“What a stir you’ll cause if you pursue her. If her father isn’t titled … Well, it simply isn’t done. Remember your position.”
“And you therefore condemn it?” Bradford asked the question with quiet interest.
“I do not. I would support your cause. She saved my life.”
Bradford raised an eyebrow and his friend hurried to answer his unspoken question. “She came upon the rascals and shot the gun right out of the leader’s hand. Just seconds before he was going to shoot me.”
“I’ve no doubt that she was capable of doing just that,” Bradford commented.
“Injured another one in the shoulder.”
“Did you notice how she evaded my questions?”
Mr. Smith began to chuckle. “I didn’t think it was possible to see you smile, Bradford, and yet this day I have seen you do nothing else. The ton will be agog with speculation. You won’t have an easy time of it with the chit. I envy you the challenge.”
Bradford didn’t reply but turned and again stared off into the distance, toward the curve in the road where the threesome had disappeared.
“She’s going to cause quite a reaction when the fashionable ladies see her. Did you notice the color of her eyes? You’ll have to fight for her attention, Bradford. My God, man, will you look at my boots!”
The Duke of Bradford ignored the request. And then he began to laugh. “Well, Brummell, do you dare cut her?”
Chapter Two
THE HIRED CARRIAGE ROLLED ALONG AT A STEADY PACE back into London. Benjamin, suspicious of the coachman’s disrespect for his duties, decided to ride beside the man to oversee his actions.
Caroline and Charity sat opposite each other inside the vehicle, and after Charity had talked herself out, they lapsed into a thoughtful silence.
Charity wasn’t usually so nervous. Caroline understood that the excited chatter was a necessary outlet from the tremendous strain she was under. While Caroline kept her own council, she was privy to Charity’s every thought. That wasn’t any particular honor, for her cousin liked to share anything and everything with just about everyone. Her mother said that Charity was quicker at spreading the latest news than the Boston Journal.
Caroline was the complete opposite of Charity, known as the quiet, shy cousin, and had accepted long ago that it just wasn’t in her nature to confide. Unlike her cousin, Caroline bore her burdens alone.
“I wish we had a plan to put into immediate action, now that we have finally arrived in England,” Charity stated with a rush. She was twisting her hands together, making a fine mess of the pink gloves she held. “I’m counting on you to tell me how to proceed.”
“Charity, we’ve been over this again and again. I know that it goes against your disposition, but do try to stop worrying. You’ll grow old and wrinkled before your time.” Caroline’s voice was gentle but firm. “You know that I’ll help you. But in return you must promise to use caution.”
“Yes. Caution! That is the key. If only I had a portion of your confidence, Lynnie,” she said, using Caroline’s nickname from childhood. “You’re always so calm, so controlled.” Charity sighed again, a long drawn-out affair that caused her cousin to smile. Charity was certainly given to theatrics. “But what if I find that he is married?”
Caroline decided it was best not to answer. She wouldn’t be able to keep the anger and frustration out of her voice, and that would set Charity off into another fit of tears. Caroline, after such a long journey, didn’t think she was up to it.
Men! They were all scoundrels, except for her dear cousins, of course. Why sweet, loving Charity had given her heart to an Englishman was beyond Caroline’s imagination. There were plenty of suitors fighting for Charity’s attention right in Boston, but her cousin had to choose one from halfway around the world. The Englishman, Paul Bleachley, had been visiting Boston when the two accidentally met, and Charity insisted that she had fallen instantly in love. The only part of that nonsense that Caroline believed was the fact that she had fallen. Charity hadn’t been wearing her spectacles and had literally toppled on top of Paul Bleachley when she rounded the corner of Chestnut Street in the town square.
The relationship had lasted six weeks and had been most intense. Charity had vowed her love and confided to Caroline that Bleachley had done the same. She believed that the Englishman was honorable in his intentions, even after his sudden disappearance.
She was terribly naive. But Caroline wasn’t so easily taken in. She and the rest of the family hadn’t even met the man. Each time a date for dinner was set, Paul Bleachley had other duties to attend to at the last minute.
Caroline’s suspicions that the Englishman had been merely toying with her cousin’s affections increased tenfold when she began to make discreet inquiries around town. Charity had mentioned that Bleachley was in Boston visiting his relatives, yet no one in the close-knit community had ever heard of the man.
Bleachley’s disappearance coincided with the night of the terrible explosion in Boston’s harbor. Three English ships and two American vessels had been completely destroyed. While Caroline didn’t voice her suspicions, and had no proof, she was convinced that Paul Bleachley was somehow involved in the treachery.
The family had been relieved when Bleachley disappeared. They all assumed that he had returned to England and that Charity would soon get over her infatuation. But they were mistaken in that belief. Charity had been overwhelmed with grief when she finally accepted that Bleachley had deserted her. She vowed repeatedly, until even Caroline believed her, that she would find out what had happened and why.
“I’m ashamed of myself,” Charity said, interrupting Caroline’s thoughts. “You’ve never mentioned a word about your worry while I have gone on and on about my worries.”
“I don’t have any worries,” Caroline protested.
