by Ava Stone
“Well,” Galloway continued, “That piece of information could be extremely helpful in deciphering correspondence for this particular band of conspirators.”
“You’ve set up a man in her house,” Marc said, knowing he was right. He did, after all, know how Galloway operated. And his operatives were not usually of the honorable variety.
“If you start chasing her skirts again, it’ll bring undo attention to her ladyship and—”
“And you think I would leave her safety up to you?” Marc spat. “One would think you’d know me better than that.”
“I remember the young man you once were. The idealistic one. The—”
“That man is dead. You helped kill him,” Marc returned evenly. “I will thank you to see your way out, or I will be happy to toss you out on your arse.”
Caroline, Viscountess Staveley rested a hand on the library door. David’s domain. Or at least it had been for all the years of their marriage. If she squinted just so, she could still remember how he looked sitting amongst the books he adored. But no matter how much she wished it, David was never coming home. She would never lay eyes on him again.
It felt so strange being back in London without him. Of course, it had felt strange being at Benton Park without him too. It didn’t matter where she was. Life hadn’t been the same since David’s death. How could it be? She’d known her late-husband more than half her life, and she had no more of an idea about how to go on without him now than she had right after his murder. Hollow. That was the word. She still felt hollow.
“Mama!” Rachel, her eldest daughter, called from the corridor. She looked so much like Caroline, as they shared the same features, all except for Rachel’s darker coloring, which she’d inherited from her father.
Caroline pushed away from the library door and feigned the same smile she’d been feigning for her children the last several months. ‘”Good morning, darling.”
A genuine smile, at least Caroline hoped it was genuine, spread across her daughter’s face. Lovely as Rachel was, she had been difficult of late. “Kitty asked if I wanted to head to Bond Street with her and Mrs. Greywood today. May I?”
Kitty Greywood was hardly a good influence. The girl was slightly wild, especially the older she got, but David had been an old friend of the girl’s father. She and Rachel had known each other all of their lives. And her daughter did need some normality returned to her life. Still… “Mrs. Greywood will be with you?” she asked. At Rachel’s nod, Caroline continued, “And you’re headed to Bond Street not Covent Garden looking for that masked fellow who throws daggers again?”
“Mama!” Rachel seemed to sag a bit. “It was one time. Last year. I’m certain Kitty has found more interesting things to occupy her time these days.”
More interesting? That was a frightening thought. Losing Staveley was one thing, but Caroline could never go on if she lost her children. “Promise me you will not be reckless, Rachel.”
Her daughter’s eyes widened slightly. In years past, recklessness was not something Rachel had ever been accused of, while Caroline herself had been called that most of her life. Though her daughter was certainly coming into her own these days. And without David’s steadying influence, Caroline would have to find a way to be less reckless, herself, and more steady if only for her children’s sakes.
“Rachel?” she prodded.
“I promise.”
Caroline nodded. “Take Nelly with you and be sure to tell Mrs. Greywood hello for me, then.”
“Thank you,” Rachel said quickly before darting back around the corner, leaving Caroline quite alone, standing next to the library.
“I will always miss you,” she whispered into the empty library.
“Lady Staveley.” Tindle, her butler, cleared his throat, and the sound nearly made Caroline jump from her skin. “The Duchess of Kelfield has called. I placed Her Grace in the white parlor.”
Livvie. Here, no doubt, to see how Caroline was faring upon her return to London. At least she wouldn’t have to feign a smile for Livvie. Her dear cousin would see through such a ruse and doing so would only worry her more than she probably already was. “Thank you. I’ll attend her shortly.”
Caroline took a steadying breath and then went directly to the white parlor. Upon Caroline’s entrance, Olivia, the Duchess of Kelfield, pushed off the settee, grinning from ear to ear.
“Caroline!” she gushed. “I’m so happy to see you.” Then Livvie threw her arms around Caroline’s shoulders and held her tightly. “How are you?” she whispered in her ear. “How are you really?”
“Managing,” Caroline replied, squeezing Livvie to her before taking a step away to inspect her cousin who’d always been more like a little sister than anything else. “You look well.” And she did. Livvie’s hazel eyes twinkled and her smile was bright and she practically… “You’re…” Heavens! Was she really? “Livvie, you’re glowing.”
A blush stained Livvie’s cheeks. “How in the world could you tell so easily? I haven’t even told Alex.”
A baby. Something happy and joyous to look forward to. And Caroline’s heart did lift a bit at the thought. “Oh, darling, I’m so happy for you.” But then the rest of her cousin’s words sunk in. “Wait. You haven’t told Alex?”
Livvie slid her hand into Caroline’s and towed her back to the settee. “You know how he is. The most overprotective duke in all the realm. He’d send me back to Everett Place, and I would miss any excitement there is to be had,” she said as they sat. “I am not ready to be confined to the country, not yet.” She shrugged. “I’ll tell him before I start showing, I promise.”
Caroline laughed. “Yes, well, he would notice at that point.”
“With any luck, I have a few months.”
Livvie was delusional if she thought she had that long. Alexander Everett, the Duke of Kelfield, was a most loving and attentive husband. Livvie probably only had a few weeks at most before Alex realized that something was different.
“Speaking of Alex,” Livvie began. “Am I an awful wife to wish he had more respectable friends?”
