Regency Hearts Boxed Set

by Jennifer Monroe

  “Thank you, Margaret,” she said, placing a hand on the woman’s hand. “I will ask him tonight if he will accompany me.” She quickly added, “as my protector, of course.”

  “Of course,” Margaret replied, though her smile never faltered.

  Chapter Eight

  A fortnight later, Caroline found herself sitting on a grassy hill overlooking the ocean, a sight she had never seen before. Above her, the sky was a deep blue, and below her, white crests topped the waves.

  She had arrived in Cornwall the day before, tired from the long journey and yet still excited to experience something new. Oliver was napping, Miss Lindston watching over him, and Philip was beside her, watching over Caroline.

  “Is there anything in particular that you would like to do while we are here?” he asked. His voice had a formal tone to it, but they had been inside the carriage for so long, she could imagine that he had developed a habit of formality with her.

  “The ocean,” she said, “This is my first experience with it. Might we go closer?”

  “Of course,” he replied. He stood and then offered his hand, which she took without hesitation.

  She slipped her arm in his, and they made their way down the hill.

  “I thought the boy would be too excited to sleep,” Philip said.

  “As did I. Although, I must admit, I find I am quite tired myself; I am just too stubborn to allow sleep to win.” This brought on a shared laughter that made Caroline feel warm inside.

  They came to a path that led down to a sandy beach, and Caroline smiled at the other couples, who, like she and Philip, walked together arm in arm.

  Yet, she did not feel a sense of satisfaction at the thought. “We are not a couple,” she whispered to herself as a reminder of where they stood.

  Philip glanced down at her. “Did you say something?”

  “No,” she said much too quickly. “Well, I mean, yes. I was just reciting a line of poetry.” A strange twinge of guilt came to her; however, to tell this man the truth of what she had said could not happen, so she resigned herself to the lie.

  The sand beneath her slippered feet crumbled as they continued their trek forward, and they finally came to a stop.

  “It is truly magnificent,” she said. “In all my life, I never thought I would be blessed enough to see the ocean, and yet, here I am.” She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, enjoying the salty scent in the air and the cool breeze that touched her skin.

  “Now that you are here, then, that dream is realized,” Philip said.

  She opened her eyes and looked up at him. “True. However, I still have many more dreams. Will they be fulfilled, as well, my wise friend?”

  “I believe they will.”

  They remained quiet for a short time, and Caroline found that just watching the waves brought about a sense of peace, as did the man beside her. His presence alone made her feel safe, and she was glad he was there with her.

  “I told you before that I do not have any friends,” she said as she turned her gaze out to the ocean waves once again. “And although you are my protector and I am your employer, I do consider you a friend.”

  Philip remained quiet, and she worried she had offended him in some way. It was strange, but she found his silence disappointing.

  When he did speak, he seemed to choose his words carefully. “Once you are set into your new life, you will have new friends, far better friends than your gardener. I will not be around forever.”

  His words crushed her heart, and she wondered why she found them so cruel. “So, you plan on leaving me one day?” she asked, attempting to mask the hurt in her voice but knowing she failed.

  “It is inevitable.” He turned to look down at her once again. “However, it will not be because it is something I want.”

  She found his words evasive. “Then why would you leave?

  He sighed. “Because life gives us unexpected turns. What we believe will happen tomorrow might not. One day, you will meet a man who will capture your heart. Your attention will turn to him, as it should. When that happens, my presence will no longer be needed, nor will it be appropriate.”

  Without explanation, anger rose in Caroline. “I will decide what is appropriate,” she snapped. “Not my gardener or any other man for that matter.” As soon as the words left her lips, she regretted them. How could she snap at this man who had treated her with such respect and care? He was not Reginald, and he never would be. “Philip, I did not mean what I just said.”

  The wind blew the hair from his face as he gazed down at her. “You are only speaking the truth; your decisions are yours alone to make.”

  “It is not that,” she said. “I have come to find my strength in you. Your wisdom has saved me numerous times already, and the thought of you not being there bothers me.”

  He turned his attention back to the ocean, but his words were kind and soothing as he said, “Wisdom can be learned, strength cannot. You have both, though you do not yet realize it. You will, however, and I will be here to help where I can.”

  Her anger subsided and now confidence replaced it. No man had ever spoken such words to her nor made her feel so capable. And as they both watched the waves roll before them, she found that she liked his words more than ever.

  ***

  The following days were busy with purchases of new dresses for Caroline, a new wardrobe for Oliver—the boy was growing out of everything he owned so quickly, she could barely keep up!—and, although he kept refusing, several new coats and breeches for Philip. The seamstress had been adamant that the clothing for Caroline would be ready by tomorrow morning, although the time was short, and the tailor had also worked diligently to have the clothing for Oliver and Philip ready to be delivered the same day—all so they could begin the long journey home.

  Caroline would have preferred to remain in Cornwall; the peacefulness of the oceanside and lack of responsibilities was what she had needed. However, life could not be ignored, not if she wished to have an estate left for her son to run when he became of age.

