Seduction Wears Sapphires

by Renee Bernard

  Caroline sighed and set the cup aside. She hadn’t indulged in a nightly cup of warm milk since her departure from Boston, and she was comforted by the return of this simple ritual. She liked to have a cup before bed to help her sleep, a habit she’d picked up in childhood as a way to prevent sleepwalking. Caroline knew she’d outgrown the malady, but the cure made her feel better all the same. She sighed again and leaned over to blow out the candle next to her bed.

  He gave me his word. He’s outfitted me like a princess. I have no evidence that he’s done anything wrong. So I’m not going to ask Daisy to play the spy.

  At least—not yet.

  Chapter

  9

  “Ah, miss! Look at how exquisite it is!” Daisy lifted the jade green day dress from its wrapping of tissue paper, her eyes shining with excitement for her mistress. “That’s a color like a dream!”

  Caroline fingered the hem, smiling. Daisy’s euphoria was catching despite Caroline’s fatigue. “It is pretty, isn’t it?”

  “You should wear it today to the museum!” Daisy laid it out across the bed and went back to the box. “Gloves to match! And shoes! And even a sweet little bonnet!”

  “It seems a bit much for a simple tour of an art museum,” Caroline teased.

  “Not at all! The Royal Museum’s all the rage and all the blue bloods are there, rubbing elbows and lording it about! The paper said it’s all the finest milling around and admiring how grand it is to live in an enlightened age.” Daisy sighed with envy.

  “Have you ever been, Daisy?”

  “No, but when I get my chance, I’ll be there with my best bonnet on!”

  A knock at the door signaled the arrival of a few more of the previous day’s purchases, and Caroline gave in to the pleasure of watching Daisy’s reactions to each box’s contents. Each hatbox and ribbon made the maid clap and squeal, but when the ball gown was discovered, Caroline feared Daisy would swoon at the sight of it.

  “It’s the prettiest thing I ever thought to see!” Daisy sighed, a girl overwhelmed, her eyes filling with tears. “You’ll be a vision in it—an angel, that’s what!”

  Ashe had left her at the shop before the gown was selected, and Caroline had been more than a bit leery of making the choice on her own. Shimmering pale blue silk with lace flounces, the overskirt opened on the sides to reveal an embroidered gold satin underneath, all balanced by the delicate lace and drapery of the décolletage. Mrs. Simms had assured her that the dress was not too sweet, but alluring. “The color will stand out because it is so pure, and it sets off your beautiful hair and eyes,” Mrs. Simms had cooed, and Caroline had given in.

  “Let’s just hope Mr. Blackwell agrees and isn’t embarrassed to be seen with me at the ball,” Caroline said, helping Daisy to pull it free from the large box it had arrived in.

  “He’ll glow with pride!” Daisy beamed, hanging the ball gown on the wardrobe door. “I can’t wait to see everything you bought!”

  The boxes of undergarments were pure decadence, and Daisy eyed them with awe but diplomatically refrained from too many comments on the delicate luxury of French lace camisoles and silk-layered petticoats in six colors, or the ribbon quilling on the whale-boned corsets.

  Her old dresses were quietly packed back into her trunks to make room for the new purchases, and Caroline couldn’t help but experience a touch of shock at the sheer amount of all of it. And there are so many more to come!

  Ashe was generous to a fault, and despite his assurances, she still didn’t believe that she would wear a fraction of the purchases he’d made. But as her fingers traced the soft organza and sumptuous silks, fur-lined cloaks and cashmere wraps, it was harder to believe that a mud wren could have such things. The transformation they offered was a dream, and Caroline only hoped that she could manage it—and not prove the old adage about sows and silk purses.

  She descended the stairs for their outing to the exhibition, new bonnet in hand, a cool queen in jade, and Ashe had the first inkling that he’d gotten away with nothing. She carried herself like a duchess and made a man feel like a peasant for daring to stare at her. He acknowledged that she may not be a conventional beauty, but he couldn’t see anything about her that didn’t appeal—a fact at the very core of his dilemma. And why he wasn’t about to betray just how much the very sight of her affected him.