Alex had plenty of respectable friends. These days all of them could be called as such except…Marc. Caroline heaved a sigh as that familiar bitterness that had been so much a part of her life these last few months swelled within her once more. “What has Haversham done now?”
Livvie rolled her eyes. “What hasn’t he done?”
Well, that was a valid question. Of course, Caroline didn’t really have a reason to hate Marc. After all, had he gone to Derbyshire when she’d begged him to, he could just as easily have met his end at the hands of that murderous Captain Pierce as David had done. But Caroline didn’t really believe that, not in her heart. David was mild-mannered. David was soft spoken and believed the best in everyone. He’d never had a chance against Pierce, but Marc… Well, Marc was not mild-mannered nor did he believe the best in anyone. And Marc was more than capable of handling himself. He was a survivor. Caroline had no doubt that not only would he have survived an attack from Captain Piece, but Marc would have killed the villain before the man could have hurt anyone else. But he hadn’t gone to Derbyshire as she’d begged. He’d let David head off there instead. And Caroline could never forgive him for that.
“Last week there was an incident with an actress,” Livvie began.
That was hardly surprising to hear. Marc did have a taste for actresses, much as Alex once had. “An incident? “
“Screamed at him so loud from her dressing room, Phoebe said they could hear her in their box.” Livvie shook her head. “And this week he ruined the Bramley earldom.”
Marc was a callous, selfish blackguard who only cared about himself, but Caroline wasn’t sure how he could possibly have brought down the Bramley earldom all on his own.
Her expression must have said as much because Livvie continued. “Hazard. Bankrupted Bramley. They fished him out of the Thames just yesterday.”
Bramley had killed himself over a gambl
ing loss? Caroline’s mouth fell open. “Oh, good heavens.”
“Honestly, I can’t understand what Alex sees in him.” Then she shrugged. “Cordie, either, for that matter, but she’ll defend him with her dying breath.”
“He did take a bullet meant for Clayworth,” Caroline replied, not wanting to defend Marc of anything. But he had saved Cordie Clayworth’s husband a number of years ago. It only stood to reason the countess would forgive any of his transgressions.
“Anyone can do one decent thing.”
“And he did warn Cordie when that awful Mason fellow was looking to kill Philip.”
Livvie winced at the memory. “Philip still ended up with a bullet in him.”
He had, but that hadn’t been Marc’s fault, though Caroline wouldn’t say those words aloud. She hated Marcus Gray, she hated him with everything in her, and she wasn’t about to list every decent thing he’d ever done, even if the list would be short.
“Bye, Mama,” Rachel said from the threshold of the parlor.
“Oh, heavens!” Livvie breathed out. “Rachel, I can’t believe how grown up you are.”
And neither could Caroline. Sixteen. A year older than Caroline had been when she’d married David. And then Rachel had come along nine months later. How had time flown so quickly by? At 32, she still felt young, or at least she had until David died. “Be careful,” she said to her daughter. “No dagger throwing fiends.”
Rachel rolled her eyes, much in the same way Caroline would have done at her age if given the same warning. “Not even Kitty could talk Mrs. Greywood into that, Mama.” Then she waved from the doorway. “See you soon, Livvie.” And then she was gone.
Livvie’s eyes were still wide when Caroline looked back at her. “On my life, I blinked and she’s grown up.”
“She thinks she is,” Caroline corrected.
“Adam’s doing well at Eton?”
“His marks are good.” Though he was still adjusting to coming into the viscountcy at such a young age. Her son had been silently stoic about the whole thing, reminding her completely of David.
“And Emma?” Livvie asked.
Caroline swiped at a tear before it could trail down her cheek. “She’s having the hardest time adjusting,” she admitted softly. “She loved David more than anything in the world.”
“And he adored her,” Livvie agreed. And then she closed her eyes as though composing herself before opening them to pin Caroline with a most serious expression. “Is there anything I can do? Anything at all? I owe you so much, so many people do. And I just feel helpless. But if there’s something you need—”
Caroline hugged her cousin to her and squeezed Livvie tightly. “You’ve always been here for me. That’s all I need.”
“It doesn’t seem like enough,” Livvie whispered.
“It has to be.”
After securing Caroline’s promise that she and the girls would attend Astley’s Amphitheatre with the Kelfields later that week, Livvie departed for her own home and Caroline was left alone, staring at the walls of her white parlor, fending off the familiar grief that had become so much a part of her life.
How everything had changed since she’d last sat in this room! Once upon a time, she would have never just sat in a parlor. She would have been plotting and planning and devising schemes, mostly of the matchmaking variety. She would never have just sat in her white parlor feeling sorry for herself. And she didn’t want to spend the rest of her years doing that either. It wasn’t in her nature. There had to be more than that. There just had to be.
She just wasn’t sure how to find it. How to go on. But sitting alone in her parlor wasn’t the way to go about it, whatever it was. So…a stroll. A stroll somewhere, anywhere was called for.
With that immediate thought in her mind, she pushed off the settee, bid a farewell to Tindle, and made a direct path out of Staveley House and down the steps onto Curzon Street. But she only made it a few paces before she felt something…almost as if someone was watching her. Caroline stopped on the walk and glanced across the street to find Marcus Gray, of all the villains in the world, watching her with such a serious expression, her stomach tightened in response.
A SCANDALOUS VOW continues…