Gayle Buck

by The Hidden Heart

  “No, I forbid you to have regrets so soon, Caro.” Lord Trilby slanted a quizzical glance at her. “Surely I am not so poor a suitor as that?”

  Lady Caroline felt a shortening of breath. It was ridiculous what he could do to her with just a look. She attempted to make light of her feelings. “Oh, no, you could never be that, Miles. I do rate you a trifle higher than poor Lord Hathaway.”

  Lord Trilby laughed. He raised her fingers to his lips for the lightest of salutes, then released her hand. “Thank you for that much at least, my lady!”

  Then his expression sobered a little. “I would appreciate it very much if you would come back to Walmesley with me this morning.”

  “Oh, dear. So soon?” Lady Caroline asked, dismayed. A rueful light entered her eyes as she watched the slow lazy smile enliven his face. “In for a penny, in for a pound. I cannot very well back down now, can I?”

  “No, you most certainly cannot,” Lord Trilby said firmly.

  “Wretch! Very well, I shall make myself presentable to meet this most intimidating relation of yours. I shall rejoin you in the downstairs hall in a few moments, my lord.”

  Lord Trilby bowed her out of the drawing room. Lady Caroline paused in the entry hall only long enough to request of a footman that her carriage be ready for her use in a quarter-hour.

  Lady Caroline was aware that Lord Trilby stood watching while she climbed the stairs. She was glad when she turned the corner of the staircase and thus became hidden from his lordship’s sight.

  There was a strange churning in the pit of her stomach that she knew had nothing to do with indigestion. She also knew that if she stopped to think about it she would likely feel even worse, so instead of allowing herself a few moments of reflection when she reached her bedroom, as she had intended, she called immediately for her maid to help her change.

  However, it was not so easy to put aside the whirling thoughts and speculations that rose to her mind. She knew the course that she had embarked upon courted disaster. She dreaded what must come, yet there was also an almost uncontrollable urge in her to give in to giddy laughter.

  “What we need here is a liberal dose of courage and steady nerves,” she told herself.

  “What was that, my lady?”

  Lady Caroline realized that she had spoken aloud and that her maid was regarding her with a puzzled expression. “Never mind, Spencer. Let me have the green carriage dress, if you please. Oh, and I shall want you to accompany me to Walmesley.”

  The maid had busied herself with locating the required carriage dress and the other things that her mistress would require for a drive on a cool autumn day, but at her mistress’s words she paused. “Walmesley, my lady?”

  Lady Caroline looked at her maid’s reflection in the cheval glass, continuing to unbutton her cuffs. “Yes, Spencer.” She offered no explanation and simply waited for whatever comment her henchwoman chose to make.

  “Will Mrs. Burlington be joining you, my lady?”

  A brief smile touched Lady Caroline’s face. “No, my aunt will remain at Berwicke.”

  “Very good, my lady.”

  Spencer kept to herself the conviction that something of moment was to be marked by this unprecedented expedition. To her memory, Lady Caroline had never made a formal call at Walmesley, always preferring to ride over with only her groom in attendance on the infrequent occasion that the Earl of Walmesley had been in residence.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lady Caroline returned downstairs attired in a hunter-green velvet carriage dress and matching bonnet. A silk-and-wool Norwich shawl was draped over her elbows and she was pulling on her gloves. Her reticule dangled from one slender wrist.

  Not for the first time Lord Trilby observed her lovely face and figure with appreciation and enjoyed the innate grace of her movements. She presented a glowing picture of all that he found most attractive in a woman, and he felt the warmth that she invariably inspired in him. But as always, his pleasure in her appearance was tempered by an instinctive withdrawal and the hardening of his inner defenses.

  He had never stopped to ponder why Lady Caroline Eddington had always affected him so oddly. It was enough to realize that she did so and hold a part of himself forever aloof from her charm.

  He went to her as she descended the last step. He spared only a glance for the cloaked maid who followed in Lady Caroline’s wake, but he approved of her foresight. Lady Caroline had supplied herself with the requisite companion that must accompany a well-bred lady when she paid a morning call. The Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits would naturally expect an unattached lady to conform to the conventions.