  He pulled on his gloves nonchalantly. “You’re not late.”

  “I’ll interpret that as a compliment.” She reached the bottom of the stairs.

  “It was,” he said, “and you look quite lovely, Miss Townsend.”

  “Thanks to you, Mr. Blackwell,” she said, turning to allow him to admire his purchase.

  “Not at all. It is always a pleasure to dress a woman.” He deliberately kept his eyes focused on hers, and nothing else, refusing to take in too much of the flattering ensemble and the way it made her waist look smaller, setting off her ripe figure. Daisy had done her dark blonde hair up in an intricate fall of curls encircled by tiny braids, and wound a matching ribbon through it all. “Are you nervous about meeting my friends?”

  She rewarded him with a starched look of disdain that almost made him smile. “Not at all.”

  Good, we’re back where we started, you and I.

  The ritual of a guest’s arrival interrupted whatever argument might have occurred, and Ashe gratefully turned to see his friend Galen coming into the entryway with his wife at his side. As one of the Jaded, he trusted Galen like few others, and Ashe was hoping that the addition of Lady Winters to the party would offer Caroline a better ally and confidante in the weeks ahead. But he also knew that he’d mercilessly ridden Galen in recent months about falling so quickly and happily into the matrimonial yoke with what he considered a minimal and less than manly struggle—so he braced himself for any ribbing in return about his current predicament.

  Although, with dear Caroline giving me looks like daggers, I’d say Galen won’t have too much fuel for this fire.

  “Miss Caroline Townsend, may I introduce my good friend, Lord Winters, Mr. Galen Hawke, and his lovely bride, Lady Winters.”

  “God, that sounded pompous,” Galen groused, extending his hand with a warm smile. “Ignore Ashe, he’s just trying to make sure you have the impression that not all his friends are ne’er-do-wells.”

  Caroline smiled in return, her entire stance relaxing at the jest. “Or simply impress me with the idea that he has friends.”

  Galen laughed heartily, elbowing Ashe. “I like her!” He sobered slightly to complete the ritual. “It may be dangerous to allow you ladies to form an alliance, but I suspect it’s already too late.”

  “Indeed, it is!” Lady Winters beamed, then stepped forward to offer her hand to her newest acquaintance. “You must call me Haley and pay as little attention to these two as you can.”

  The carriage ride to the museum was a merry trip, though Ashe deliberately played the part of an observer rather than joining in the lively conversation. Lady Winters asked about Boston and Caroline’s life there, and for Ashe, it was a revelation to watch the subtle evasions as Caroline made his friends laugh with several clever antidotes but revealed very little about her personal self. She was a petite little mystery, sitting across from him, her new bonnet framing her face and dark gold curls.

  I’ve assumed so much of her, this eccentric woman, and avoided asking too much—hell, I didn’t want to know her, did I? At first, because I wanted her gone, and later, because everything I learn about her only adds to her appeal.

  “And what does your family think of your solo adventure to London?” Haley asked in friendly curiosity.

  “I’m sure they think it yet another sign that I am far too headstrong and beyond all hope,” Caroline replied cheerfully. “But since that was unlikely to change no matter which side of the Atlantic I am on, it is hard to fault them.”

  “You are not homesick, then?” Haley said.

  Caroline shook her head firmly. “My life will be there, just as it
was, when I return.”

  “If you return,” Haley offered. “You may find yourself married before spring, if Lady Fitzgerald is to be believed.”

  Ashe almost growled involuntarily at the announcement, but Caroline’s quick reply captured his complete attention.

  “Lady Fitzgerald is entitled to her speculation, but I did not come to London to find a husband,” she protested.

  “Did you not?” Galen laughed. “No one will believe it!”

  “I told her as much,” Ashe said and bit the inside of his cheek to keep his expression sober. “But I don’t think Miss Townsend believes anything I say.”

  Caroline made a point of ignoring him and looked directly to his friends for support. “Please excuse our ongoing debate. My guardian and Lady Fitzgerald want only the best for me, but I seem to be causing nothing but trouble when I forget to censure my opinions on husbands, hairless cats, and hat ribbons.”

