“Who are you writing to, Caroline?” The Dowager Duchess looked at her. She was about to mumble some excuse when Madeleine said suddenly, “It’s mine, Your Grace.” Madeleine did not look at the Dowager Duchess, and she seemed to be shrinking.
“It’s my letter.”
Chapter 11
“Your letter?” The Dowager Duchess looked aghast.
“Yes, Your Grace.” Madeleine’s voice was muffled, with what Caroline could only presume were unshed tears.
“Why did you bring your letter out into the garden?” The Dowager Duchess asked quietly. As she spoke, she seemed to grow taller with the sheer indignation of the situation, while poor Madeleine was trembling with fear. Caroline was thinking rapidly.
I cannot believe she did this for me! But how on earth should I conciliate Her Grace?
“If I am not mistaken, you have used stationery from your mistress,” The Dowager Duchess said icily, “What else have you been stealing?”
“N-n-no, Your Grace… Never!” Madeleine finally looked up, her face covered with tears.
“I gave her the paper, Your Grace,” Caroline said, taking a step closer to her lady’s maid.
“She wished to write her mother, but did not have time to purchase more paper,” she added, holding her head raised high.
“Is that so?” The Dowager Duchess seemed to be considering Caroline’s word.
“I told her she ought to write while I painted.” Caroline continued, lowering her voice, “I did not wish anyone to observe me, I am much too clumsy with the brush.” Her aunt sighed softly, and finally, she shook her head.
“All right then,” The Dowager Duchess said, and Caroline breathed a sigh of relief when she noticed her aunt give her a small smile. “You!” The Dowager Duchess added to Madeleine, who jumped at her words, “Take your letter and help Lady Caroline change. We will leave soon.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Madeleine said with a deep curtsey. “Thank you, Your Grace.” Madeleine dropped to the floor and picked up the letter, along with the items she had dropped, putting the letter securely in her skirt pocket. Caroline began walking up the grand staircase, trying to calm her nervous heart.
She pushed open the door to the room, and sat down in the chaise lounge, feeling drained. Madeleine entered, her face still tear-streamed. “Thank you, Madeleine,” Caroline said gratefully.
“It was nothing, My Lady.” Madeleine placed the basket with the painting supplies on the floor. She approached Caroline and handed her the letter.
“How will I get this to Mr. Langley,” Caroline said thoughtfully.
“Perhaps I can help?” Madeleine rubbed away her tears and took a deep breath.
“I know Jimmy, the steward’s room boy, has a delivery for Mr. Yaxley today. I can ask him to take the letter.”
“We cannot do that,” Caroline exclaimed. “What if Mr. Yaxley finds out?”
“I trust Jimmy,” Madeleine said simply, before adding, “He will not betray me.” Caroline pondered her lady’s maid’s words. She did want to give Mr. Langley the letter as soon as possible but was nervous.
“You trust him?”
“With my life,” Madeleine replied earnestly.
“All right then, please ask him to deliver the letter,” Caroline said, handing Madeleine the letter again.
Jasper walked out of the courthouse, his blood boiling with rage.
How could this have happened?
Somehow Mr. Trembill had managed to procure a witness that swore that Lady Williams had paid him to write the fictitious will. Jasper had yelled his objections, but he could see that the judge had seemed convinced.
“Mr. Langley!” Mr. Holmes was trying to reach Jasper, his hands filled with papers yet again. “Mr. Langley, what will you do now?”
“We need to discredit this preposterous witness they brought forth.” Jasper did not slow down, leaving poor Mr. Holmes half-running beside him.
“How… How will you do that?” Mr. Holmes asked, out of breath.
“I don’t know,” Jasper replied, then added gravely, “Yet!”
For the next few hours, the two of them both sat immersed in books, only speaking occasionally when they had a thought, or read something that might prove useful. Jasper did not seem to be able to focus properly. He decided to take a walk in the hopes that it might help clear his mind.
He was about to step outside when he saw a letter that had been crammed under the door. He bent down to pick it up, and almost dropped it once he saw the familiar writing.
Lady Caroline!
He ripped the letter open and read hungrily. Her words felt like music… At once, he was there again, in the dark drawing room, holding her delicate hand in his.
Inhaling her scent, and fighting the urge to grab her and push against the wall. How he longed to breathe in her essence, and study her entire body with his hands and mouth. To kiss her supple lips, and whisper his heart’s deepest desires in her ears.
Jasper closed his eyes, trying to regain his composure. His heart swelled as the thought that Lady Caroline’s fingers had touched this very paper made his soul ache for her. Never before had he felt this way. But this was definitively not helping him clear his mind. He had to focus, he owed Lady Williams that much.
That’s when he noticed the lock of hair. She had given him a piece of her… He took the lock and laid it in the palm of his hand. Something shifted inside him. His arousal waned slightly, and instead, he felt as if his heart would explode. He loved her. It was quite simple.
