The newcomer, a young woman, put her back to the door with her palms flat against the polished wood surface and appeared to be listening for something. At any other time, Cara’s curiosity would have been stirred, but as of late she found it hard to care about anything. At least her visitor didn’t have a tray of food or a family member in tow.
“Cara.” The woman removed the cap that had shadowed her face. “You have to come with me. Now.”
At the mention of her name, Cara took a closer look at the servant. Everyone around here called her Caroline and she seemed . . . “Lady Mallory?”
“Shhh. They might hear.”
Cara crossed to her friend, hope finally escaping from the corner of her heart where she’d shoved it as the days passed and Garret made no attempt to see her. “What are you doing here, dressed like that?”
“They wouldn’t let me see you.”
“Who wouldn’t?”
“Your family.”
“Why not?” Cara repressed a smile. Garret’s sister seemed to have a flare for the dramatic.
Mallory shook her head and gave a slight shrug. “I’m a Kendal.”
“But that’s no reason . . .” Understanding washed over her. It all made sense. Her mother’s comments and her brother’s desire to break the betrothal had nothing to do with what was best for her. They wanted to keep her away from a Kendal. “So, Garret has tried to see me?” She felt like dancing around the room. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her.
Mallory refused to meet her gaze, picking at her cap’s ruffled edge. “Well, actually, no, he hasn’t.” She took a step closer. “But he has been checking on your progress with the doctor. It’s the only time he’ll come out of that glass tower he mopes around in all day.”
“Oh.” Cara’s momentary elation plummeted and she sank onto the bed, then rested her hot cheek against the cool wooden bedpost. “How silly of me. Of course the Duke of Kendal has other matters that require his attention.”
Garret’s sister rolled her eyes, then plopped down onto the bed next to her. “I don’t know which is worse. Listening to him tell me that you’re better off without him, or you trying to pretend none of this matters.”
Mallory took Cara’s shoulders and turned her so that their noses almost touched, then raised her eyebrows. “I’ll save us both a lot of time. He’s in love with you and you’re in love with him. But if you don’t come with me now, he’s leaving.”
“Has he told you he loves me?”
“Told me?” Mallory fell back on the bed. “He didn’t have to tell me. I know my brother, and from the moment you came into our lives he hasn’t been able to think of anything but you. Even now he’s thinking of you. He’s decided that if he goes away, you’ll be able to take your rightful place in the Ton without his presence to remind Society of your upbringing.” She sat up. “At least that’s the reason he gave me. But I know better. He’s running away.”
“Why?”
“He’s afraid you can’t forgive him and he’s too proud to have his mistakes thrown in his face.”
She’d never do that. Granted, he had used questionable means to acquire her presence at Belcraven, but never once had she doubted his intent was honorable.
“But he saved me.” She put her hand to her neck, the slight tenderness reminding her of what might have been had Garret not arrived. A shiver passed through her and her stomach churned as she remembered the feel of Russell’s hands on her body.
Mallory’s mouth became a straight line as her gaze rested on Cara’s neck. “Yes, he did. And now it’s your turn to save him.”
“But, I don’t know what to say to him.”
Mallory stood and pulled Cara to her feet. “You’ll think of something.” She grabbed the cap off the bed, tugged it over her curls, and positioned it to shade her eyes. “Meet me at the entrance to the boxwood maze in twenty minutes. I have a carriage waiting.” She paused. “And try not to be seen. I don’t know if your brother would have you physically restrained, but it’s best not to take the chance.” She slipped out the door before Cara could ask any more questions.
Did she dare go to Garret? What if he truly didn’t want to see her? He was a duke and she was a . . . she didn’t know anymore. Her life had changed so dramatically.
Only one thing was certain, her Prince Charming wasn’t coming to her and if she wanted to see him again she had to storm the castle.
Garret strode down the hall, then opened the door to his bedroom. He froze in the entrance. There weren’t any trunks. He crossed the room and flung open his wardrobe. All his waistcoats and shoes were in their assigned locations. Anger buffeted him. It felt good after countless days of avoiding emotion.
What the hell was Timmons about, ignoring his command to pack with all due haste? It didn’t matter how many years they’d been together. This was unacceptable. He yanked on the bell pull, nearly taking it from its housing, then moved to the window and stood looking out onto Belcraven’s extensive gardens.
He started to run his hand over his chin, but stopped. So many years wasted. He’d thought he knew how to behave. But now. He had no idea who he was or even where he was going. One thing was clear.
Cara would be better off without him.
Look what he’d done to her with his arrogance. It was no wonder her brother had asked to have the betrothal papers so they could be destroyed. He yanked the contract from an inner pocket and a blue ribbon floated to the floor.
He swallowed, then bent to retrieve the faded piece of satin. Once again, he would be left with this as his reminder of Cara. He laid the contract on the nightstand and ran the soft fabric between his thumb and forefinger.
Unlike the last fourteen years, he would now be able to picture the beautiful woman she’d become and know he’d been the one to destroy what may have been. He closed his fist around the ribbon. His grandfather must be laughing in his grave at how well Garret had learned his lessons. He’d become the perfect duke. But at what cost?
