And the ones whose reputations were spotless, well, there was nothing he could do about them. Except glare at them. Which he did. A lot.
He had left London three days ago. And not a moment too soon. He was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his distance and he knew that people were noticing the fact that he never asked her to dance. But the truth was, and he would only ever admit this to himself, he was terrified of what he would begin to feel again the second he took her in his arms. So he had stayed away.
Leaving for his estate in Essex had been a blessed relief. While there, he had toured the estate — the farms, the grounds, the orchards. He had walked the halls, ensured that rooms were prepared for guests who would join him in the next week or two. But it was a short-lived relief.
The whole damned time he'd thought of her. How she would look welcoming guests in the hallway. Riding beside him visiting farmers and their wives. Taking tea with the vicar's wife.
It had been enough to drive him mad. So he'd driven back to London. Only to find that while he'd been gone she'd managed to become even more irresistible.
So, he'd asked her to dance. He would feed the addiction enough to satisfy this raging need to hold her in his arms and then he would keep his distance again.
"I'm surprised by your offer to dance, Tom." Caroline's soft voice interrupted his musing and he felt immediately guilty for neglecting her, which was ridiculous.
He looked down into the startling blue of her eyes. He could not believe that he'd once found them cold. Now they burned right into his soul.
"Please do not think I meant any slight to you, my lady," he answered stiffly. He saw her frown at the formality of his tone. In truth, he hated the formality himself, but it was imperative if he was to keep his heart safe.
"I am sure you did not, Mr. Crawdon," she answered equally formally and he found that he hated it all of a sudden — the distance between them.
He turned her to face him and bowed before gathering her into his arms. He had chosen a waltz. He was obviously a glutton for punishment.
Her closeness overwhelmed him. And he found that suddenly he did not want to keep his distance.
"The truth is, when you look like that, I can't resist you. And I'm beginning to feel like I do not want to."
Caroline's breath caught at his statement. How did he expect her to keep her heart intact when he said such things?
She gazed into his too handsome face. Did he have any idea? Any idea at all of what he did to her? How she felt?
She had loved him before and she loved him still. More now than ever.
And when he said those things, her foolish heart thought perhaps she would have the chance to fix the mistake she had made two years ago.
The music began and Tom led Caroline through the first strains of the waltz. Caroline remembered Rebecca's description of her first waltz with Edward.
She had described it as magical. Caroline knew now what she meant.
Tom's gaze never left hers except to briefly glance in the direction of Edward and Rebecca with a knowing smile.
The whole ton knew that Edward and Rebecca never missed a waltz together. Caroline began to see why.
Although the dance was no longer scandalous, it was much more intimate than any other. And Caroline knew already that she would never want to dance it with anyone else.
Her heart was galloping at the nearness of Tom, the sight of him looking only at her, the feel of his strong arms holding her gently, the masculine scent that was only his intoxicating her with every breath.
And she allowed herself to hope.
Rebecca was right. Caroline had not spent any time trying to find a gentleman to become her husband. Because she had already found him. And nobody could compare.
So why would she try to capture another when her very soul was so utterly captured by him?
The dance ended all too soon.
Tom led Caroline from the dance floor and bowed over her hand. But instead of releasing it, he suddenly gripped it more tightly. His expression made her heart thump wildly. Whatever he was about to say, it would be momentous, she just knew it.
"Caroline, I—"
"Caro." Rebecca's voice interrupted whatever Tom had been about to say.
Caroline swore under her breath then clapped a hand over her mouth, horrified.
Tom's face dropped in shock before he grinned in amusement.
"How unladylike," he quipped, his eyes taking on a gleam that made her feel far too hot and shivery, all at the same time.
"Excuse us, gentlemen." Without another word, Rebecca practically dragged Caroline to the other side of the room to the ladies' powder room, which was blessedly empty.
"Rebecca, what—"
"Caroline, what on earth are you about? Did we not speak of how your attachment to Tom was doing your campaign no good? Why would you dance the waltz of all things with him?"
Caroline hesitated, unsure of what to say. To confess her true feelings or laugh it off?
Finally, she answered, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Rebecca, I love him."
Rebecca stared in shock for so long that Caroline actually began to worry about her.
"Rebecca?"
Nothing.
Perhaps she should slap her?
When she lifted her hand Rebecca jumped back.
"Were you just going to slap me?" she shouted.
"Well," Caroline answered defensively, "I thought you'd gone into shock."
"So you decided to take the opportunity to attack me?"
"Don't be so ridiculous."
They glared at each other for a moment before dissolving into giggles.
Rebecca sobered more quickly than Caroline and turned to grasp her sister's hands.
"You love him? Truly?"
Caroline merely nodded, unsure what Rebecca's reaction would be.
But she needn't have worried. A huge grin split Rebecca's face and she threw her arms around her sister, whooping in joy. Which was terribly unladylike but Caroline let it slide.
"Why this is wonderful. Just wonderful."
"Do you really think so?"
"Of course I think so! Good heavens it was always my fondest wish. I even thought that perhaps you and he would fall in love when Edward and I did."