  “Not at all! I admire your . . .” Galen began, then hesitated, as if searching for the right word.

  “Pluck?” Caroline supplied with a mischievous grin.

  “Yes, exactly! I admire your pluck, Miss Townsend,” Galen said, only to notice the expression on his friend’s face. “Don’t you, Ashe?”

  “Oh, yes,” Ashe echoed, swallowing the urge to reach across the carriage and either kiss her or shake her for her impertinence. “Miss Townsend has no shortage of pluck.”

  The museum was a revelation for Caroline. She guessed it would take more than a single afternoon to see it all, and even then, a person could likely visit every day and still discover something new. The gallery exhibits were fascinating, each one a demonstration of some great master or the treasures of a lost civilization.

  Lady Winters pulled her aside to stroll through an Egyptian display of glittering wealth and golden statues. “All this to accompany someone into the afterlife . . .”

  Caroline smiled. “I can’t help but wonder about all the people who would have sacrificed anything to possess such things while they were alive.”

  Haley sighed at her elbow. “And here it sits, for a dead pharaoh who has no use of anything at all.”

  “Here it all sits . . .” Caroline hesitated to voice anything that might seem critical.

  “A pretty waste,” Haley supplied with a smile, then leaned closer to a small statue of a beautiful woman with her arms outstretched. “I wonder if she minds all of these stares.”

  “Anything is better than the cold and dark of some forgotten vault.” She wasn’t sure why she felt drawn to an inanimate object, but for all the figure’s proud features, it was easy to imagine her feeling a bit forlorn in her glass prison. “Even if it’s not the future she imagined for herself.”

  “No future ever is,” Haley said softly. “Though it’s the surprises in life that make it all worthwhile.”

  Caroline doubted they were still talking about statues. “Surprises are often unpleasant, Lady Winters.”

  Haley leaned in, as if the stone beauty might also share an opinion on their philosophical discussion. “Has Mr. Blackwell surprised you?”

  “Not at all.” Caroline straightened up instantly, aware that the answer had come too quickly and a little too breathlessly to be believed, so she attempted an amendment. “Although I did expect him to be fatter.”

  “What a confession!” Haley said with laugh. “But truly now, what is your opinion of your guardian?”

  “Why?” Caroline countered. “If you know him, then you know that my opinion would hardly matter in the greater balance.”

  Haley shook her head with a quick smile. “I’m not sure that’s true, but I wish to hear it all the same.”

  Caroline considered her words carefully. “Any answer I gave you would be misunderstood. If I speak in neutral terms, you’ll see some greater mystery behind my words. If I praise him, you might accuse me of being smitten. And if I complained . . .”

  “Do you have complaints?” Haley asked, her brow furrowing with concern. “I don’t mean to pry, but you’re here alone, without family or friends, and . . . while Galen would trust him with his life, I’m not sure I would trust Ashe with a young woman’s reputation.”

  “I have no complaints,” Caroline asserted as confidently as she could. “And you shouldn’t waste a moment of worry. What Mr. Blackwell most wants of me is to see me setting sail for home—if only to be free of the trials of an uninvited guest. But his grandfather and mine were business partners and close friends, and so we are each honoring them by making the best of this Season. And, of course, by not murdering each other.”

  “You’re telling me what you think he wants. But you’ve yet to answer my question.”

  “Very well.” Caroline took a deep breath. “I think he’s exactly the sort of man who is going to try to seize on all the wrong things for all the wrong reasons—like the poor soul in that sarcophagus over there. I think he’s too handsome for his own good and he is his own worst enemy, but I’m not foolish enough to underestimate him for it.”

  “You don’t think he’s simply in need of reform by the right sort of woman?”

  Caroline shook her head. “I would pity the woman who makes the mistake of that assumption. True reform is a choice, not something to be imposed by someone else.” Her own words were no sooner spoken and Caroline grew pale at the ridiculous irony of it. Yet I am here to do nothing less, aren’t I? To offer some strange calming influence on him by my presence and my moral character and keep him on a restrained path for a Season—how is that different than what she is insinuating? Have I not agreed with his grandfather that I can somehow “manage” him?

