“Quickly, Beckham,” she said. “My mother needs me, and I don’t wish to keep her waiting.” She rose from her bed, pleased to have a focus for her attention. She definitely needed something to drive the thought of Lord Gresham from her treacherous mind.
Not an hour later she was shown into a sitting room in Gravesmere House, where she found her mother comfortably seated, a book in her hand.
“Caro, dear,” she said.
“Mother, whatever is it that you need?” asked Caroline, dropping a kiss on Emily’s cheek and seating herself beside her. “Pray tell me that Adam isn’t filling your head with his nonsense.”
“What nonsense?” asked Emily. “I haven’t seen Adam yet today.”
“Oh, ‘tis nothing,” said Caroline airily. “As I said, it was nonsense.”
“Are the two of you quarreling again?” asked Emily.
“I never quarrel,” said Caroline firmly. “It is simply that Adam is overbearing at times.”
“I have no intention of interfering,” said Emily. “For once this has nothing to do with Adam or Allegra. I received a letter from my younger sister, Amabel. She means to send her daughter Cecilia to London for some weeks, to be introduced to Society.”
“Aunt Amabel? I thought she found Society to be ridiculous and pretentious!” exclaimed Caroline.
“I believe she does, but she she’s not blind to the needs of her daughter to make a handsome marriage. Her family barely has two coins to rub together,” observed Emily. “I’m sure she’s very happy, but our father cut her off without a penny when she chose to marry an untitled gentleman rather than a marquis. She says that Cecilia is lovely and charming, and that the young men in their neighborhood are not worthy of her. Therefore, she begs me to present her this Season.”
“Oh dear,” said Caroline. “I hope she’s very lovely and very charming; a well-born but unknown young woman with no fortune will find it hard to make a good match. When is she arriving?”
“In a little over a week!” said Emily. “Caroline, I don’t think I’m well enough to introduce a young woman to Society, and while Allegra is a dear, she is frightfully scatterbrained, not to mention having no thoughts for anyone but Adam and their child. Might you...”
“Oh, Mother, no,” breathed Caroline. “Surely you can’t wish me to take this unknown young woman under my wing? I haven’t seen Cecilia since she was a babe.”
“But it would be perfect,” said Emily. “You are admired throughout the ton as the finest example of good breeding and good sense. A young lady introduced to the world under your auspices would have the entrée to all the best parties, and no one would think for a moment that she could be anything less than charming. I’m sure your sterling reputation would go a long way to erasing the memory of her mother’s lapse in marrying for love.”
“You make me sound very dull,” complained Caroline. “Surely the world doesn’t think of me as merely serious and staid!”
“Oh, not at all,” said Emily hastily. “But you cannot deny that you are all that is proper and elegant. Not a breath of scandal has ever touched your name. Everyone admires you.”
“I sound like a dead bore,” said Caroline. She paused a moment. “I danced with Lord Gresham last night,” she announced suddenly.
“What?” Emily stared at her. “Whatever are you talking about?”
“I can’t be respectable as all that; I danced with Lord Gresham last night. Adam was furious.”
“And well he might be,” said Emily. “Whatever got into you?”
“He asked,” said Caroline flatly. “And I said yes. And we danced. So, I am not entirely to be admired.”
Emily shook her head. “Whatever are you going on about? As though one dance with Gresham would affect your reputation. As I said previously, you are much admired by all for your sense and intelligence. Please Caroline, you must take on Cecilia. I cannot possibly attend all the parties and balls that would be required, and the mere thought of paying afternoon calls leaves me exhausted.”
Caroline gazed at her mother. It was clear that this duty was not to be avoided, and that her one minor lapse was not enough to make others think of her as anything but the most suitable possible chaperone for an inexperienced girl making her debut. “Very well, I will do this, Mother. But Allegra must be of some help, and if she does not make a match this year I cannot host her again next Season. I too have a child, and responsibilities.”