He could not imagine his life without her, and the weight of his actions seemed more pivotal than before. Lady Caroline took a risk in writing this letter, and Lord knows how she managed to get it here. He needed to see her soon.
Distracted, Jasper returned up the stairs and entered the office once more. “That was quick,” Mr. Holmes said, looking up from the tome on his desk.
“Yes,” Jasper said distractedly, “I didn’t fancy a walk anymore.”
“Right,” Mr. Holmes said his browed furrowed.
“Is everything all right?” Jasper asked.
“I was just thinking.” Mr. Holmes began, “If we can prove that Mr. Trembill lied, that his witness is a liar, the judge will have to accept that the will is genuine?”
“One would think,” Jasper replied. “But we will need an iron-clad proof that the witness did, in fact, lie, something that Mr. Trembill will not be able to dismiss.”
“I think I have an idea.” Mr. Holmes looked nervous.
“What is it?”
“I’m afraid you might not like it.” Mr. Holmes stood up. “An acquaintance of my father is a, well, let’s just say that he has never been on the right side of the law. He has his way of obtaining information.”
“I’m guessing this is for a substantial fee?” Jasper asked.
“Yes,” Mr. Holmes said simply.
“We should not stoop to our opponent’s level,” Jasper said. “Although, I do think that Mr. Trembill is counting on us relying solely on the facts. However, we must stand on the side of righteousness.”
“You’re right,” Mr. Holmes said.
“But I promise you this, if Mr. Trembill pulls another trick like this, we will have to get our hands dirty.”
“Very well, sir.” Mr. Holmes chuckled softly and sat again.
Caroline sat next to her aunt in the barouche. They were on their way to the milliner’s, and she felt alert and anxious. Earlier, Madeleine had slipped down to the servant’s floor to give Jimmy the letter. When Caroline had walked down the stairs, she nervously looked around for Mr. Yaxley, the steward, waiting to see if he was holding her letter.
But everything seemed to be working out. Madeleine had appeared again at the carriage, with rather rosy cheeks, Caroline thought. “Will you have the milliner make you a new hat, Your Grace?” Caroline asked her aunt.
“Oh, I think not, dear.” The Dowager Duchess patted Caroline’s hand.
“You should,” Car
oline said encouragingly.
“Well, if I see something that grabs my attention, I will perhaps get one hat,” the Dowager Duchess replied.
“I am glad, Your Grace.” Caroline looked out the window and tried to gather her senses. If her aunt would be trying on hats, she might be able to slip out without her noticing. Although it was terribly risky. But she had to get more information.
They arrived at the small hat shop, and Caroline tried her hardest to feign interest in all the different samples and materials. She tried on different hats, and her aunt seemed most pleased. After about an hour, Caroline had chosen a few different designs.
“I think this one here would be lovely on you, Your Grace,” Caroline said, gesturing to a hat in a display box at the back. It had artificial flowers and fruits, which would be perfect for a summer picnic.
“I quite agree, My Lady,” the milliner said sycophantically, and turned to the Dowager Duchess. “Would Her Grace like to try it on?”
“Yes, I will try that one.” The Dowager Duchess commanded, turning away from Caroline, who sighed in relief, very quietly.
“I wonder if there is a place where I could sit down,” she said to the milliner. “I’m rather exhausted.” As she hoped, the shop owner leaped forward and guided her toward a cushioned chair at the end of the shop. In no time at all, the Dowager Duchess had begun discussing the different types of hats she needed.
“We have to go, now,” Caroline said to Madeleine after accepting tea from a shop assistant. If she was not mistaken, the address on the note from Lady Anna was very close by. She stepped outside and peered inside the shop window. Her aunt was intensely focused on her own reflection, and no one seemed to be paying Caroline any attention.
“This way.” Caroline hurried down the street, closely followed by Madeleine. She pulled out the address and looked around for the house number. This was much further away than she had anticipated. They were getting too far away from the shop. Caroline was about to return when Madeleine grabbed her arm.
“Look, My Lady,” Madeleine said, pointing to a house on the other side of the road. Without hesitation, Caroline strode across the street and pulled back the knocker. After a short while, the door opened, and the woman who stood in the doorway stared at her. Caroline did not know what to say. Finally, the other woman muttered, shocked.
“Lady Caroline? What are you doing here?”
Chapter 12
“Emma,” Caroline said softly. Even though she knew her former lady’s maid lived there, seeing her was a shock.
“You cannot be here, My Lady,” Emma said apprehensively, looking up and down the street.
“Emma, we must speak—” Caroline began, but Emma cut her off.
“I beg you, My Lady, it’s not safe.” Emma pleaded, shaking her head.
“Why isn’t it safe?” Caroline asked. “Please, I need answers.”
“If someone sees you here, it could mean terrible trouble,” Emma said, pushing the door forward.
