There was something about the quiet way she said it and the half-defiant, half-pleading look in the big gray eyes that touched him. His heart went out to her. Lord knows, few enough people gave his ideas the least respect, and he was a peer of the realm. How difficult it must be for her to win any sort of acknowledgment, either from her sex, who mistrusted someone of her interests and intellect, or from his, who mistrusted her sex. Realizing this, the marquess resolved that he, at least, was bound and determined to respect and encourage all of her intellect, her wit, and her courage. Before he was through, he intended that others would too.
Nicholas smiled tenderly down at her. “Would that we could have you in Parliament, Lady Caroline. The country has need of such as you. Unfortunately, I cannot even make my fellow peers vote as they should, much less influence them to accept a woman in their midst, but I can invite you to hear the debates and perhaps counsel me as to how I should vote on various issues. Could I interest you in allowing me to escort you tomorrow? There is to be evidence given on expenditures on the poor by the high bailiff of Birmingham—a topic which should interest you exceedingly, I am sure.”
Caro was speechless for a moment, overwhelmed by a rush of emotion such as she had never before experienced. It was such a mixture of emotions that she was left bewildered as to their causes and astounded at their intensity. Though she was always concerned for the welfare of her a. fellow creatures, and did her utmost to remain sensitive to the needs of those around her, ordinarily she remained personally unaffected by them. It was true that she and Helena enjoyed a rewarding friendship, but it was a companionship built on mutual respect for each other’s intelligence. With the marquess, that respect, though in its infancy, was there. But there was something else besides, which she had only barely sensed before but that now struck her full force. He cared about her. He truly appreciated who she, Lady Caroline Waverly, was, what she believed in, what she was trying to do, and he was not only letting her know that he recognized and valued that, he was offering to help her realize those ideals. No one, perhaps with the exception of her beloved father, had offered her such help and understanding before and the effect of it was unnerving to say the least. Caro had spent so much of her life looking after others that she was slightly taken aback at being looked after by someone else.
With an enormous effort, she gathered her wits about her enough to reply tremulously, “Th . . . thank you. How very kind you are. I should like it above all things.” When she finally had the courage to look up at him, she wished she hadn’t. There was a smile in the deep-blue eyes that gazed down into hers, but there was something more—a special light—an intensity that she found faintly disturbing. Suddenly shy and unsure of herself, she glanced quickly away to where the boys and Tony were engaged in earnest discussion of the various bits of horseflesh on display. Tony was pointing to a flank here, a neck there, while his companions listened with open-mouthed attention. “Well, I must be going. I promised Lavvy I would have the boys back in time for their lessons.” Caro gathered her reins and prepared to depart in her usual precipitous manner, but as Xerxes pricked up his ears and headed eagerly towards the boys, she could not help turning around to whisper shyly, “And thank you again,” leaving Nicholas to remark to himself once again that though this adieu was abrupt as far as adieux went, it was far less so than was customary where Lady Caroline Waverly was concerned.
The marquess smiled to himself. The sudden shyness had not been lost on Nicholas and it had both amused and gratified him—amused him to see that the coolly self-possessed Lady Caroline was not immune to less intellectual emotions, and gratified him because he felt that it was precisely because she trusted him intellectually that she had allowed herself to let her emotional guard down. After all, it was a rather lowering thing to have beautiful women constantly throwing themselves at your head while the truly intelligent ones appeared to be no more moved by your presence than they were by their other companions. Stop it, Nicky, my lad, you will be in a fair way of turning into an insufferable coxcomb if you continue to think of yourself as being irresistible to the female sex. But that was just the point. He didn’t consider himself irresistible. It was just his position and his wealth that were. And now, when someone to whom these attributes were as meaningless as they were to him seemed to be affected by him—well, it did give a fellow pause. Nicholas began to wonder if he had perhaps been in the ton too long and was beginning to adopt its exaggerated opinion of him as a highly eligible bachelor. But no. The marquess grinned, remembering the delicate blush stealing up the slender neck and the confusion in the gray eyes as they had looked up into his. So he made Caro uneasy did he? Well, good! She had been intruding into his thoughts far too often herself and the unsettling vision of her slender figure attired in breeches was upsetting his peace of mind more than he cared for--which was to say, more than once since their encounter in the stableyard.
A tug on the reins broke into these disturbing reflections. Caesar, never the most patient of mounts, was becoming restive and was making it plain that he did not take kindly to this dullness on the part of his master. Nicholas came to with a start. “Very well, Caesar, it is time for us to be gone. Are you ready, Clary?”
It was fortunate for the marquess’s already distracted state of mind that he did not notice the look of amused satisfaction on his sister’s face. Ever an interested onlooker. Clary had been delighted to observe both the frown that clouded her brother’s brow at Caro’s hasty departure and the look of tender bemusement that followed it. She could not refrain from giving herself a secret congratulatory hug for her part in it all. “Well done. Clary,” she whispered to herself as she turned her horse toward Berkeley Square, and in truth, she did feel as though she had done a good day’s work.