  “You are in very fine looks, my lady,” Lord Trilby said.

  Lady Caroline cocked her head. She murmured quietly, for his ears only, “Indeed, and what else should I be when steeling myself to meet my fate?”

  The earl laughed. His eyes were warm with rueful appreciation. “Quite. But I believe it is both our fates that you hold in your hand. I hope you are a good actress, my lady.”

  “So do I,” Lady Caroline said with feeling.

  Lord Trilby laughed again and drew her fingers through his elbow. “Come, it is time we were off. I shall have you back in time for dinner, I promise you.”

  Lady Caroline left quiet word with one of the footmen to let Mrs. Burlington know that she would not be in to luncheon, and accompanied the earl out the front door to where her carriage was waiting.

  The maid, knowing what was required of her, lifted her skirts in one hand and climbed up into the coach to take the seat with its back to the horses.

  Lord Trilby handed Lady Caroline up the iron step and saw that she was comfortably seated. Then he stepped back, closed the carriage door, and latched it.

  Lady Caroline instantly put down the window. “My lord, you are not riding, surely?”

  He looked up at her, his face taken by a sudden grin. “The grandduchess is a very high stickler. Unmarried ladies do not share their carriages with equally unattached gentlemen,” he said with a shrug. He thought he heard an unladylike groan, quickly stifled as the window was raised, and he laughed.

  Lord Trilby took the reins of his stallion from the groom who held them and stepped up into the saddle. He signaled the coach driver to whip up, and nudged his mount to follow the carriage.

  The drive to Walmesley was generally one which Lady Caroline enjoyed. The countryside was rolling and hedged with low stands of trees. Though the previous rain had left its mark on the late-autumn countryside, the view was still one to excite admiration. However, this particular morning Lady Caroline was too preoccupied to enjoy the view moving past the carriage window.

  She had had time to review her position, and her thoughts were not happy. She regretted already the hasty temper that had led to the impetuous declaration to Mrs. Burlington that she had accepted an offer from the Earl of Walmesley. With those ill-fated words she had entered into a subterfuge that she knew could only lead to harm and possibly scandal for herself and for the Earl of Walmesley.

  Certainly nothing good could come of the farce that she was now embarked upon. Even if she and Lord Trilby were able to delude the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits, and even if an open scandal could be avoided despite Mrs. Burlington’s knowledge of the bogus engagement, there was still the matter of her own heart.

  For a very long time she had managed to preserve her dignity by pretending to feel only a warm friendship toward Lord Trilby. She had succeeded so well that at times she had even persuaded herself that that was indeed the sum of her relationship with the earl.

  But this morning she had agreed to participate in a pretense that would make her the object of a romantic courtship by Lord Trilby. With that one idiotic stroke she had stripped herself of her own carefully constructed defenses.

  Lady Caroline berated herself for her own unthinking betrayal. Of what use was her shield of pride and self-control if it was to be laid aside in so reckless a fashion? she wondered.

  Lady Carolin
e feared that it would take a more gifted actress than she could ever aspire to be to pretend that her very real feelings were only so much smoke to be blown in the eyes of a third party. She would betray herself again, this time to the Earl of Walmesley, with what must inevitably be disastrous consequences.

  My girl, you are riding for a fall, she thought grimly.

  Lady Caroline gave a small hollow laugh. The sporting phrase was absurd in its understatement.

  “My lady?”

  Lady Caroline glanced across the width of the carriage to meet her maid’s inquiring expression. “It is nothing, Spencer, only an ... amusing thought.” She smiled, somewhat crookedly. Not wishing to encourage further conversation, she rested her head back against the leather squab and closed her eyes.

  Perhaps it was just as well that his lordship had not chosen to tie his horse to the back of the carriage and take a seat within, she thought. Lord Trilby’s presence would have required her to indulge in polite pleasantries for the maid’s benefit, and she did not think that she could have borne it. For now, at least, she could remain true to herself and spend a few quiet moments in gathering her courage for the coming ordeal.