“Thank you, darling.” Emily hugged her. “It is so good to know I have a daughter who is utterly reliable. I adore Adam and Allegra, but one cannot always depend upon them. It is such a relief to have you to turn to.”
“Indeed,” murmured Caroline, slightly depressed by the picture of a staid, utterly predictable matron her mother was painting. “Pray, write to Aunt Amabel and have Cecelia directed to my house. I will do my best to find her a suitable husband.”
On the short carriage ride to from Gravesmere House to her own cozy home Caroline pondered her meeting with her mother. While she was vexed by having to suddenly take on a young and unmarried woman whom she barely knew, she was far more bothered by the portrait her mother had painted of her. Was she truly perceived only as a paragon of virtue? She wrinkled her nose and tried to think of something she had done recently that was less than wholly admirable. Outside of her dance with Lord Gresham, nothing came to mind. She sighed.
“My lady?”
Caroline started and looked up to see her footman holding the door of the carriage open. She had arrived at her home. “Oh, thank you, Thomas,” she said, and gracefully alit, walking up the stairs to her door with a firm step. She entered her spacious hall and stripped off her gloves, handing them to the butler.
“Thank you, Bunton,” she said. “I’ll be in my sitting room.”
Bunton bowed politely as she turned and mounted the stairs, lost in thought. She wandered into the sitting room and paused; something was different. Then she realized that a bouquet of jonquils brightened the atmosphere, and that next to it lay a sealed missive. She picked it up and looked at it curiously. It was directed to her in a strong, masculine hand. Puzzled, she broke the seal and opened it.
“My dear Lady Eskmaine,” she read,
“Please accept these humble flowers as my thanks to you for deigning to dance with me yesterday evening. It was an honor I scarcely deserved. I trust that your brother had no further harsh words for you, and that you can forgive me for subjecting you to his anger. It is a pity he does not appreciate you more fully; I would not make the same mistake.
If you should ever have need of me, I would be glad to be of service.
Your most obedient and most humble servant,
Gresham
Caroline read the letter a second time with growing amazement, and then hastily folded it, clasping it in her hands. She reached out and touched one of the jonquils with a slender finger, and then pulled her hand back, startled at her own sentimentality. Clearly Lord Gresham had decided that last night’s mischief had not sufficiently annoyed Adam, and he meant to attempt to entangle her in some snare for his own purposes. She strode purposefully to the grate, where a small fire burned and tossed the missive in, watching the edges turn dark and then the paper flare into ash.
“What nonsense,” she said out loud. “As though I would ever need Lord Gresham.” She turned her back on the nodding yellow flowers and strode with a determined step to her desk, where she was soon immersed in correspondence, resolutely driving the scandalous baron from her thoughts.
Chapter 3
A few mornings after the ball at Devonshire House, Lord Gresham lounged in a chair at the Chapter Coffee-House, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his hands resting idly on the table. Across from him, Anthony Belvoir and Lord William Malknight were arguing vehemently about the formation of the League of Armed Neutrality. As neither gentleman appeared to have a clear notion of the reason for the League, their conversation was unenlightening, though vociferous. Gresham shook h
is head and reached for his coffee, draining it.
“I’m off to Oxford Street to see my tailor,” he declared, and rose lazily to his feet.
“Are you afraid that the ladies are weary of what you’re wearing, Tristan?” Mr. Belvoir asked.
Gresham gave him a sardonic glance. “In my experience, the ladies are far less interested in my clothing than with what’s inside it,” he replied. He cast a critical glance at the cut of his friend’s coat. “But I can recommend a change of tailors to you, Anthony.”
Despite the cutting words, his tone was humorous, and the company laughed as he departed. He strolled leisurely to Oxford Street, stopping occasionally to speak to acquaintances. After spending an hour with the cordwainer explaining his requirements for a new pair of hunting boots, he departed the shop, intending to go next to his tailor’s. But his attention was caught by the sight of an elegant woman, dressed in a modish gown of celadon green, walking some paces ahead of him, her maid in attendance. A small white hat trimmed with a ruffle around its brim and lace on its surface just covered the top of her queenly head, allowing him to see her guinea-gold hair pinned beneath it, a few loose ringlets dropping to her shoulders. A fetching white plume, anchored to the brim with a bow of matching celadon silk ribbon, curled over the confection gracefully.