“Emma!” Caroline cried, but too late. Emma had shut the door and locked it, by the sounds of it.
“We should go back, My Lady,” Madeleine said.
“You’re right,” Caroline replied dejectedly. The two of them hurried back. Just before they turned down the street where the hat shop was, Caroline turned around for another glance at Emma’s house. The curtains swung to the side, as a retreating figure moved out of sight.
Very softly, she opened the door to the milliner again, tiptoeing inside. To her horror, she could not hear her aunt’s voice. She looked further inside the shop and realized it was empty.
“Where are they?” Caroline muttered, her heart thumping, and her nerves were on end.
“I don’t know, My Lady,” Madeleine replied. “Sit down, I will have a look.” Madeleine picked up the cup of tea the shop assistant had brought earlier, and dumped the contents into a flower vase that stood on the small table by the cushioned chair. She walked to the back, leaving Caroline alone.
Oh, dear Lord. What if Her Grace noticed my absence? I will be banned from leaving the house, I’m sure.
She closed her eyes, silently chiding herself. She had been too sure of herself, that she would always get away with her insubordination.
How could I have been so stupid?
Just when all hope was about to leave her, Madeleine returned, holding a cup of steaming tea in her hands. To her surprise, Madeleine was grinning.
“Her Grace wished to see the latest sketches from Paris,” Madeleine whispered. “The milliner is standing with her at the back of the shop, no assistants are allowed inside. They told me when I came to ask for more tea.”
“She never noticed I’d gone?” Caroline stated.
“No,” Madeleine replied. “The shop assistant says the milliner is very protective of the sketches and usually does not allow patrons to see all of them.”
“Her Grace can be rather persuading,” she finished with a chortle. She sat back in the chair and sipped on her tea, allowing her heart to calm down.
“Oui.” Madeleine nodded.
Caroline sat and drank for a little while until the familiar commanding voice of her aunt could be heard again.
“Now, I want this ready as soon as possible,” the Dowager Duchess said to the hat maker that cowered next to her.
“Of course, Your Grace.”
“Caroline!” The Dowager Duchess called. She stood up and approached her aunt.
“Yes, Your Grace,” she replied politely.
“It’s getting far too late. We should head back.”
“Certainly.” She followed her aunt out of the shop, thanking the milliner for her help.
All the way back to Brighney Manor, Caroline made sure to keep her aunt engaged in a conversation about the hats they had just tried, as she wanted to keep Her Grace unsuspecting of any unladylike activities of hers. She needed to find a way to speak with Emma. But she could not for the life of her figure out how. It was clear that she could not go to that house again.
During dinner that night, Caroline listened without really paying attention to her father and her aunt. She was desperately tired and longed for her bed.
“I will be at court for the greater part of tomorrow,” Lord Brighney said, before sipping his wine.
“You will miss seeing your daughter before the ball,” the Dowager Duchess scoffed.
“I’m sure you will look absolutely lovely, poppet,” he said, giving Caroline an affectionate smile.
“I am going to send word for young Mr. Langley to pop by here tomorrow,” he continued absentmindedly. Caroline’s heart skipped a beat at the name. She looked up, much too quickly, which caused her aunt to look at her with a raised eyebrow. In order to try and save face, she reached forward and grabbed a bread roll from a basket in front of her.
“Should he not meet you at court?” The Dowager Duchess asked.
“I will finish my notes on the case we are working on tonight, perhaps even tomorrow morning,” her father replied.
“I do hope you are not overexerting yourself, My Lord,” Caroline said.
“No, no, my dear.” he chuckled. “Having Mr. Langley around is proving most useful. He is an industrious and terribly clever chap.”
“How nice,” Caroline said, making sure not to smile too widely. “I’m glad to hear.”
He will be here again tomorrow. I must see him, no matter what else happens.
The following morning was a hectic one at Brighney Manor. Although the ball wasn’t until late that evening, the Dowager Duchess demanded that Caroline try on at least three different gowns that had recently arrived after her latest fitting. Although she was quite certain that the first one she tried on would be the one she would wear, her aunt made her prance about and show off the other two gowns.
This was particularly tedious as all three gowns had different corsets, although Caroline could not understand why—they all felt equally uncomfortable, in her opinion.
“Almost
there, My Lady,” Madeleine said as she pulled hard on the corset straps.
“Oh, I can’t breathe.” Caroline gasped.
“There!” Madeleine tied a neat bow and stepped away from the mirror and grabbed the last gown. It was a lilac one, with very delicate lace over the skirt, which created a rather attractive shimmer when she moved. “Mon Dieu, you look lovely, My Lady.”
Caroline moved to take a closer look. It was rather pretty, she had to admit. “Come on, then, let’s show Her Grace this one.” Caroline walked out of the room and into the drawing room where her aunt was having tea.
For the Lust of a Rogue: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 8