Chapter 20
In fact, not only was the marquess unaware of his sister’s efforts where he was concerned, in the ensuing days he was less than his usual perspicacious self. Now that Nicholas was uncomfortably aware of just how often Caro occupied his thoughts, he was not able to put her out of them any more successfully than he had before this revelation. In fact, she was present in them more than ever and he was chiding himself severely for this as well as for the pleasurable feeling of anticipation as he mounted the steps of Welham House the next morning. By now Wigmore had abandoned all hope that his disapproving expression would encourage the marquess to confine his visits to a more fashionable hour, one that was more acceptable to the countess, and he greeted Nicholas with an impassive stare. If possible, his demeanor became more rigidly correct when he discovered that it was not Lavinia for whom the marquess was inquiring and there was a distinctly frosty note in his voice as, conducting the visitor to the drawing room, he promised to send someone to alert Lady Caroline as to his lordship’s presence.
“Certainly, you wouldn’t compromise your dignity so much as to do it yourself, you starched-up old Cerberus,” Nicholas muttered to himself as he searched among Lavvy’s elaborate furnishings for a chair that did not look likely to collapse under his weight. He had just selected a sort of stool that appeared to stand upon both claws and talons while supporting a fairly sturdy-looking seat on folded wings, when he heard a light, quick step in the doorway.
The welcoming smile died on his lips as he glanced up to see not Caro but a fresh-faced attractive girl shyly approaching him. Nicholas looked again. The cautiousness that he at first had ascribed to timidity was belied by the observant brown eyes and he realized, to his amusement, that he was being carefully assessed by a highly critical young person. She stood so quietly that he wondered, in an unusual moment of self-consciousness, if he were found to be wanting.
“Lady Caroline is not here, sir.” The voice was low and pleasant.
“Not here? But ...”
“She asked me to extend her apologies and to beg your forgiveness but there were”—Susan wrinkled her brow as she sought to remember her mistress’s precise words— “there were extenuating circumstances.”
“But she wouldn’t have missed this for the world. She was that excited about going to Parliament,” Susan hastened to assure him. Though her beloved Lady Caroline deserved the best, Susan had hardly dared hope for such an out-and-outer for her ladyship. The marquess was extremely handsome with a muscular physique, black hair, and those deep-blue eyes now crinkling at her in an encouraging fashion. The little maid was determined to do her utmost to advance her mistress’s cause with this truly splendid gentleman. “Well, you know how she is, sir, tenderhearted to a fault.” There, that should set her apart from the countess who, if the rumors belowstairs were anything to go by, had designs upon his lordship. “And when Argos turned up missing, she was so distressed for the young masters that she would find him before they were through with their lessons, which I hope she can do soon,” she finished, catching a glimpse of the clock on the mantel.
“Perhaps your mistress is in need of assistance,” he ventured.
“That she is, sir.” Convinced that the marquess was a right one and someone worthy of Lady Caroline, Susan bestowed a dazzlingly grateful smile on him. “She is as clever as they come and will stop at nothing, but that dog, though he usually hides in the stables, could be anywhere and she is all alone. The rest of the staff is kept too busy by the countess to be able to spend any time looking for Argos, whom her ladyship doesn’t like above half anyway.” And that should fix that, Susan concluded triumphantly to herself as the marquess hurried off in the direction of the mews behind Welham House.
He did not have to go far before he heard Caro’s encouraging tones issuing from a loft above Xerxes’s stall. “Relax, Argos. I shall have you out of here in a trice. To be sure, you were very clever to climb the ladder, but however did you propose to come back down?”
Nicholas reached the door as Caro, clutching a much subdued Argos, was descending a less than sturdy ladder. “Here, hand him to me.” He hurried over to grab the ladder with one hand while reaching up with the other.
“Oh, dear.” Caro turned to smile ruefully down at him. “You must think I spend most of my time here in the stables indulging in odd behavior, but truly there was nothing for it but to find him and assure him that he was not to be cast out in the streets for thoroughly dismembering the underhousemaid’s feather duster. Mrs. Blethersop is not one of Argos’s admirers and she can be rather hard on him. There. Thank you.” Caro hopped down from the last rung and accepted the disheveled little dog, who licked her gratefully.
The marquess smiled down at her as the pink tongue licked across a cheek. “You seem to have encountered a few cobwebs in your rescue mission.” He whipped out a clean handkerchief to wipe a smudge off her cheek only to pause as he tilted up the firm little chin and encountered the wide gray eyes looking trustfully up at him. There was something about her as she stood there, flushed from her exertions, the scent of rosewater rising from the dark hair, which had escaped here and there to curl softly around her face, that made him want to pull her into his arms and kiss the generous half-parted lips. Nicholas stood transfixed by the suddenness and intensity of the unexpected impulse and might have done so forever if Argos, his nose full of straw dust, had not taken the opportunity to sneeze violently several times.
The marquess came to with a start. Kiss Lady Caroline? He must be all about in the head! Why, that woman didn’t appear to have the least use for men, much less for any sort of dalliance with one. He sighed, ft was a pity really for she did look utterly enchanting clutching the dirty little dog, bits of straw clinging to the hem of her dress and the smudge of dust emphasizing the purity of her complexion. Gathering his scattered wits about him, he dabbed again gently at the dirty spot and delicately removed a few wisps of straw from the silky dark hair. “There. Once you have shaken out your skirts you ought to be able to return to the house with no one the wiser.”