  Sporting a new hat on his head, Oliver walked beside his governess, as proud as a peacock. Caroline had never seen him in such a state; yet, he wore the first hat he had a hand in choosing. Granted, it was beyond his years in style, but he had been quite proud of choosing something that matched a choice Philip had made.

  Caroline sneaked a glance at Philip through her lashes, who strolled beside her. He was the same stoic man he always was, and he seemed to take his position as protector very seriously as his eyes roved around as if in search of assassins. Despite that stoicism, he was a handsome man. Yet, he still had shared nothing of his life with her. Who was he really? He did the work of a servant but spoke like nobility; that was not something one would expect of a servant. His mannerisms also belied his station. What secrets did this man hold?

  “You realize that your hat does not hide your glances toward me, do you not?” Philip said with a chuckle.

  Caroline sniffed, although, inside she held mirth. “Do not assume I was looking at you,” she said with a jut to her chin, “for I was not.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her, and she could not hold in her laughter any longer. “Oh, very well! I was looking at you. However, it is not what you believe.”

  His eyebrow raised further. “And what do I believe?”

  Caroline almost tripped on a stone. “I-I am unsure what you believe, to be honest. You are very quiet.”

  “I am always quiet.”

  To this she gave a nod. The man was fascinating, that much was true. If only she could hear his thoughts or get him to speak about himself so she could know him better.

  Then an idea came to her. Margaret had said that one way to loosen the tongue of a man was to ply him with drinks. Perhaps during dinner this evening she could get him to agree to several drinks with her. She would, of course, stick to wine, for spirits could easily turn against her. However, she would see that he had several glasses of brandy or whiskey and se
e where that led.

  Suddenly, Miss Lindston yelped and would have fallen if Philip had not raced forward and caught her by the arm.

  “Are you all right?” he asked her.

  “I believe so, Mr. Butler,” she replied. “I’m afraid I was not watching where I was going.” She smiled at him. “Thank you.”

  He returned her smile, and a burning in Caroline’s stomach unsettled her. She placed her hand on her stomach and turned to a shop window, and she gazed through it without seeing what was inside. Had she eaten food that had disagreed with her? The prunes at the morning meal had seemed off.

  She pushed aside the uneasiness and returned her thoughts to the matter at hand. She really did need to learn more about this man to whom she had entrusted her life and the life of her son.

  “Your Grace,” Miss Lindston said from behind her, “should I take Master Hayward back to the room for a nap?”

  “No!” shouted Oliver as he rubbed his eyes. “I don’t want to go to sleep.”

  “Now, Oliver, even if we are on holidays, your sleep is very important. Why do you not go on now and if you are good, I will allow you one small cake before bed. If not, you will get none. What say you?”

  The young boy’s stance changed. “Oh, yes, that would be nice,” he said. Then he grabbed the governess’s hand. “Come on, Miss Lindston. We have a cake to eat.”

  Caroline laughed at the urgency with which her son now spoke, but that laughter died when she noticed the smile the young governess gave Philip. “And Miss Lindston,” she said before the pair could leave, “if you would please see that he is read a story? I am afraid I will be involved in some matters of business and will not be able to do so.”

  The woman gave her a curtsy and replied, “Of course, Your Grace.”

  As the pair walked away, Caroline stiffened her resolve. She had no business to which to attend; however, if she wished to become closer to Philip, she had to strike quickly, or another woman would catch his eye.

  How strange, she thought. She had seen Philip as handsome, to be sure, but until she had seen the look the governess had given him, she had not realized that she desired more from him that his protection. She desired more, indeed.

  ***

  The sound of the waves crashing on the beach was relaxing, the full moon breathtaking, and the presence of Philip beside Caroline was spellbinding as they walked along the beach. Her plan to ply him with drinks had gone awry, for she suspected she was now more inebriated than he was. Rather than loosening his tongue, it was she who did most of the talking, but somehow she could not dam the flow of words.

  “No one is about,” she said in a chastising tone. “Why not pull back your hair.” Did her words sound slurred?

  “As you wish,” he said, and he pulled back his hair over his shoulder.

  Oh, yes, this man was handsome, exceedingly so, and she found she could not take her eyes off his face. However, what captured her was his smile; it was comforting and had a kindness to it, despite his reluctance to speak about himself.

  “Thank you,” he said, though he did not look at her. “I have been told I am handsome, but handsomeness does not define a man.”

  She stopped and stared at him aghast. Had she spoken aloud? But of course, she must have. Why had she consumed so much wine, and on such an important night of all times? How was she to glean any information from the man if she could not hold her wits about her?

  Despite the horror she felt within, she could not stop the giggle from escaping her lips. Oh, really! She needed to pull herself together or all would be lost.

  “This week has been a joy to Oliver and me,” she said in an attempt to guide the conversation away from her bungle. “Even Miss Lindston has seemed to enjoy herself, courtesy of you.”

  “Oh?” he asked, still not looking at her. “And how is that? I have hardly spoken two words to the woman.”

