by Dawn Brower
He nodded in response, though he looked far from happy, and Emma was certain her heart would rip in two. Blast Arch and blast Lord Darling for engaging in something so reckless and for putting her in such an unwinnable position with Captain Gates.
By the time Cara awoke, the late afternoon sun was already spilling in through her windows. She was stiff all over and sore. Her wrist pulsed and her head ached. She might have slept one day or five. She was so groggy, she wasn’t sure how long it had been, especially as she was more than parched.
She pushed up on her good arm and then rubbed the sleep from her eyes. For a moment she wasn’t certain where she was, and then the night before came rushing back all at once. The ache was only slightly duller than it had been before she’d fallen asleep, but it was duller; and that was preferred to it being more acute.
Cara pushed back the counterpane and slid off the side of the bed to her feet. She rang for a maid and then caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror across the chamber. She padded across the rug to see herself more clearly. Her bottom lip was clearly swollen, but other than that telltale sign, no one else would know from looking at her what had transpired the night before. She took a steadying breath, relieved for that bit of luck.
After Emma’s maid helped her dress for the day, the girl then helped Cara tie a triangle of cloth around her neck that Doctor Hammond had left the night before. The sling was supposed to keep her wrist at the right angle so it could heal properly over the next few days. Still it was odd not to have the use of her arm all of a sudden. Wearing it would definitely take some getting used to. Just as that thought entered her mind, Cara’s stomach rumbled slightly. Goodness, she hadn’t eaten anything since the night before. She’d need to get something in her belly. Even a bit of toast and tea would probably do wonders for her spirits.
So she thanked Emma’s maid for her assistance and then stepped from her chambers. But just as she entered the corridor, a bit of panic gripped her heart. What if she stumbled upon Lord Chopwell again but she was all alone? Goodness, she just should have asked Emma’s maid to deliver a tray to her room instead of trekking out on her own.
But that was…Well, it was quite ridiculous. Cara couldn’t live in fear the rest of her life that villains were ready to pop out from behind any given corner. She’d managed twenty years without encountering any situations like she had last night. Certainly, she could manage to make her way to the breakfast room without incident. So with that thought in mind, Cara started down the corridor at a respectable pace, determined to go on as she always had. However it wasn’t long before those awful thoughts began to creep around the edges of her mind again, and Cara hastened her step down the flight of stairs in the hopes of seeing someone. Anyone.
Reese.
Where was Reese? She did one whole turn at the bottom of the steps, expecting to find him somewhere; but he wasn’t there. No one seemed to be about, actually. Of course, they were probably all at the fair, enjoying themselves. That was comforting, she supposed. Unless…she needed help and there was no one about to offer it.
Her pulse began to pound and her breath was a little short as she started, quite quickly, toward the breakfast room. Perhaps she was fortunate and someone else had slept as late as she had. Possibly. If Doctor Hammond had given them a dosage of laudanum too. It was no matter. Even if no one else was there, she’d find some tea and—
Lucien Gates nearly ran right into her as he rounded a corner.
“Oh, Cara!” he said and offered a hand to steady her. But then his eyes rounded in surprise when he noticed her arm in a sling. “What the devil?”
Goodness! She hadn’t even thought about what to tell people when they asked about her injury. “Sprained my wrist,” she said evenly.
“Good God. How did you do that?”
She didn’t want to tell anyone the truth of that. But it was Lucien. He wasn’t just anyone, he was almost like family. Or at least as close as she had in England. “By being foolish and trusting the wrong fellow.” Then she shook her head. “But I’d really rather not discuss it here, if you don’t mind. I am quite hungry, at the moment.”
“The wrong fellow?” Lucien fell into step beside her. “Tell me Darling didn’t…”
Reese? Cara scoffed, even if it wasn’t particularly ladylike. “No, of course not. He, actually…”
“He actually what…?” Lucien’s cane echoed off the marble floor.
“Well—” Cara’s cheeks began to burn when she remembered yelling at Reese the night before. She owed him her thanks not her anger. He wasn’t responsible for Lord Chopwell, and if he hadn’t found her when he had… “He rescued me.”
“Did he, indeed?” He cast her a look she couldn’t quite identify, a mix of confusion and ire. “Tell me, are you familiar with Lord Michael Beck?”
Cara had never heard the man’s name before and she shook her head. “Who is he?”
“A relation to one of your dinner companions last night,” Lucien said slowly as though he was working something out in his mind.
Heavens! One of her dinner companions? Did he mean Lord Chopwell? Cara’s pulse began to pound once more, but Lucien sent her a warm smile a moment later. “Interesting fellow. Went into trade a few years back. If you get a chance to meet him, he’s turned out to be a savvy businessman. Reminds me of your father in a number of ways.”
Like Papa? Then Lord Michael must be a remarkable man. Cara breathed a little easier as they reached the breakfast room. “I’ll make a point of meeting him if I get the chance, then.”
The army captain nodded, though there was something going on in his mind. “See that you do.”
Cara dropped into a chair and gestured to a footman for some tea, and she was glad when Lucien assumed the spot beside her. “Have you been to the fair today?”