Rebecca was too distracted to notice the flash of pain on Caroline's face.
"Yes, well things do not always work out as we would wish at first."
Her tone alerted Rebecca to Caroline's turmoil.
"Caro, what are you speaking of?"
Caroline took a calming breath, deciding it was time to tell her sister exactly what had happened between her and Tom the night of the engagement ball.
The door opened and a gaggle of debutantes entered the room, chatting loudly. It seemed someone had arrived and whoever she was, she was creating quite a stir.
Caroline and Rebecca shared a look of frustration.
"Perhaps this is a tale that I should tell at home."
Rebecca frowned in disappointed but agreed and they left arm in arm to see what the fuss was.
CHAPTER TWELVE
LATER THAT EVENING, Caroline would wonder how she had managed to keep her smile in place when she walked into the main ballroom again.
It seemed that whatever had the debutantes excited had infected the rest of the room. It was positively abuzz with talk.
"I wouldn't mind being in his position," came one very slurred, very male voice.
"Well, I cannot say I am surprised. The stories of his time in America were shocking. Utterly shocking." This from a disapproving matron not too far from Caroline and Rebecca.
But the statement that really caught her attention, and filled her with dread, was uttered directly in front of her.
"And after all that attention he paid to Lady Caroline. No wonder he tried to pretend he wasn't interested at first. He must have been expecting her."
Rebecca grabbed Caroline's arm even tighter. Still unaw
are as to what they were talking about, she knew it could not be good.
They neatly sidestepped the gossipy young chit in front of them and made their way to the front of the gathering crowd.
Caroline had thought she had felt pain before now, but nothing could have prepared her for the spectacle before her.
For there stood Tom, surrounded by an avid audience. And he was locked in a most scandalous embrace with a woman Caroline had never seen before.
She heard Rebecca's hiss of surprise. Heard the mumbling — mostly quite imaginative insults directed at Tom. But she responded to none of it. She couldn't. She was frozen in place.
And much as she implored herself to look away, her gaze remained riveted.
By now Tom had grabbed the stunningly beautiful brunette and was holding her at arms-length, a deep frown marring his brow.
He seemed to become aware of the interest they were gathering and he swiftly glanced around, looking rather displeased.
Caroline knew that he would see her watching in mere seconds. Yet still she could not move.
And then his eyes landed on her face. He mouthed something, Caroline did not know what. But it was the catalyst she needed to turn, and without a word to Rebecca or anyone else, flee from the ballroom.
Tom watched helpless as Caroline, her stricken expression cutting to his core, turned and ran.
"Son of a—"
"Now, now Tommy. That's no way to talk in front of a lady. Or me." Charlotte had always made certain that she said and did things that would draw the most attention.
He turned his attention back to her now.
"What are you doing here, Charlotte? And what the blazes was that little display about?"
Charlotte's painted lips turned down into a pout which was contrived enough to have been practised.
"Why I missed you, honey. And when daddy said he was coming to oversee his shipyards I took the opportunity to visit. You can't tell me you're not happy to see me?"
Tom bit back the litany of curses he was tempted to spew. It wasn't Charlotte's fault, not really.
The first thing he had to do was escape all of this damned attention they were attracting, then he had to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do next.
"How about some air?" he bit out, conscious of several people listening intently to his every word.
Charlotte's smile was knowing and seductive. And had no impact on him whatsoever. He really had changed.
"Of course, darling. Sounds sublime."
He grabbed her elbow and turned her toward the open balcony doors. His gaze searched the crowd for a glimpse of Caroline, but she was nowhere to be seen.
There was a gnawing worry in the pit of his stomach. She wouldn't be so foolish as to leave altogether would she? No, of course not. But then… he'd never thought her foolish enough to go onto the balcony alone with a rake either.
His mood was turning sourer by the second.
Tom suddenly found the way blocked by Edward and Rebecca. The former looking unhappy, the latter making him want to turn tail and run.
"Why Tommy, are these friends of yours?" Charlotte's eyes gleamed appreciatively as they raked over Edward.
Tom could have sworn he heard an actual growl from Rebecca.
"My cousins, the Duke and Duchess of Hartridge. Your graces." He deliberately used their titles for he wasn't sure that Charlotte would bother to do so and he guessed she was perilously close to injury. "An old acquaintance from America, Charlotte Noble."
Edward bowed politely, but stiffly, and his face had taken on the expression he favoured when playing the arrogant duke.
Charlotte curtsied prettily. Rebecca barely nodded. Oh, God.
"How nice to finally meet you, your grace. Tom talked about you incessantly." Charlotte was completely ignoring Rebecca and it was not going unnoticed.
"How long do you plan to stay in London, Miss Noble?" asked Rebecca sounding so icily cool, Tom was sure she was channelling her sister.
Charlotte, having no choice but to answer, smiled at Rebecca though it did not reach her eyes. Rebecca's eyes flashed fire and both Tom and Edward took a cautionary step back.