Without warning, Timmons burst into the room, his wig askew and a red flush coloring his face. “I’m sorry, Your Grace. He refused to wait in the salon.”
A tall, elegantly dressed man, with a slightly haughty expression stepped around Timmons. “I was told you were leaving without concluding our business.”
“It’s fine, Timmons.” Garret waited until the butler had left before addressing his unwelcome guest. His intruder’s resemblance to Cara was amazing. “Lord Pemberton, I presume?” He almost smiled. Cara’s brother was just what he’d suspected he would be, a man used to getting his own way. His little ‘governess’ would have no better treatment at her brother’s hands, than she’d had at his.
“I’ve come to collect the contract. My sister will never have you now, so our business is at an end.”
There it was. Garret swallowed past the tightness in his chest. She’d never have him now. “Perhaps not, but I think I’ll retain the contract.”
Pemberton’s fist tightened on his walking stick. “I expected no better from a Kendal. You’re the image of your grandfather.”
“Actually, I’m not. If I were my grandfather, I’d have forced Lady Pemberton to accept my hand in marriage. Instead, I intend to hold on to the contract.” He turned, retrieved the agreement, placed the ribbon in his pocket, then schooled his features before facing Pemberton. “One day, she may find another she wishes to marry.” Despair circled around him at the thought, but he shoved it aside. “When she marries, it will be her choice, not mine—not yours.”
“Lord Pemberton.” Cara’s voice held the same tone she used to reprimand her children.
Lord Pemberton’s head snapped around at a most un-lordly pace before he collected himself and turned to face her. “Lady Cara, you shouldn’t be here.”
“Neither should you.” Her mouth became a straight line.
Pemberton clutched his cane again. “I must insist you leave. This doesn’t concern you.”
“If this doesn’t concern me,
then what will?” She came into the room, stopping inches from her brother, then laid her hand on his arm. “I know how you feel about the Kendals, but I’m asking you to let me decide my own happiness.”
At her request, Pemberton’s features softened.
So, his little governess may have more of a choice than he’d thought.
“I’ll wait in the carriage.” He turned and glared at Garret. “But she’s returning home with me.” With a final huff, he left the room.
Cara faced him, her hands worrying at the skirt on her dress. Her wide, golden-brown eyes roved over him as if she were trying to commit every detail of his person to memory.
“What are you doing here?” He hadn’t meant to sound harsh, but her presence cut through him. Why couldn’t he have left before she arrived? Damn, Timmons. And how much had she heard of the conversation with her brother?
“I . . . Mallory told me you were leaving.”
“I am.”
“Why?”
It was a simple question. One he didn’t want to answer. “I’m going to have to speak with Mallory.”
Cara moved closer to him. “Don’t be angry with her. I’m glad she told me.” The pleading expression in her eyes changed to sadness. “Would you really have gone without saying goodbye?”
He moved to the bay windows, then turned toward her, hoping his face showed the studied indifference he was trying so hard to feel. “I thought it best.”
Her gaze dropped to the parchment crushed in his hand.
“I was about to send the betrothal contract back with your brother.” The coldness in his voice frayed the edges of his soul, but he had to send her away. “As you’ve come uninvited, you can take it with you.”
Pain marred her features, but she squared her shoulders and came to within his grasp. “No, you weren’t.” With trembling fingers she took the worn contract from his hand, opened it, and studied its contents. “My brother would prefer that I marry someone else.”
Someone else holding her, basking in her love of life. Agony tore through him. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, think of that probability.
He took a deep breath, trying to get enough air in his lungs. The bruises on her neck had faded, but the bruises to his soul would never heal.
With deliberate slowness, she set the paper on the nightstand, then moved to within a foot of where he stood. “I won’t take the contract.”
His whole body responded to her nearness and when she reached out to trace the vertical line in his cheek, his upper body ached from the restraint he used to keep his arms at his side. Dear God, did she know what she was doing?
Her fingertip skimmed the crease, then she rested her palm against his chest. “Why?”
He stepped back, anger and humiliation coursing through him. “You saw what my grandfather did to your grandmother.”
“You aren’t your grandfather.”
“Perhaps not, but have you forgotten that I lied to you and nearly got you killed?”
She gave him a slight smile. “Papa always says that what you see depends on what you’re looking for.” Her curls bounced as she shook her head. “Do you want to know what I see when I look at you?” Her gaze grew soft. “I see a man who’s spent his whole life trying to be responsible. You’ve taken care of your siblings, allowed Rachel time with her beloved horses, and helped one of my students find her aunt, not to mention rescuing me.”
She turned away and clutched the back of a leather chair. “You lied to me, yes. But that was only to protect the Kendal name. Ultimately you brought me the thing I’ve wanted most—a family.” She faced him again. “How could I not love you?”
He expelled a long breath through his teeth. “You don’t understand. I’ve spent too many years trying to become my grandfather’s vision of a perfect duke. I don’t know if I can change now.”
Her smile warmed the coldness in his soul, chipping away at the granite that had shielded his emotions for so long.