“Not yet.” He gestured for a bit of tea for himself as the footman disappeared into a service room. “I think I may have had all the fair I can stand for the next twelve months.”
He had changed so much from when they were younger. “Where is that young, adventurous fellow who made it his mission to climb the tallest trees he could find at any given moment?”
“Got shot in the leg at Quatre Bras,” Lucien replied as the footman returned to the breakfast room with a silver tea service. “Makes it very difficult to climb trees. Even walking can be a chore some days.”
Which did explain his general grumpiness of late, as did the fact that he’d recently lost his fiancée. How was she going to break that same news to Cait? Cara pushed that thought from her head for the time being. After all, there was nothing she could do for Cait at the moment, but Lucien… “You should go up in that pleasure wheel, then. Get your fill from being so high in the air again.”
He laughed at that, then he took pity on Cara’s bandaged arm and poured both of them a bit of tea. “Only if you go with me.”
Not for all the tax-free salt in the Turks Islands. What an insane death trap that thing was. “I don’t think Doctor Hammond would want me doing so with my wrist,” she hedged.
“Ah,” Lucien agreed with a nod as he lifted his teacup to his lips. “I knew you’d find some way to weasel out.”
It was Cara’s turn to laugh. “Why don’t you go with Lord Darling? He didn’t get a chance to go up yesterday, and I think he would have liked to.”
But Lucien didn’t reply, he just frowned a bit into his tea, which was odd. Something was going on, something he wasn’t saying.
“What is it?” Cara asked. “What’s wrong?”
Lucien shook his head. “Nothing. I thought you knew, was all.”
“Knew what?”
“Darling’s returned to London.”
And with those words a bit of Cara’s heart crumbled into dust. He’d left. He’d left her in Essex. “London?” she breathed out.
“First thing this morning,” Lucien confirmed.
Well, what had Cara expected? Reese never had any real interest in her. Every b
it of charm he’d used had been designed to make her fall in love with him, and when he found out she was onto his game…Well, then, he clearly didn’t have the desire to play it any longer. The truth of that shouldn’t have hurt her. She’d known from the very beginning what he was about; but it did hurt just the same, because she’d foolishly hoped for more.
Later that evening…
As soon as the gentlemen rejoined the ladies in the drawing room after port, Emma’s gaze locked with Captain Gates’. He had a rather determined look about him, and Emma couldn’t help but gulp.
“Tomorrow I’m sure I’ll feel more like myself,” Cara promised, and Emma pulled her gaze back from Captain Gates to smile at her friend.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to Cara. If you want to stay at the Park tomorrow, I’ll be happy to sit with you and—”
But Cara shook her head. “I am determined to be myself again. I have too many people depending upon me to do otherwise. I cannot fall apart when they need me most.”
A dark shadow fell across the two of them, and Emma glanced up to find Captain Gates’ brown eyes focused quite intently on her. Goodness! The intensity she saw reflected upon her nearly stole her breath away.
“Miss Atherton, might I persuade you to take a turn about the room with me?”
Emma gulped, even as she saw Cara’s countenance brighten from the corner of her eye; but Emma shook her head. “I’d hate to leave Miss Beckett all alone, Captain.”
“Oh, do go, Emma!” Cara urged. “I will be perfectly fine, spending a bit of time by myself.”
“There.” Captain Gates’ brow lifted, as though daring Emma to find another excuse to evade him. “We won’t be long, Miss Atherton.” Then he offered his arm to her.
Emma’s heart raced and her pulse pounded. How often had she longed for Captain Gates’ attention? She cast Cara a sidelong glance to find a genuine smile upon her friend’s face for the first time that day. So Emma took a deep, steadying breath and then offered a smile of her own to the army captain. “It would be my pleasure.”
She took his proffered arm and somehow kept her knees from buckling beneath her. She was on Captain Gates’ arm like she’d always wanted to be, and he’d sought her out. He directed her toward the other side of the drawing room, which was fairly secluded. It was almost like a dream come—
“What did Chopwell do to her?” he asked, both breaking Emma from her thoughts and dashing her glee in one fell swoop. He wasn’t interested in her company, he just wanted information from her. That was more than lowering.
“I—I beg your pardon?” she stammered as they came to a halt, near a corner and away from the rest of the group.
“Last night at dinner, Cara Beckett was seated beside Lord Chopwell—”
Something Emma still felt guilty about. If she hadn’t placed Cara in that particular spot—
“—neither of them made their way to the drawing room last night, though I understand Darling did and made a bit of a scene—”
When the earl had told the entire drawing room full of ladies that he didn’t have any sort of interest in any of them. “I wouldn’t call it a scene.”
“Then this morning he headed back to London as did your brother to meet with Lord Michael Beck, a relation of Chopwell’s, as I’m sure you’re aware.”
Emma gulped again. He’d put all of that together? He hadn’t even been witness to any of the events last night like Emma had been. “Brothers-in-law,” she agreed, because it was the truth.
“Chopwell departed Hadleigh last night, and I can only assume he’s also headed to London. I would be a fool not to think that he did something to Miss Beckett which caused Darling to call the man out.”
Lucien Gates was not a fool. He’d wasted his time in the army. With as astute as he was, he should have been an agent of the Home Office.