"As long as it takes my father to conduct his business, Mrs. Hartridge."
Tom groaned. Mrs. Hartridge? Rebecca was going to claw her eyes out!
"I believe you mean 'your grace'," Rebecca answered now, all pretence of friendliness done with. "If you come out in London Society you will do well to remember that Peers are to be addressed in the correct manner. Further, you'd do well to remember that duchesses, especially this one, do not take kindly to being ignored while their husbands are sized up by little girls that nobody has ever heard of."
Charlotte's cheeks flamed scarlet. Tom did his best to remain impassive but Edward had given up all pretence at cool, calm collectedness and was highly amused at his wife's rant.
The group remained silent, waiting to see who would speak first. It was terribly awkward and Tom wanted a drink. And to find Caroline. Not necessarily in that order.
Finally, Charlotte relented. Which was a first.
"I apologise, your grace," she mumbled though she did not sound happy about it. "I meant no offence."
Rebecca smiled sweetly. A sure sign of danger.
"Well, perhaps it is just in your nature then. If you'll all excuse me, I'm going to find my sister." This was aimed at Tom with a hefty amount of daggers shooting from her eyes.
Rebecca spun away and hurried through the ballroom, her clenched fists the only sign that she still wanted to hurt something or someone.
Edward bowed to Charlotte, for he would always have impeccable manners even in the face of such rudeness, and with a hard look to Tom, turned to find someone else to talk to.
Tom felt like an outcast.
"My, my. Your little duchess has a towering temper for one so tiny." Charlotte had dropped the act of contrition, for an act was all it had been, and scowled up at Tom.
"She is not my duchess, Charlotte. She was the daughter of a very important earl and is now the wife of a ridiculously important duke. She is also an absolute favourite of the ton, as well as being my family. Do not cross her."
Charlotte's face took on a look of shock at the scathing set down.
"What on earth has gotten into you?" she asked. "A few weeks back in London and you're stiff as a board."
Tom sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
He didn't want to waste his time doing this. He wanted to find Caroline. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say yet, but finding her was his priority.
"Things are different here in England, Charlotte. The rules of Society are decidedly stricter. For example, coming to a ball uninvited and unescorted is inexcusable."
"Well your Society sounds ridiculously dull. But do not worry yourself. I came with my father who was invited, since he has business dealings with Sir—uh—oh, whatever his name is."
Her lack of manners was breath taking. Tom had never noticed before. Caroline wouldn't dream of so disrespecting a host.
"Well then, I suggest you go and find your father. I have pressing business to attend to."
"Would this pressing business be the boring blonde that the little duchess is fawning all over right now?"
Tom's head whipped round and he saw Rebecca looking at Caroline with some concern and Caroline, to his utter shock, downing glass after glass of champagne. This was not going to end well.
"Do not speak of her that way, Charlotte. Not to me. Not to anybody."
Charlotte's cheeks flamed once again.
"I'm starting to think you aren't entirely happy to see me, Tom."
"I am very happy to see any of my acquaintances from New York. But—"
"But not happy enough to take your mind off the blonde?"
Tom gritted his teeth as his temper flared.
"Her name is Lady Caroline."
Charlotte smirked. "I don't care."
That did it.
With a quick bow, Tom
turned and walked away.
Why had he never noticed how crass Charlotte was? Had he just not cared?
Tom had always had a bit of a reputation as a rake, though mostly a harmless one. But even those who had known him before would not excuse such a vulgar display as the one Charlotte had just put on — with him as her co-player, unfortunately.
Charlotte had shouted his name loud enough to bring the chandelier down and had run across the ballroom and thrown herself into his arms, planting her mouth firmly against his.
Tom had been so shocked he hadn't been able to move until finally his common sense kicked in and he pushed her away. He was immediately aware of the fascinated crowd, the gleeful gossips. He needed to get away from her and fast before…
His skin had prickled, and he was aware of her, as he always was. He scanned the crowd until he'd seen her. The look of devastation on her beautiful face would haunt him for days.
He knew he shouldn't care. After all, hadn't she rejected his love? But he did care. And he had thought that perhaps there was something growing between them again. It was tentative, and tainted with the hurt of the past, but it was there and he was falling under its spell again.
Had Charlotte's display ended it before it had a chance to begin? And did he even want to risk his heart all over again?
He didn't know the answers to these questions that seemed to spin never-ending through his mind. But right now, he wanted to speak to Caroline, to explain that Charlotte meant nothing to him. And, he thought with a grimace as he watched her pluck yet another glass from the table, to stop her from drinking herself into a stupor.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CAROLINE SHRUGGED OFF Rebecca's hand and drank deeply from her glass.
It was about time she started acting instead of just talking.
She had promised herself a season of scandal and all she had done was allow herself to fall more and more in love with Tom Crawdon.
Tom, who not thirty minutes ago had been locked in a scandalous embrace with a beautiful stranger. Oh, God.
Do not cry, Caroline. Do not let them see you cry.
"Caroline, do you not think—"
Seeking Scandal (Ranford Series Book 2) Page 10