Caro looked up guiltily. “How did you know I wished to remain undiscovered?”
Nicholas grinned. “Years of surreptitious behavior on my own part has taught me to recognize it in others. Never fear, I shan’t betray you, though, in return for keeping your confidence, I shall insist on your keeping your original promise to accompany me to the discussion of the poor laws.”
“Still?” Caro could not hide her surprise.
“But, of course. I feel reasonably certain that you are not one of those females who must needs spend hours to repair their toilette and that you can be ready to join me momentarily.”
It was Caro’s turn to smile. “I fear that you are in the right of it. Susan informs me that I am a hasty dresser because my mind is on higher things. But I am not at all sure that it is merely that I am too impatient or too lazy to expend the effort,” she finished apologetically.
“Susan? Is that the likely looking lass that came to offer your excuses? I quite liked her—a most observant and intelligent girl she appears to be.”
“Yes. I should be quite lost without her. The fact that I am able to show my face in polite society at all is entirely due to her efforts at making me presentable.”
“I doubt that,” he replied, serious for a moment as he realized once again how attractive she truly was. “But she seems devoted to you. I was subjected to the most intense scrutiny. Mrs. Drummond Burrell could not be more exacting in her tastes.”
Caro laughed. “Yes, Susan has her standards, and very high they are, too. She appears to be a most talented seamstress and has aspirations to be a modiste to the fashionable world one day. I can serve only as a poor advertisement, but I intend to do my utmost to further her ambitions. She is extremely bright and capable and it would be a great shame if she were to waste away as a lady’s maid. But excuse me, I shall go see what I can do to make myself fit to be seen.” And Caro hurried off straightening her unruly curls as she went.
It was not long before she rejoined the marquess, having washed her face and changed from her simple morning dress of lemon-colored cambric muslin to a walking dress and spencer of blush-colored figured sarcenet, whose delicate hue set off the tinge of pink in her cheeks and emphasized the glossy dark hair, while its short tight cut revealed the supple figure beneath it. Taking in the picture she made standing on the threshold, the light of anticipation in her eyes, and her whole attitude of eager expectation, Nicholas could not think when he had seen Caro looking so lovely.
“I hope I did not keep you waiting. I confess your last remark put me rather on my mettle. But I could not go on such an important outing without at first changing my clothes. I have wished to see Parliament in action forever and I can’t thank you enough for taking me.”
Her enthusiasm was infectious and he could not help but reflect, as he explained to her the various precedents and, later, watching her absorb every word of each speaker, how much more enjoyable and exciting everything was when shared with someone who was curious and intelligent. Her questions tested his own knowledge of the issues at hand and forced him to think things through to their conclusions while her opinions, cogently expressed, expanded his own views of the problems being discussed.
Later, on the way home, encouraged by an eager and sympathetic listener, Nicholas found himself confiding dreams and plans for the improvement of the lot of the common man that he barely knew he possessed. But there was something about the encouraging tilt of the head, the light in the dark-fringed gray eyes, and the way Caro wrinkled her brow in concentration as she listened to him expound on the need to provide more work for the returning soldiers and opportunities for the poor to earn their livings and retain their dignity, that inspired him to share his fondest hopes with her.
Nor did her eyes glaze over, as did most everyone else’s when he waxed eloquent over the implementation of his plans. On the contrary, she was well and truly intrigued, listening carefully, offering an opinion here, a comment there until Nicholas was forced to admit he did not know when he had enjoyed a conversation more. How
wonderful it was to be judged on the merits of his ideas alone instead of his eligibility as a husband or lover. Perhaps there was something to this bluestocking thing after all. Certainly it was all very comfortable to be discussing matters with a female who wasn’t forever dimpling provocatively up at him or fluttering her eyelashes. He hadn’t realized until he had met Caro how very wearing it was to be constantly sought after. It was most novel, but he found intensely serious conversation with a woman as blithely unself-conscious as Caro to be far more restful than the lightest, most amusing of flirtations with her cousin.
However, her next words gave him some pause and he began to wonder if perhaps he ought not to stop and reconsider the advantages of escorting an empty-headed beauty who avoided the rigors of a social conscience at all costs.
“Yes, I agree that the plight of the poor in the nation, especially those in the cities, is become absolutely desperate. Why, even I, who have always made it a point to inform myself of such things, was absolutely shocked when I saw the living conditions in Spitalfields.” Realizing what she had said, Caro clapped a hand over her mouth.
“Spitalfields?” Nicholas stared at her dumbfounded. “When? How? What were you doing in Spitalfields? Why, even I would never venture near there and I have been in some uncomfortable spots in my life.”
“Perhaps you would do, but in a way that would cause comment. I prefer to observe as unobtrusively as possible.” Caro spoke haughtily, forgetting entirely that there had been numerous times in the Peninsula when he had not born the least resemblance to the elegant peer sitting across from her.
Enlightenment dawned. “Tony’s breeches!” Nicholas exclaimed.
The Bluestocking's Dilemma Page 17