by Laura Martin
‘I saw one or two looking,’ she admitted. With a glass of punch in her hand and the swell of music behind them, she was feeling suddenly brave and stepped in a little closer. ‘What is it about my appearance that is entrancing?’ She spoke with an air of innocence, her eyes wide as she waited for James’s answer.
He cleared his throat again and Caroline felt an unfamiliar rush of anticipation. It was as though tonight he was seeing her as a woman for the first time, not just his comfortable friend.
Waving his hand vaguely to encompass her entire body, he raised his eyes to meet hers.
‘Blue suits you,’ he said eventually.
‘But I’ve worn blue before...’
His eyes flitted down again, lingering on her body before he answered. ‘Not like this. The dress emphasises your curves. Then falls away into a sweeping skirt that makes a man imagine...’ He trailed off.
‘Imagine?’ Caroline prompted.
James lifted his eyes to meet hers, holding them for a long moment before he continued. ‘Imagine what is underneath.’
‘Oh.’ She knew he was doing just that, perhaps for the first time ever, and she felt a shiver of pleasure at the thought.
‘I must apologise for the crassness of all men,’ he said, his eyes still not leaving hers.
‘I hardly think I can blame you for how all men think.’
‘That would be unfair.’
She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to break this magical moment. They might be standing in a ballroom filled with people, but it was as if they had all faded away and it was just the two of them floating in wonderful solitude.
‘And it is useful to know how men think,’ she said, taking another step towards him. A few more inches and it would be viewed as inappropriately close, but Caroline felt like stepping over the boundary anyway. Instead she tilted her head so she was looking up at him. ‘You can be my guide.’
‘I’m not sure I should be revealing the secrets of our sex.’ He smiled at her then, the grin he reserved just for her, and Caroline felt her legs wobble underneath her.
‘What if I promise not to tell?’
‘You know I’ve never been good at saying no to you. What do you want to know?’
Caroline considered. There were so many things she wished she knew, but most of them were personal to James and not something that applied to all men.
‘My mother always told me a man is more interested in a woman’s qualities than her appearance, but I’ve always thought that is untrue. The pretty girls are always married off first no matter their personalities.’
‘Men are superficial fools,’ James said with a wry shake of his head. ‘We know it is more important to have a woman we can converse with, we can laugh with, that we could build a life with, but our rebellious minds have different ideas. It’s all rather primal. For men I think we are more visual than women, at least at first, until you get to know someone.’
Caroline felt the carefree exuberance seep out of her and she took a step back. The reality of her situation came crashing back into her consciousness. Tonight James had been affected by her appearance, but normally he did not notice her. One night was not going to change anything.
With a deep breath she steeled herself for the familiar disappointment, then looked up at him with sunny smile and looped her arm through his.
‘Walk with me for a moment,’ she said, dipping her head low so he couldn’t see the loss of the smile and the tears now brimming in her eyes.
He obliged, strolling around the periphery of the ballroom, talking quietly so only she could hear. It was as if he could sense her sudden melancholy and fought it with a string of wry observations about the ball and their fellow guests. It was late, well into the early hours of the morning now, and the crowd was beginning to thin out, leaving only the most dedicated of couples on the dance floor for the final dance.
As the music died away Caroline squeezed his arm, then walked purposefully away. She was done for this evening, ready for her bed, ready to let sleep wash away the mounting feeling of disappointment.
* * *
‘I saw you dance with Lord Hauxton,’ her mother said softly. Caroline laid her head on her mother’s shoulder and allowed herself to think back over the evening. If she was being fair to herself, she would call it a resounding success. She’d been inundated with requests to dance and not just from the husbands of friends who knew she liked to be asked. She’d spent the evening waltzing and reeling and talking and laughing. It had been fun, more fun than she’d allowed herself to have at a ball for years.
Then there was Lord Hauxton, serious but kind. Lord Hauxton, who hadn’t asked anyone to dance since the death of his wife three years earlier, but tonight had stepped on to the dance floor with her. He’d spoken softly, listened to her opinions and made it clear it wouldn’t be the last time they conversed.
‘He was very attentive.’ She was pleased, even if she had to keep reminding herself of the fact.
‘You did very well tonight, Caroline darling. I think we will have no problem finding you a husband this Season.’
Caroline yawned. She wanted nothing but to fall into her soft, comfortable bed, pull the covers up to her chin and sleep until the sun was high in the sky.
‘The Duke was also very attentive this evening,’ her mother said, measuring the words cautiously.
Caroline was careful not to let her body react. She wasn’t sure if her mother knew of her infatuation with James. Lady Yaxley was astute and had always been involved in Caroline’s life, much more than most parents she knew. It wouldn’t surprise Caroline if her mother knew of her feelings for James, just as it wouldn’t surprise her that she’d allowed Caroline her privacy over the years.
‘We spoke a couple of times. It is good to have him back from the Continent.’
Lady Yaxley sighed, a heartfelt sound that made Caroline sit up and look at her mother. ‘I had hoped...’ She inclined her head as if trying to find a delicate way to phrase the sentence. ‘I had hoped he might realise what he is missing. Or what he will miss when you marry.’