  Lady Caroline had no illusions about her introduction to the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits. Lord Trilby had told her enough about his great-aunt for her to have gathered that the grand lady was a formidable personality, being autocratic and haughty in the extreme. The grandduchess was obviously used to gaining her own way in every instance. Undoubtedly she would naturally be entrenched in the belief that her own opinion must weigh extraordinarily heavily with lesser mortals.

  Lady Caroline was not without experience in dealing with such individuals, having come into contact during the course of her London career with a few society ladies who had held similar high opinions of themselves. Her own aunt could be added to that company, and until quite recently she had done fairly well in maintaining an even relationship with that lady. It was to be hoped that her regrettable lapses would not work to her disadvantage with the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits.

  The grandduchess was of very different importance than those others of her past, however, even more so than Mrs. Burlington, because the outcome of the next hour or two would determine Lord Trilby’s own relationship with the grande dame. Lady Caroline’s nerves were not soothed by the knowledge that it would be her own efforts that would heavily influence the outcome.

  Lady Caroline’s countenance mirrored outer calm, but her mind worked as she thought about and discarded half a dozen approaches that might earn for herself the grandduchess’s approval. She had plunged recklessly into the fray and she was determined to do her best for the Earl of Walmesley’s cause, but that did not mean she wished to prolong the business. The sooner the desired result had been gained, the sooner it would be that she could put off this uneasy role.

  The remainder of the drive to Walmesley was accomplished in rather a shorter time than Lady Caroline could have wished.

  Lord Trilby dismounted. He gave the reins of his mount into the care of the groom who had been on the lookout for his return and walked around the coach in time to give his hand to Lady Caroline as she descended to the ground.

  He saw that her face was pale, and as he drew her hand through his elbow, he asked softly, “Have you second thoughts, Caro? For I shall not force you to go on, you know.”

  She threw a swift glance up to meet the concern in his eyes. It served to brace her faltering resolve, and she managed to summon a smile to her lips. “I do not easily cry craven, my lord!”

  He pressed her fingers. “Thank you. I could not ask for a greater show of friendship than that.”

  Lady Caroline laughed, a little bleakly, and allowed him to usher her into the house. Her maid followed discreetly behind.

  In the entryway they were met by the footman, and Lord Trilby surrendered his crop and riding gloves and hat. While she waited, Lady Caroline looked about her. She had always felt completely at home at Walmesley, but on this particular occasion her pleasure in her surroundings was marred by the purpose of her visit.

  Lord Trilby inquired quietly as to the grandduchess’s whereabouts. He turned to Lady Caroline. “Her grace awaits my return in the drawing room. Shall we join her, my lady?”

  “Of course. I have a lively wish to meet her grace,’’ Lady Caroline said, dreading the interview but also anxious simply to have it done with. She signaled to her maid, and that dame understood that she was dismissed until further notice.

  “I am happy to hear you say so, my lady.” Lord Trilby could plainly discern the shadow of anxiety that darkened Lady Caroline’s eyes and he appreciated anew the generosity and determination that were an essential part of her character. He had felt from the first that he could rely upon her in his extremity, and she had proved him correct.

  Lady Caroline lifted her head proudly and entered the drawing room on Lord Trilby’s arm.

  An elderly woman looked up at their entrance. Mingled astonishment and outrage crossed her face before her countenance hardened into autocratic hauteur.

  The Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits, for it could have been no other, thought Lady Caroline, watched with stony eyes as she and Lord Trilby approached. Lady Caroline realized in that frozen moment that this autocrat would not and could not be wheedled and charmed by deferring and conciliatory words. The grandduchess would dismiss such attempts as beneath contempt. That would be the end of the little masquerade, and she would have failed Lord Trilby in the shambles of it.

  Feeling that she had very little to lose. Lady Caroline decided upon a most reckless and daring approach.