Charity shook her head and showed her exasperation. “You haven’t seen your father in fourteen years and you’re not at all worried? Don’t try to fool me, Caroline. You have to be upset! Your father has turned your life upside down and you act like it isn’t even significant.”
“Charity, there isn’t anything I can do about it,” Caroline returned, letting her irritation show.
“Ever since the letter arrived you’ve been hiding behind a mask. I know you must be upset! I was so angry with your father. You belong with my family, not with a man you don’t even remember.”
Caroline nodded, remembering the bitter scene that had taken place in her Boston home when she and Charity had returned from their morning ride. The rest of the family had all been waiting for them, their expressions grim.
Charity’s mother had cried and carried on something awful, vowing that Caroline was as much her daughter as Charity was. She had raised her since the age of four, hadn’t she? And Caroline had called her Mama for as long as she could remember. Charity’s father had been more disciplined, more determined, as he told her very matter-of-factly that she must return to England.
“Do you think he would have really come after you, as he threatened in his letter?” Charity asked.
“Yes,” Caroline answered with a sigh. “We had run out of excuses,” she added. “My father must think me terribly fragile. You know that each time he requested my return, your mother would write about some new ailment I had contracted. I do believe the only disease she didn’t fabricate was the plague, and only because she didn’t think of it.”
“But he didn’t want you for the longest time. And he gave you to us.”
“It was only meant to be a temporary arrangement,” Caroline returned. “I don’t understand what happened, but after my mother died, my father couldn’t seem to take care of me and he—”
“He is an earl,” Charity interrupted. “He could have hired someone to look after you. And why would he want you to return now, after such a long time? None of it makes sense.”
“I only have a little longer to find out the answers,” Caroline stated.
“Caroline,
do you remember any of that early time? My earliest memory was when I was six years old and I fell out of Brewster’s loft.”
“No, all my memories start with Boston,” Caroline answered. She felt her stomach tighten up and wished to stop the conversation.
“Well, I don’t understand why you don’t hate the man. Don’t look at me that way. I know it’s wrong to hate, but your papa obviously didn’t want you and now, after fourteen years, he has changed his mind. He hasn’t considered your feelings at all.”
“I have to believe that my father did what he thought was best,” Caroline returned.
“Caimen was so furious over your leaving,” Charity stated, referring to her oldest brother.
“I must remember that I owe your parents and your brothers a debt and must not get angry,” Caroline stated. Her words sounded like a vow. “Anger and hate are destructive emotions and neither will change the facts.”
Charity frowned and shook her head. “I don’t understand your mild acceptance. You’ve always had a plan. Tell me what you will do. It isn’t like you to meekly accept anything. You’re a charger … not a sitter.”
“A sitter?” Caroline chuckled over her cousin’s choice of descriptions.
“You know what I mean. You don’t sit around, you charge.”
“Well, I had thought that I’d allow one full year with my father. I owe that to him. And I will try to like him too. Then I will, of course, return to Boston.”
“What if your father won’t allow it?” Charity started twisting her gloves again and Caroline hurried to soothe her.
“I have to believe that if I am truly discontent, he’ll let me go back to Boston. Don’t frown, Charity. It’s my only hope. Please don’t try to sway my faith.”
“I can’t help it. Heavens, he could marry you off before you’re even settled in.”
“That would be unkind and I can’t believe he’d do such a thing.”
“Did you hear Caimen tell Luke and Justin that he would follow you and bring you back to Boston if you haven’t returned within six months?”
Caroline nodded. “I did,” she replied. “And George, always so shy and self-contained, why, he said the same thing. Your brothers are very loyal to me.”
Caroline found herself smiling over the picture of her cousins. She remembered again to try to count herself fortunate for having been given so much time with them. She believed that her nature was a result of their influence. She resembled Charity’s brother Caimen in appearance and quick temper, mimicked George’s shyness at times, had Justin’s sense of fair play and Luke’s most unusual sense of humor.
“We should have written to your father first and then waited until we were sure that the letter had reached him before leaving Boston,” Charity remarked.
Caroline smiled. “You have a convenient memory, Charity. As soon as your mama gave you permission to accompany me, you insisted that we leave immediately.”
“That was only because Caimen was trying to convince Mama that I shouldn’t go,” Charity explained. Her voice sounded like she was trying to explain something complex to a simpleminded person. She sighed, showing her exasperation with Caroline, and then asked, “Who was that tall man helping you with the injured gentleman?” The turn of topics confused Caroline and Charity continued ahead. “He certainly was handsome.”
“He was not handsome.” Caroline snapped out her denial, surprised by the irritation she felt. “I mean I did not find him attractive in the least.”
“You can’t be serious! Even without my spectacles on I could see that he was quite exceptional.”
“Enough. The man was arrogant,” Caroline informed her cousin. Her tone sounded lofty but she didn’t care. “We’ll probably never see him again and that is just as well.”
Charity gave her cousin a puzzled look and then said, “Such a large man, and he had the most wonderful blue eyes.”
“They were dark brown, not blue, with little flecks of gold in them,” Caroline replied before she could catch herself.