Caroline gave a little shrug. She knew if she spoke now she was at risk of all the pent-up emotions flooding out and she wasn’t sure if she was strong enough for that this evening.
‘We will still be friends.’ She could hear the quiver in her own voice and knew if they continued talking about James she was at risk of bursting into tears.
‘That’s not what I meant, darling. I had hoped he might offer for you himself.’
Caroline opened her mouth to answer, but found nothing would come out. The words felt trapped in her throat as if thick honey was sticking and holding them.
‘I know how you feel about him,’ her mother said quietly, squeezing Caroline’s hand. ‘And he may not feel the same way, but I do think you would be very happy together.’
‘I’m not what he wants.’ Caroline bit the inside of her lip, hoping the pain would stop the tears, but it didn’t work and the salty droplets were soon streaming down her cheeks.
‘Sometimes men can’t see what’s right in front of them.’ She wrapped an arm around Caroline and hugged her tight. ‘It doesn’t mean you’re any less wonderful, any less perfect.’
The carriage bumped over a rut in the road and Caroline felt her mother hug her closer to her. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to find some inner strength to bring her out of this moment.
‘Just remember there are many paths to happiness,’ Lady Yaxley said sagely. ‘Which is why I think you’re doing the right thing. And not just because I want grandchildren.’
‘You and Father didn’t love each other when you first met, did you?’
Lady Yaxley laughed. ‘Goodness, no. I could barely stand him. He was young and arrogant and hadn’t seen enough of the world to be comfortable in it yet. I didn’t much like him for the first f
ew months of our acquaintance, but with time we both matured and now I can’t imagine life without him.’
Caroline nodded, knowing she was partly still trying to convince herself.
‘Life is what you make it, my sweet. You are a naturally happy person, a joy to be around. You will make a success of your marriage whomever you decide to give yourself to. Remember that.’
‘I will.’
The carriage drew to a stop outside the front door of their town house and after a few seconds the door was opened and the footman helped first Caroline and then her mother down. They hurried inside, out of the cool night air, and Caroline quickly bade her mother goodnight.
Chapter Eight
Cursing under his breath as he looked at the clock, James threw off his bedsheets and stood. It was only six o’clock in the morning, and after the ball he hadn’t got to bed much before three, but sleep was eluding him and every moment he lay in bed tossing and turning he grew more and more agitated.
Pulling on his trousers, he dropped to the floor and began the regime he’d honed over the years to keep his body fit and conditioned. Exercise had a way of cleansing the mind and he hoped after a few rounds his muscles would be screaming and the troublesome thoughts in his head would have quietened.
Caroline. She was what was bothering him. As he’d fallen into bed a few hours earlier he’d welcomed sleep, only to find it plagued by entirely inappropriate images of his closest friend. He’d dreamed of her in that striking blue dress, hair cascading freely around her shoulders, but instead of a background of the ballroom she was in his bedroom, beckoning him towards his bed. He’d woken with his body hard and filled with desire and every time he closed his eyes he now saw the Caroline of his dreams inviting him to step closer, to touch her, to taste her.
Pushing himself harder, he felt the exquisite burn in his arms as he pushed up and down again and again. He continued until his arms felt as though they might collapse beneath him before moving on to his legs, but still the images of Caroline haunted him.
‘Control,’ he murmured under his breath. Control was something he prided himself on, one of his strengths. He never showed his irritation when an ambitious mother interrupted a private conversation to thrust her daughter in his direction nor allowed any of the more militant tenants on his estate to rile him when they asked for unfair concessions. He was skilled at hiding his true feelings from the public eye, only letting those who were close to him to glimpse what he really thought on a variety of matters. The issue was Caroline knew him better than anyone else. She would notice the change in him immediately, notice he acted differently around her.
He could picture her stepping in close, her breasts brushing against his arm, her head tilted up so her eyes met his. He could almost feel her soft breath, the sharp inhalation as he wrapped his hands around her and pulled her body in to his.
With a groan James straightened, then dropped to the floor. It seemed one round of exercise wasn’t enough to banish the inappropriate thoughts.
* * *
Pausing at the bottom of the steps leading to the front door, James glimpsed the familiar figure of Milton through the window. He frowned. The man was taking things too fast, he’d only danced with Caroline a few hours earlier and now he was here at her house, pressing his suit.
Taking the steps two at a time, James knocked on the front door, stepping inside as a footman opened it.
‘Good afternoon, Redwood,’ he said, passing the young man his coat.
‘Good afternoon, sir. Shall I announce you?’
‘No need. I know the way.’ He strode through the hall and pushed open the door to the drawing room, blinking as he took in the only two occupants of the room.
Caroline was sitting in her normal place in the corner of an elegant sofa. Facing her, in a chair that was pulled close, was Milton. They had their heads bowed together, talking quietly, only looking up when he stepped into the room.
Lady Yaxley was nowhere to be seen. Caroline’s mother was often a little lax with her chaperoning duties where James was concerned, but he’d imagined her to be more thorough with any other gentleman. Anything could be happening in the drawing room.