“I don’t want you to change. In spite of the things you’ve had to do, you’ve always acted nobly. That’s what makes you a better man than your grandfather.”
“After Russell . . . after all that’s happened, I remembered my past. That day in the stable, you were very kind to a six-year-old girl.” A blush touched her cheeks as she lowered her gaze for a moment, then peered up at him through her long golden lashes. “I’ve dreamed of you since then. At least I thought it was a dream, but it turns out it was a memory.” She brushed a curl behind her ear. “I don’t know if you remember, but I gave you my hair ribbon as a favor and you asked me to wait for you.”
In that other lifetime, he’d felt entitled to happiness. “That was a long time ago.”
“You said you’d come back and marry me. You promised to be my knight. But a knight doesn’t desert his lady, no matter what task is forced upon him.” Her voice lowered to little more than a whisper. “When I gave you my favor, it seems I gave you my heart, and I’m going to hold you to your promise.”
She believed what she said. In her eyes, he was her knight.
“What if I disappoint you?”
“You might. But that simply proves you’re human.” She held out her hand. “It doesn’t mean I’ll love you any less.”
He’d faced the last fourteen years with courage. Was he going to show cowardice now? Instead of taking her hand, he reached into his pocket, then laid the blue ribbon across her palm. “I didn’t forget.” The satin draped over her fingers, creased and faded, but shining with a luster the years hadn’t been able to destroy.
Her eyes glistened with moisture. “You saved the ribbon. Even after all these years?”
“Sometimes I think that scrap of material was the only thing that kept me sane. You were everything that had once been good in my life.” He reached out and brushed her silky hair away from her temple. “You still are.”
Wonder shone on her face as she gazed at the ribbon, then back at him. She closed the distance between them very slowly, almost as if she doubted his reaction.
She rested her cheek against his chest and encircled his waist with her arms. With a groan, he captured her in his embrace and held her tight, breathing in the soft floral scent he loved. When her lips found his, he drowned in her softness. Her body melding to him, until he throbbed from wanting her.
Before he lost his tenuous control, he broke away. God help him, living without her was a hell he could no longer face. “Marry me. I may not be the easiest person to live with, but I’ll love you as no one else ever will.”
A sniffling noise behind them forced him to turn. “I’d ‘bout given up hope.” Mrs. Shaw filled the doorway, flanked by Timmons and Mallory. The cook dabbed her eyes with the corner of her apron. “After all you two ‘ave put us through”—she gave Cara a stern look—“you’d better say ‘yes.’”
He turned back to Cara and her eyes shone with mischief. “But a governess can’t marry a duke.”
“I’m a man first, or have you forgotten the theatre?” The picture of her lying naked on the bed came to mind causing his manhood to harden and press against his breeches. His thoughts must have shown on his face because she blushed.
Her voice fell to a whisper and she leaned toward him. “Garret, you wouldn’t mention that night . . .?”
He took her hand and brought her fingers to his lips. “You never answered my question. I asked you once before as a duke, but now I’m asking as a man. Marry me.”
“I’ll marry you, Garret, not your title.” She grinned at him. “I’ll just have to put up with your being a duke.”
A sense of joy and rightness filled him. She would be his.
“Well, now that’s done.” Mrs. Shaw swung around and flapped her hands until Mallory and Timmons retreated into the hall. “Give ‘em a little peace. Lord knows I could use it.” Her broad face wore a satisfied expression as she exited and closed the door.
Garret shook his head. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to the servants or my sister inter
fering in my personal affairs.” He drew Cara back into his arms. “But for your sake, I’ll try. Now, where were we? Ah, yes, I was about to prove to you that I’m an ordinary man.”
Her warm breath caressed his face and he just heard her whispered reply before he claimed her lips.
“My love, you could never be ‘ordinary.’”
Epilogue
The marble centaur pawed the air above Cara’s head. She loved this statue. She could almost imagine the creature’s defiance toward any who dared doubt his existence. The chiseled lines of his proud face displayed strength and control. Very like her new husband.
A thrill passed through her as Garret placed his hand at the small of her back and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Come, my love. I have something to show you.”
“We can’t leave now. What about our guests?”
His green eyes seemed almost crystalline and the expression in their depths made her swallow. How could he make her feel tingly with just a look?
He cupped her cheek. “Timmons will see to them.”
Visions of Garret in the theatre rose in her memory, heating her face. It was impossible to think with him so close. She stepped away, the filmy material and drape of the princess style gown Tess had fashioned as a wedding gift suddenly made her feel almost naked in the cool evening air.
She glanced at Timmons. Garret was right about the servant’s ability. The valet was in his element. Thanks in part to Michael, who appeared striking in his Kendal Livery. The older man was barking orders with a frown, and Michael was imitating his mentor as he followed him around the grounds.
Actually, Timmons wasn’t nearly as noticeable as usual; his wig was not as high and he’d chosen a pale shade of pink powder. Cara suspected Mrs. Shaw—Mrs. Timmons, now—had used her influence. Life was certainly much calmer since they’d decided they’d didn’t hate each other.
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