  Lady Winters gave her a strange look but then nodded. “I can see there is nothing to worry about. I shouldn’t have pressed you.” She held out her arm. “Why don’t we rejoin the men?”

  “Your ward is quite the young lady,” Galen said as the men spoke together while the women walked through the Egyptian exhibit.

  “Whatever you’re about to say, don’t!” Ashe crossed his arms defensively. “Rowan’s already made the same play. She’s nothing to me but an inconvenience.”

  “You’re a liar.” Galen smiled. “Your eyes follow that inconvenience’s every movement.”

  “Keeping track of her in a crowd is simple courtesy.”

  “You’re deluding yourself, but I’m enjoying it too much to argue.”

  “You’re the one so besotted with his own wife he’s forgotten how singularly annoying it is to be a beleaguered bachelor.” Ashe readjusted his hat. “Besides, you’re forgetting our reputation. The Jaded have no interest in the treacherous company of women beyond their temporary uses.”

  “Oh, yes. I’d forgotten.” Galen’s grin belied his words. “Miss Townsend certainly looks treacherous from here.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake! I’m not so far gone that I can’t sidestep one woman—especially this one!”

  “Especially this one?” Galen’s look was pure delight. “You, my friend, are in a sinking boat and are too stubborn to even think of looking for the shore.”

  “She is unmannered, unpredictable, and impossible, Galen. The woman remembers every word ever uttered in her presence and has a persistent habit of appearing where she is least expected. Trust me. At the first sign of a deserted island, I’m marooning her.”

  Galen said nothing, looking out over the fashionable crowds, and Ashe allowed the silence. He’d protested a bit too much and knew it. But Galen had the good grace to drop the matter, at least for the moment, and Ashe was grateful.

  I can only hope that Lady Winters isn’t having a similar conversation with Caroline. The last thing I need is a female alliance forged over my shortcomings or, worse, my missteps the last few days.

  But when he caught sight of the pale green feathers of her bonnet as she strolled back toward him, he forgot the argument. Next to Lady Winters’s striking height and brunette coloring, Caroline’s diminutive size gave her a dainty look, he thought. Her gait was natural and pleas
ing to him. There was nothing mincing or practiced in the way she moved, no attempt to play the little porcelain doll. Even with her new clothes, she had a style all her own.

  The women rejoined them to continue touring the crowded halls, and Ashe began to finally relax and enjoy the day. Caroline was a bright and cheerful companion, her enthusiasm contagious. And he was secretly taking pleasure in the sight of her in a beautiful gown of his choosing, drawing stares for all the right reasons as they moved from exhibit to exhibit. It was a simple thing, to have a woman on your arm—but he’d never given it any thought before or savored the gentle—

  “Blackwell, you naughty thing!”

  Ashe recognized the voice but couldn’t fathom why he would be hailed in such a casual manner in such a public place.

  Margot. She wouldn’t dare!

  “What a deliciously wicked man! To kiss and run and force a woman to happen upon you in such a public place!” she cooed, a striking vision in bright lavender and yellow in a dress that clung to her every curve, the décolletage on the brink of indecency. Margot always managed to make an unforgettable impression.

  She dares.

  It was one of the most singularly awkward instances of his life.

  Galen did his best to pull his wife out of the line for introductions to avert disaster, but Haley had instinctively stepped closer to her new friend, closing ranks against the intruder in a motherly gesture.

  “But then public places are always more interesting when I am lucky enough to run into you!” Margot continued, giving him a shameless look of invitation.

  “Miss Stillman, what a surprise,” Ashe ground out softly. “If you’ll excuse me, we were just off to the view the mosaics.”

  “Oh! I wouldn’t wish to interrupt!” she purred, her eyes passing over Lord and Lady Winters, only to linger on Caroline. “Is this the little American ward we’ve heard so much of? You didn’t do her credit, Mr. Blackwell, when you described her.” She curtsied. “Well, enjoy the museum! Good afternoon.” She curtsied again and then made her way at a leisurely saunter off toward the stairs leading down to the main floor.