‘Your Grace,’ Caroline said, a sunny smile on her face. She looked radiant, her cheeks flushed and rosy and her eyes shining. ‘What a lovely surprise.’
‘Miss Yaxley,’ he said stiffly, nodding a greeting to Milton. ‘Milton. I didn’t expect to see you here.’
Milton opened his mouth to answer, a half-amused, half-puzzled expression on his face, but at that moment Lady Yaxley came breezing into the room.
‘Good afternoon, Your Grace,’ she said, coming over to James and giving him a motherly embrace. ‘What a lovely surprise.’
‘I will leave you to your new visitor,’ Milton said, directing a smile at Caroline. ‘Until tomorrow.’
James waited until Milton had been shown out before he spoke again. ‘Tomorrow?’
‘Lord Hauxton has invited me to accompany him and his sister to the opera.’
‘You don’t like the opera.’
Caroline shrugged. ‘He’s not to know that. Anyway, I haven’t been for almost a year, perhaps I will enjoy it this time.’
‘Perhaps.’
‘Come and sit,’ she said, sitting back down herself and patting the seat of the sofa next to her.
James sat, feeling his leg brush hers. Caroline didn’t seem to notice, turning to him with a sunny smile.
‘I didn’t expect to see you today.’
‘I found myself eager for your company.’ In truth, he had agonised over the decision of whether to pay a call on Caroline. He felt as though he needed to see her to prove to himself the dream and his reaction to her yesterday had been anomalies. That she was the same old Caroline, not this new seductress his mind had cast her as.
‘Lord Hauxton is a friend of yours, isn’t he?’ Lady Yaxley said quietly. For a moment he’d forgotten she was there in the room with them.
‘Yes. A good friend.’
‘He’s a good man?’
James nodded. He couldn’t lie as much as he felt inexplicably compelled to. ‘He’s a good man. One of the best.’
Lady Yaxley nodded, satisfied.
‘I thought perhaps...’ James began, but was interrupted by the door opening and Lord Mottringham stepping into the drawing room.
‘Lord Mottringham to see Miss Yaxley,’ the footman intoned, stepping back out of the room. Caroline stood, smoothing down the skirt on her pale pink dress.
‘Ah, you have company,’ Mottringham said, his voice gravelly.
‘Come in and sit down,’ Lady Yaxley said graciously.
‘I won’t stay long,’ Mottringham ran his hand over the bald dome of his head, then started to fiddle with his moustache. James realised he was nervous and remembered Caroline’s words a few days ago—that Mottringham had once been interested in offering for her hand in marriage. ‘Actually I was hoping to have a moment alone with Miss Yaxley.’
Caroline’s eyes widened and he felt her fingers digging in to the material of the sofa between them. He had the urge to reach out and take her hand, to reassure her that he wouldn’t abandon her to whatever Lord Mottringham wanted to propose, but he knew it wasn’t his place.
‘A moment alone,’ Lady Yaxley echoed. ‘Of course. Perhaps you would be so kind as to accompany me for a stroll around the garden, Your Grace,’ she said, turning to him.
James hesitated. Caroline’s fingers had edged closer to his and brushed the edge of his hand. He could see the tension in her shoulders, the breath she hadn’t released in her chest.
‘Surely a chaperon...’ he began.
Lady Yaxley waved away her hand. ‘The door will be left open and I am certain Lord Mottringham has no nefarious intentions.’
She stood, leaving him no choice but to accompany her.
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Outside James lingered for a second, watching as Lord Mottringham sat down in the place he’d just vacated. He sat close to Caroline, too close, and James was about to rush back into the room when Lady Yaxley gently tugged on his arm.
‘My husband has known Lord Mottringham for many years,’ she said quietly, her tone reassuring. ‘He is a valiant man, a good man. He would never compromise Caroline.’
They walked through the hallway, into the bright morning room at the back of the house and out through the glass doors into the small garden beyond.
‘He’s friends with your husband?’
‘Good friends. Lord Mottringham also has an estate near ours in Hampshire.’
‘He’s too old,’ James said bluntly. He wasn’t normally so free with his opinions, but he felt shaken. Caroline had declared her intention to marry and had told him it didn’t much matter to her who her husband was. Now Lord Mottringham was no doubt asking her to be his wife. It would be the wrong decision for her to accept, but she might not see it. He was too old, too bumbling, too dull.
‘Many young women are perfectly happy with an older husband.’ Lady Yaxley seemed calm and unperturbed.
‘He wouldn’t make her happy. He doesn’t know her.’
‘Caroline is an extraordinary young woman.’ She held up her hand laughing. ‘I know I’m biased, but she is extraordinary. She will make her own happiness.’
James grimaced. She might well do, but the idea of Mottringham touching her, taking her to his bed, made him feel nauseous.
‘I doubt she will give him an answer today.’ Lady Yaxley paused to take a sniff of the last solitary rose on a healthy-looking bush in the corner of the garden. ‘She will wait, see what develops with Lord Hauxton and give Mottringham his answer in a few days.’