Gresham watched with interest as the woman turned into a modiste’s establishment. On an impulse, he followed her, pausing at the window to watch as an assistant selected several rolls of fabric for Lady Eskmaine’s attention, and then, without stopping to further consider his actions, entered the shop.
Caroline gazed critically at the roll of rose pink silk spread out before her. Her mother had told her that Cecelia had dark hair and fair skin, and she fancied that this shade would look lovely on her. She sighed. Assembling a proper wardrobe for a young woman about to make her debut was not something she had anticipated. Caroline’s taste in clothing ran to the simple and sophisticated, and a girl looking for a husband dressed in a decidedly different manner. Cecilia hadn’t even arrived in London, and she was already turning Caroline’s life upside down.
“I wouldn’t recommend that color,” observed a deep voice. “You look far more becoming in green.”
Caroline raised her head to see Lord Gresham standing across from her, his long fingers gently stroking a bolt of emerald silk.
“Lord Gresham,” she said calmly, determined not to let him know he had startled her. “Your advice is always excellent, but I am not intending to purchase this for myself.”
“Blue would be preferable for the Duchess of Gravesmere,” he responded blandly. “It would bring out her lovely eyes.”
Caroline favored him with a smug smile. “Once again you are incorrect,” she said. “This is not for the duchess.”
Gresham moved to her side of the table and looked down at her, his expression betraying amusement. “For whom are you shopping then?”
“Why would I tell you that?” asked Caroline, fighting the urge to move a step away. She would not let him know that she felt his presence so acutely. “My actions can hardly concern you.”
“I presume you’re shopping for a woman, and my taste in feminine dress is usually held to be excellent. I’m sure I would be a more able assistant than the modiste.” His eyes brimmed with laughter.
Caroline felt an unbidden answering laugh rise in her throat. “You are teasing me. I thank you, Lord Gresham, but I can manage on my own.”
“Ah, it is a challenge. The dowager duchess, perhaps?” he continued, unperturbed. When Caroline’s expression did not change, he shook his head. “No. Not the dowager. Ah, I have it. The country cousin who is coming to visit.”
“How do you know about that?” demanded Caroline.
“I make it my business to know what happens around town,” said Lord Gresham. “My reputation for omniscience is thereby enhanced. But it is hardly a secret; the whole town talks of her arrival, and whether Gravesmere will provide her with a handsome marriage portion to make up for his aunt’s inexplicable lapse in marrying for love.”
“Have people nothing else to discuss than the doings of my family?” asked Caroline. “It is too tedious.”
“But your family is so fascinating,” countered Lord Gresham. “Your brother and his bride are so profligate with their emotions, and you are so…,” he broke off.
“So what?” asked Caroline, an edge to her voice.
“So lovely,” provided Lord Gresham, his eyes twinkling.
“Don’t try to gammon me. What were you going to say?” demanded Caroline.
“Only that you are known for your intelligence and common sense,” said Lord Gresham meekly.
Caroline sighed.
Lord Gresham raised an eyebrow at the expression of disappointment on her face. “It is a compliment,” he said gently. “I know you don’t approve of your brother’s and his wife’s emotional displays.”
“And I thank you for it,” said Caroline briskly. “However, Lord Gresham, if you don’t mind, I should continue with my errands.”
She bent towards the fabric again, and he looked down at her modish hat with an amused expression on his face.
“You haven’t mentioned the posey I sent you,” he said.
“Oh! Indeed, how thoughtless of me. It was very kind of you, Lord Gresham, to think of me. But I have so little time now for frivolous things such as flowers.”
“Not at all,” he said. “As you realized, the jonquils made me think of you. They were so fresh and lovely.”