Charity laughed. “You do find him handsome. I tricked you. I knew his eyes weren’t blue,” she stated with a show of satisfaction. “But I did notice his hair,” she continued, ignoring Caroline’s irritated expression. “It’s in need of a trim and somewhat curly.”
“Not overly,” Caroline stated with a shrug of indifference.
“He frightened me a little,” Charity admitted. “He seemed so—”
“Powerful?” Caroline interjected. Charity nodded and Caroline continued, “His name is Bradford and I don’t want to talk about him anymore. Did you find the missing glass for your spectacles?”
“Yes, I gave it to Ben. He promises to fix it when we arrive at your father’s townhouse. Powerful is just the right word, I do believe. This Bradford fellow won’t be easily led,” Charity concluded with a knowing nod.
“What are you talking about?”
“Just that you won’t be able to lead him around the way you do Clarence.”
“I don’t lead Clarence anywhere,” Caroline protested. “We are just friends.”
“Clarence follows you like a puppy,” Charity stated. “He’s too weak for you. Even Caimen says so. You need someone strong or else you’ll run him into the ground.”
“You’re talking nonsense,” Caroline answered. She was stung by Charity’s casual remarks about her character.
“You just wait. I saw the way Mr. Bradford was looking at you. I do believe he’ll try to pursue you. Yes, I do,” she hurried on when Caroline opened her mouth to protest. “When you fall in love, someone strong, like Mr. Bradford, will win your heart, and then your attitude will change. You won’t want to be so independent then. Of course, it wouldn’t do for you to fall in love with an Englishman, since you’ve vowed to return to Boston.”
Caroline absolutely refused to reply to her cousin’s absurd remarks. She had no intention of falling in love with anyone. Lack of sleep was catching up with her and Charity’s ridiculous comments were driving her to distraction.
The trip from Boston to London’s port had seemed to take forever. Caroline had quickly acquired her sea legs, or so the captain of the vessel had complimented, but Charity and Benjamin hadn’t been as fortunate. Caroline had spent a good deal of time taking care of upset stomachs and soothing irritated tempers. It had proved to be an exhausting task.
They had slept on board the vessel the night before and, in the morning, sent word to the Earl of Braxton of their arrival. A messenger returned, stating that the earl was currently in residence at his country estate, a three-hour ride from London. Caroline determined to settle into the townhouse and send a message to her father announcing her arrival, but Charity, impatient of nature, had insisted that they hire a carriage and proceed to his country home.
“We are here at last!” Charity cried when they reached the townhouse. Her voice was filled with excitement and she didn’t look the least bit tired. That irritated Caroline almost as much as her cousin’s nervous chatter.
Charity was leaning out the carriage window, squinting up at the house, and Caroline was forced to tug on her arm so that the door could be opened.
“I knew it would be a beautiful home,” Charity exclaimed. “Your father is an earl, after all. Oh, Caroline, are you very nervous?”
“Of course not. My father isn’t here,” she commented as she examined the fashionable brick town-house in front of her. She had to admit that it did look terribly impressive. There were several long, rectangular windows facing front and each was trimmed in ivory paint, providing a nice contrast against the red brick. Ivory-colored drapes scalloped the sides of each window, giving the house a dignified and regal appearance.
The front door was three steps up from the walkway and was also painted ivory. There was an ornate black door knocker, with gold inlay, centered on the wood, but as Caroline reached up to touch it, the door opened.
The man Caroline assumed to be the butler was as impressive as the house he guarded. Dress
ed all in black and without even a white cravat to soften the effect, he maintained an expression that was totally devoid of emotion until Caroline identified herself as the daughter to the Earl of Braxton. His expression changed then and he smiled up at her, for he was barely an inch taller than little Charity, and though Caroline thought it was a puny half-smile at the most, it seemed sincere.
He welcomed the three of them inside, introduced himself as Deighton, and explained with an important air that he was the earl’s man. He told them that he had only just arrived ahead of the earl to oversee the servants as they reopened the house for the coming season. The earl would be arriving by nightfall. They would have missed the earl had they continued on to his country estate, Caroline realized.
The house bustled with activity. Caroline felt in the way as servants hurried from one room to another with dustcloths and pails of water in their hands.
She soon appreciated Deighton’s no-nonsense attitude. He proved to be extremely efficient and had two maids seeing to the unpacking within minutes. The house boasted a large study and five bedrooms above the stairs, and Caroline and Charity were given adjoining rooms.
After Caroline had strolled through the rooms on the second floor, she accompanied Benjamin up to the third level to see that his bedroom was satisfactory. She left him to his unpacking and returned to the second floor and helped Charity locate her second pair of spectacles.
Caroline left Charity overseeing the unpacking of her treasures. She felt restless and out of sorts and knew the cause. Her father would be arriving before nightfall and she was worried about his reaction to her. Would he be as affectionate in person as he was in his letters? Would he be pleased or disappointed in her appearance? Would he like her? And just as important, would she like him?
She paused at the door to the impressive library at the top of the steps and glanced inside. The room was polished and spotless. It wasn’t a room that invited warmth. Was her father as stark as his library?
Julie Garwood Page 4