“As Miss Beckett is an old friend of my family’s, so much so that my grandparents might as well have adopted her, I think I am entitled to know what transpired last evening. I am nearly her cousin, after all.”
And while that might be true, Captain Gates wasn’t Cara’s cousin in the real sense. If her friend wanted to divulge to the captain what had occurred between her and Lord Chopwell the night before, that was entirely up to her to do so. Emma took a deep breath. “I’m sure you can appreciate the position I’m in, Captain. I can neither confirm nor deny anything you just said—”
“Except that Chopwell and Lord Michael are brothers-in-law?” he asked a little curtly.
“Well, that is a matter of record,” Emma replied. “But the rest of it…” Before she could say more, Emma noticed Cara was just a few feet away. She must have followed after them and have overheard their conversation because she appeared quite upset. Her face drained of its color and the smile she’d sported just a few minutes before was nowhere to be found. “Cara,” she began, and started toward her friend.
As she reached her, Cara breathed out, “Lord Darling challenged Lord Chopwell to a duel?”
Emma shrugged. “I don’t know for certain. But I do suspect that’s the truth.”
“Cara, sweetheart,” Captain Gates began as he closed the distance between them. “Tell me what happened last night. Tell me why Darling would go to such lengths.”
And then it hit Emma. He wasn’t concerned about Cara in a cousinly fashion at all. Each and every one of his questions, all of his determination to discover the truth…He’d fallen for Cara himself. Emma thought her heart might break in two.
“So you can do something equally rash, Lucien?” Cara asked as she shook her head. “I think I’d like to retire for the evening.”
Chapter 12
DAY FIVE
Miss Beckett’s Guest Chambers, Atherton Park
Hadleigh, Essex
Cara had tossed and turned the entire night. Possibly because she’d slept for most of the previous day, but probably because she couldn’t get thoughts of Reese from her mind. Why had he challenged that despicable Lord Chopwell? Was it because he would defend any woman’s honor who’d been treated in such a way? Or was it because he actually did care for her? Was that even a possibility?
And what if Lord Chopwell cheated somehow? Or was better with a dueling pistol? What if Reese died defending her honor? She’d never get over that, not for as long as she lived. She loved…
Cara shook her head. She didn’t love him. She’d liked him a great deal. She’d loved Henry. Brave, adventurous Henry who’d been a man of few words, but he hadn’t needed them. She could tell what he was thinking whenever he looked at her. He was honest and true and noble.
Reese was completely different. With his silver tongue and easy charm, she had no idea what was really going on in his mind. There were moments she thought he’d cared for her, that there might be something between then; but other times when she wasn’t certain at all if he was playing a game with her. But if it was all just a game to him, why would he challenge Lord Chopwell even after he became aware that she knew all about his wager? Was it to assuage any guilt he might harbor? Or was it because he truly did care for her?
Blast it all, she had an entire day left in Hadleigh before Emma and her family would return to London. One more day at a fair that she wished she’d never attended.
One more day without knowing what was going on in London. Had the duel already taken place? And if so, what had been the outcome? Please, please, please don’t let Reese be injured. And please don’t let him be dead.
That same evening…
Whites Club
St. James Street, London
“Well, damn it all,” Reese muttered as he eyed the article in the Times a bit closer. He’d hoped to distract himself, and that article had certainly done the trick. Byron had actually fled England, had he? Reese supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised by that. Flowery words aside, no man could truly escape the scandal of divorce and rumored incest, not even Byron who, until now, had always gotten away with anything and ev
erything.
A hand landed on his shoulder and Reese glanced backward to find Lord Daniel Westham grinning down at him like a cat that ate the cream. The jackass. “Here you are.”
Reese resisted the urge to scowl as he was not in the mood to deal with Westham, not tonight anyway, not when he was just a few hours away from facing Chopwell at Green Park. “Does that mean you were looking for me?”
“Indeed.” His friend agreed with a nod. “You didn’t honestly think that cryptic note you sent me yesterday would do, did you?”
“No, I thought the bank draft would do.” Reese blew out an irritated breath. “As that is all I owe you.”
The jackass navigated his way around Reese’s chair and dropped into the one across from him, still grinning from ear to ear. “Come now, don’t be a spoilsport. You had the girl wrapped so neatly around your little finger. I was convinced she was half-way in love with you that first night at the Loxtons’. Whatever did you do to make her cast you aside?”
Had Cara been half-way in love with him then? Reese had been rather charming that night. When had it all changed? And when exactly had she found out about him and that ridiculous wager? It must have been Emma Atherton. It had to have been Arch’s prissy sister. After all, everything had been perfectly fine until they’d headed to that damned fair a few days ago.
No.
Now, he was lying to himself.
Things hadn’t been perfectly fine. He’d been playing with her, until…Well, until he’d thought better of it. But by then the whole thing was too late. However, he wasn’t going to discuss any of that with Westham. He could go hang. “Go annoy someone else. I’m waiting for Atherton.”
“There’s that charm you’re known for.” Westham laughed. “Is that what ruined things with Miss Beckett? She saw beneath that polished exterior of yours, did she?”