  “Madam, I have brought you a surprise,” Lord Trilby said. He smiled down at Lady Caroline in reassurance. “Grandduchess Wilhelmina Hildebrande, allow me to present to you Lady Caroline Eddington, my intended. Lady Caroline, my great-aunt, the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits.”

  The Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits registered a deliberate flicker of surprise in her expression. Then she slowly inclined her head. “Lady Caroline.”

  Lady Caroline curtsied, advanced to extend her hand. Her heart was hammering in her breast, yet there was nothing of her inner agitation in her friendly gaze or pleasant smile. “I am happy to meet you, madam. Lord Trilby has often mentioned you, and with the greatest fondness, I might add.”

  The grandduchess accepted the familiarity of the handshake even as she threw a sharp glance in the Earl of Walmesley’s direction. “Indeed? I find this most difficult to believe, my lady. My grandnephew does not easily accept suggestion or advice from those who might be expected to hold his best interests close at heart.’’ Her tone was forbidding, even cold.

  Lord Trilby felt himself tensing. He feared the worst for Lady Caroline, and for himself. Yet there was nothing that he could do to circumvent the disaster.

  Lady Caroline gave an easy laugh. She cast a glance at the earl’s inscrutable countenance. “I have often observed that to be true of his lordship, madam. But I believe it is often so with most gentlemen, and most particularly with those whom one has known for the greatest length of time.”

  The Grandduchess Wilhelmina Hildebrande regarded Lady Caroline with an unreadable expression. She indicated that her visitor should be seated on the settee beside her. “So. I assume from what you say that your acquaintance with Lord Trilby is of lengthy duration.”

  Lady Caroline sat down and began to remove her gloves, signifying that she intended a lengthy stay. She pretended not to notice the grandduchess’s jaundiced observation of this signal.

  Observing his great-aunt’s increasingly frosty stare, Lord Trilby stood in admiration of Lady Caroline’s cool audacity. “Lady Caroline and I are old friends,” he said.

  The grandduchess spared the earl a contemptuous glance before her gaze refastened on Lady Caroline’s face.

  “Oh, yes, indeed. Lord Trilby and I have known one another for years. In point of fact, our families visited often when we were both young children,” Lady Caroline said, smoo
thing her gloves on her silken velvet skirt.

  “It is astonishing to me then that we have not previously met, my lady, for I came to England many times when his lordship was but a boy,” said the Grandduchess Wilhelmina Hildebrande. She showed her teeth in a predatory smile. “Nor do I recall that Lord Trilby has ever mentioned your existence in more recent times in his letters to me.”

  Lord Trilby had an almost overwhelming urge to loosen his neckcloth, which suddenly felt tighter than it should. The feeling startled him, for it recalled quite vividly his salad days when he had made his first bows to society.

  “It is not surprising at all, actually,” Lady Caroline said coolly. “My family divided their time between London and the country, whereas it is my understanding that you never cared overmuch for London and so rarely visited anywhere else but here at Walmesley even during the height of the Season.”

  Lady Caroline smiled slightly. “As for Lord Trilby’s omitting my name in his correspondence, I am not at all surprised. After all, it could quite conceivably have been because he feared that your grace might leap to the conclusion that I was of romantic interest to him.”

  Lord Trilby, who had been leaning with one shoulder against the mantel in a counterfeit attitude of relaxed interest, abruptly straightened. “Caro!”

  The Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits shot a fleeting and very keen glance at the earl. “Indeed, my lady. I am most profoundly intrigued why that should be,” she murmured.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lord Trilby reschooled his features. Pretending a nonchalance that he was far from feeling, he said in a voice of teasing reproof, which nevertheless managed to convey his feelings to the lady he addressed, “I do not tittle-tattle about any of my friends, Lady Caroline, as you should have guessed, knowing my negligent character so well as you do.”

  “True, my lord.” Lady Caroline bestowed a warm smile upon the earl. “You do cultivate a reputation for indifference, and certainly to discuss your friends to any extent would betray an intensity of feeling which must be avoided at all costs by one so set upon giving an impression of carelessness.”