord Hopkins felt his blood begin to boil. His shoulders shook, and he slapped his hand down against the window seat. “Confound it, Eleanor! I have had enough. I have had enough of your moping and self-pity. Have I not given you a life you are proud of? Have we not seen our children grow, along with each other’s maturity and capabilities? I will not stand for you to sit here as if your life has been a waste! Has your life been so very unfulfilling as that?”

  At hearing him raise his voice, Lady Hopkins jumped slightly, shrinking to the corner of the window. Her crying had stopped, but she would not look at him.

  Lord Hopkins knew he had unraveled her. “Perhaps I should not speak so, but I cannot contain my feelings on this matter anymore. I did not marry you for your fortune at all. Yes, yes, I know my mother prided herself on her scheming and matchmaking. Her meddling was what brought us together at first, but can you honestly believe I would … ,” His voice trailed off, awaiting Lady Hopkins’s gaze. Her eyes darted up at him and then down again. Lord Hopkins found himself at last kneeling before her. “Do you not wonder why I was late that night, when the sour Cranston was about to declare himself to you?”

  Lady Hopkins finally held his gaze.

  “I was detained only because of my feelings. I dared not ask for your hand because it was what my mother had schemed, what she had told me I must do. And yet, I found I could not not ask because I could not risk losing you forever. I did not wish to deceive you. I would have gladly disclosed my family’s financial difficulties if I had been privy to all the unfortunate details. I only knew that if I—”

  He was interrupted by a hard slap across the face. His hand instinctively flew to his cheek, the inward sting much greater than anything physical.

  Lady Hopkins glared down at him. “How could you not tell me this all these years? I would not have cared then if I had known your situation. I was so in love. It would not have mattered if you were the son of a farmer.”

  The words had their effect. Lord Hopkins found emotion overcoming him. His eyes filled with tears, and his voice cracked as he explained, “The sting of regret is more than I can bear. There are so many things I should have told you then. I kept thinking if I just showed you, you would know I truly loved you. Alas, it had come to nothing, all my greatest efforts.”

  In an instant, Lady Hopkins cradled his head into her lap, stroking his hair with her delicate fingertips. Her tender touch, long forgotten to Lord Hopkins, filled him with the greatest sensation. He closed his eyes as she contin
ued stroking his hair, then his cheek. At last, he heard her clear her throat. “Phillip, I am so sorry for shutting you out. I would relive each year with you if I could.”

  Lord Hopkins sat up, seating himself beside her. He took her hand in his. “It is enough to hear you say so, Eleanor. I only need the rest of your years.”

  Lady Hopkins let out an incoherent whimper and gave his hand a tight squeeze.

  He found himself feeling young again, and all at once, Lord Hopkins carried Lady Hopkins into a close embrace and began kissing her feverishly. At first resistant, Lady Hopkins soon fell into his arms and gave way to his romantic attempts.

  “Lucy, I set the book just over here,” Caroline explained, making her way to the window.

  Lucy was on her tail, when Caroline stumbled backward in a startled fashion. The two sisters were caught in a laughing spell at discovering for the first time their parents in such a passionate kiss.

  “Girls, have I taught you nothing?” Lady Hopkins yelled, blushing profusely. “Have I not taught you that a closed door represents a want of privacy, of delicacy?” The reproach resulted in a moment of silence.

  All at once, Lord Hopkins and Caroline broke into hysterical laughter. Lord Hopkins began shaking so hard that his face had colored to a dark red, while Caroline had to resort to her handkerchief in order to catch her newly formed tears of laughter. Lucy attempted at seriousness, though her pursed lips threatened a smile. Lady Hopkins eventually gave in, and tears of joy now replaced her tears of sadness.

  A

  CHAPTER 34

  Caroline had not forgotten Mr. Clark’s rejection. She cursed under her breath when she recalled their embrace. It was not a lady’s responsibility to declare herself, nor was it considered appropriate. She felt her inferiority to the man on multiple levels. She had been mistaken in his degree of affection for her. At times, she would convince herself he was indeed in love with her, only to be consumed by the memory of his “It will not do.” That memory ultimately convinced her of the insufficiency of his feelings. And so it was in mortification that she declared to Lucy that she could not visit Mr. Clark’s shop.