  Caroline could not stop the snort she gave. “When you saved her from falling, I saw the look in her eyes. It was a look of a woman with specific interests in mind. You did not release your grip from her at first. Perhaps you enjoyed holding her.”

  What am I doing? Caroline thought frantically. This deceitful tongue of mine!

  Philip stopped and turned to smile at her. “That could be true,” he said, a bit of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Or perhaps I wanted to assure myself she was safe before I released her.”

  Caroline laughed. “Allow me to show you,” she said, though inside she screamed, No! “Catch me.”

  With that, she fell forward and was relieved when Philip caught her, his strong arms holding her up at her waist. “Now, do not let go, and I shall act the part of Miss Lindston.”

  He gave her an amused smile and nodded.

  “Oh, Philip,” she said in that damsel-in-distress manner of the theater, her eyelashes batting dramatically, “thank you for saving me!” She giggled.

  What a silly thing to do! her mind screamed. However, she could not stop herself; her heart was in charge, fighting her mind for control of her tongue. “You are such a strong and handsome man. I can see why you are not letting go of me.”

  “If I let go,” Philip said, his smile still filled with mirth, “Her Grace would dismiss me for allowing her governess to fall and be injured. It is for that reason I continue to hold you.”

  They stood there for several moments looking into each other’s eyes, and Caroline could hardly breathe. The air around them had changed, as had the hold that Philip had on her. No longer was it keeping her from falling; now it held her close. “And why do you hold me now?” she asked. “Because I might dismiss you?”

  He shook his head. “No. I still hold you because I do not want to see you hurt.”

  Nothing could have made her heart soar more than those words at that moment. “It was the same when you gave me water when you should not have; you risked your position so I would not suffer. However, I know that, in your arms, I could never suffer.” The last came out in a whisper, and her mind no longer chastised her words, for it had joined her heart, giving her the feeling of flight.

  He went to speak, but she stood on her toes and pressed her lips to his. Although it was the first time she had kissed a man of her own free will, his response brought her back down to earth, for his lips did not press back. What she had expected was a reflection of what was in her heart, but instead, there was nothing.

  “Why do you reject me?” she asked as she took a step back from him. “Am I not pretty enough for you?”

  He offered her a smile that left her disappointed. What she should have seen was anguish or hurt, not this affable smile he wore. “I value our friendship all too much,” he replied. “I do not wish to lose such a gift.”

  Anger coursed through her, although she knew deep inside that it lacked reason. She had opened herself up to him, and he dared to speak of friendship? “You told me we could not be friends, for if we became as such, you would have to leave me. Now I am in your arms and you reject me?” She knew she was shouting, but she could not stifle the words, her ire was so great. “Tell me, am I not suitable for you?” She brushed away the hot tears she could not keep from sliding down her cheeks. How could she have humiliated herself this way?

  He remained calm in the wake of her anger. “You are far better than to be suitable for the likes of a man such as myself,” he said in quiet contrast to her shouted words. “You have a sharp mind, a kind heart, and your beauty radiates upon a thousand hills.”

  “I do not understand! Why do you reject me?” she asked, unable to control the pleading in her voice. “Is there another?”

  Then realization came to her as she saw the truth in his eyes. He loved someone, and that someone was not her. She had thrown herself at a man about whom she knew nothing. That had been the goal of this evening; to learn more about him. Instead, she had acted no better than Miss French.

  “No need to explain,” she said with a low voice. “I have embarrassed myself enough for a lifetime.�
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  She turned to leave, but he reached out and grabbed her arm.

  “No,” he said. “You do not understand.” How could his voice remain calm while hers was that of a raving madwoman? And from where had that madwoman come? Had she been hiding away inside her all this time, or had she conjured some angry spirit with her actions?

  Despite from where these new emotions came, when she looked into his eyes and saw the pain within, she discovered she could not walk away. Not without hearing what he had to say.

  “I once loved a woman,” he said as he looked out across the waters. “I loved her more than anything in this world. Her death is a shame I carry to this day…and the reason I cannot love another.”

  The pain in his eyes deepened, and Caroline realized that she had misread him. She could have attributed it to the alcohol she had consumed, but she knew it was her own misguided naivety that was to blame. The alcohol had only brought forth what was inside. How she wished she could remove that pain he carried, but it could not be so, for the love about which she had wondered, he had experienced, and the loss of it had crushed him.

  “I am sorry, Philip. I did not know.”

  He nodded, and they stood on that beach for several moments in silence, both lost in their own thoughts.

  After some time, he turned and smiled down at her. “It is time I took on a friend, Caroline,” he said. “I believe you are the finest friend a man or woman could ever want. If it is not too presumptuous of me, might I be your friend as well as your protector? Allow me this one honor and I will ask for nothing more.”

  She did not need to take time to consider his request. “Of course,” she replied. Then she surprised herself by wrapping her arms around him, not in the embrace of lovers but rather that of friendship. Although she would not have the love she had sought, she knew it was a special kind of fondness. For that she was happy and would cherish it always.

  “You will always be my friend, Philip,” she said. “And as my friend, you may never leave me, do you understand? Whether I marry one day or not.”