Caroline glanced up at him sharply. “You seem to be full of compliments today, Lord Gresham, but I believe I can manage without you.”
“Ah, but do you want to? There are many things we can do on our own, but having companionship is so often preferable.”
“Lord Gresham, it pleases you to amuse yourself at my expense, but I have many things to attend to before the arrival of my cousin. Please leave me in peace.”
“My apologies for bothering you, ma’am.” His voice was unexpectedly gentle, and she looked up to see him regarding her with sympathy. “I did not mean to vex you. I truly enjoy your company, Lady Eskmaine; it is rare to find someone, male or female, with such a quick wit and excellent understanding, and so I seek you out to relieve my boredom. But I would never want to make you unhappy.”
“I am not unhappy, only busy,” she said. “Perhaps another time.”
“I take that as a promise,” he responded. He picked up her hand and pressed it gently. “If you should need anything, at any time, you have only to send for me.”
Caroline snatched her hand back; she fancied she could feel the warmth of his fingers through the thin leather of her glove. “I hardly think that I will have time for anything else while my cousin is in London, and you know very well that any conversation we might have would only make my brother unhappy.”
“You are, as always, a paragon of practicality,” Lord Gresham replied. “However, should you ever wish to engage in any frivolous activities, do inform me. I am always at your service.”
He bowed politely; when she glanced at his face the expression in his eyes had turned from concern to boredom. As he turned to exit the shop, she opened her mouth to call him back. But since she had no idea what she might say to him should he return, she turned back to the bolt of silk with a silent sigh.
“Gracious, was that Lord Gresham?”
Caroline closed her eyes for moment, reining in her temper, and then looked up to see Mrs. Adderley, a notorious gossip, staring at her avidly.
“It was indeed,” she said.
“I heard he had returned from the Continent. How handsome he is, and he has such an air about him! There are such stories about his doings; tell me, is he as charming as they say he is?” Blatant curiosity shone in Mrs. Adderley’s eyes.
“As I have no idea precisely how charming Lord Gresham is held to be, I cannot be a judge,” said Caroline acidly. “He does have excellent manners.”
“Well, I hav
e to say that I am jealous of you, as he seemed to be greatly interested. So many ladies will envy you, and of course, all the mothers will be in despair that he prefers you to their daughters!”
“I hardly think he shows a distinct preference for me, though I know he has none at all for young and virtuous daughters,” said Caroline. “We were briefly acquainted two years ago, and he was thus merely being polite.”
“Ah, so that is it. I had to say I was surprised that he seemed to be so epris in your direction. After all, you are unlikely to…,” Mrs. Adderley stopped, confusion on her face.
“Unlikely to what?” asked Caroline, a dangerous edge to her voice.
“I did not mean to offend you, dear Lady Eskmaine! It is just that Lord Gresham is known for admiring, well, a particular sort of woman, and you would never be mistaken for that sort of woman!” rejoined Mrs. Adderley, her confusion evident. “I would not want you to think that I would think that you would do anything unseemly!”
Caroline glared at her. “No, I would indeed be unlikely to do anything unseemly. And now, if your curiosity is assuaged, may I return to my errand?”
Mrs. Adderley backed away, not wishing to further offend Lady Eskmaine. “By all means. Please, do not give it another thought!”
“I won’t,” said Caroline dryly.
But a few minutes later she left the shop, her brow furrowed and the pink silk forgotten. Her encounter with Lord Gresham had left her bemused; the range of emotions he evoked, from anticipation, to amusement, to annoyance, to disappointment, unsettled her. And Mrs. Adderley’s open curiosity, combined with her inability to imagine why a rake such as Lord Gresham might be talking to the prim Lady Eskmaine, rankled. Caroline paused and gazed at herself in a shop window. She saw a very stylishly dressed woman, perhaps a bit taller than was fashionable, but with a fine figure, large green eyes, a straight nose and quantities of rich golden hair.
Sense & Sensuality: Caroline's After Dark Georgian Romance (The Gravesmeres Book 3) Page 3