Caroline picked up her brandy glass and took another sip. Her impression of the Earl of Newhall was a long way from that of when they had first met. While the current moment was a little awkward, she took heart. If he didn’t care anything for her, they would not be having this conversation.
She would forever feel a sense of shame and regret over the way she had treated him. Fate must have finally decided to smile upon her and had granted her with the opportunity of a second chance with the man who sat opposite her.
They had made small but positive steps towards being firm friends. After the moment at the ice pond, when they had stood so close that Julian was able to briefly touch her cheek, she knew her heart was beating to a different rhythm. She wanted more than friendship. She longed to run her fingers through his hair once more and place a soft kiss on his lips.
“Enough about me. What about you? What are you going to do once you return to London; will you go back to your court of admirers?” he asked.
She sat in her chair and considered his question. “The Ice Queen will have to abdicate. I cannot continue to live my life the way I have in recent times. I have become someone that not many people like. I intend to go to Scotland and spend an extended period of time away from London. I need to withdraw somewhere and find myself.”
“Please don’t do that. I would be disappointed if you went away,” he said.
His response took her by surprise.
He reached out and took hold of her hand. “I am pleased that you and I have managed to reshape our relationship, that we have become friends. I simply ask that you reconsider your plans. Of course, if I cannot change your mind, then, as a friend, I will respect your decision.”
She looked down at her hand, and felt her breath catch at the warmth of Julian’s gentle grasp. Her usual ingrained response to a gentleman attempting to take her hand was to pull away and offer a harsh rebuke. Yet not with this man. His touch held such comfort that she felt it to her bones.
His earnest entreaty captured her mind. He was asking, not demanding, nor pleading. She raised her head and looked into his smoky-gray eyes.
She no longer saw him as merely a friend. Her gaze drifted down to settle on his full lips. She would give anything for him to take her into his arms and kiss her.
When Julian withdrew his hand, Caroline blinked back tears.
“We had better return to the castle. I would not want to incur the wrath of either your brother or your cousin,” said Julian.
“Yes, of course.”
She had allowed herself to think Julian felt something more than mere friendship toward her. She silently chastised herself for being such a fool. Cupid’s arrow had missed after all.
Julian placed a couple more logs on the fire before he and Caroline left the cottage. Depending on how things went during the day, he planned to come back later and lie on the bed. Perhaps enjoy the afternoon sun as it filtered in through the window.
He scowled at the sky as they slowly climbed the rise which led to the castle. The softly falling snowflakes indicated he would have little chance of seeing the sun for the rest of the day.
Caroline walked silently beside him. She appeared lost in her thoughts, deep in her own world. When she stopped and turned to look back at the lake, Julian halted.
“Thank you,” she said.
“What for?” he replied, searching his mind for what he had done to earn her gratitude.
“For asking me to stay. I know this sounds a little odd, but few men outside of my immediate family ever ask for my permission. You talk about my court of admirers as if I had gathered them to me, yet not one of them has ever asked if I wished for their company,” she replied.
Her words took him by surprise. He’d been operating under the assumption that Caroline had handpicked her group of gentlemen friends. It had never occurred to him that the Ice Queen had been put on the throne without her consent.
“Isn’t that one of the benefits of being beautiful?” he said.
She came to his side. “Not necessarily. I am not saying I would prefer to be plain, but having a fine face does come with its own price.”
The Newhall Castle steward appeared through the stone arch of the nearby walled garden, and approached them. “My lord.”
“Good morning. Though from the weather that is settling in, I cannot say it will be a fine day,” replied Julian.
His steward nodded. “Yes, and we have had a spot of bother with the straw that was laid over the gardens just after your arrival. It would appear that it is not deep enough and some of the plants have been burnt by the rain as it froze. I shall have to send the wagon over to Ashby to buy some more,” he said.
Julian would have preferred to stay with Caroline, but he had been an absent lord for too long. His steward had done a fine job in managing the castle and grounds while Julian was in France, but the task was ultimately his to undertake.
“Would you please excuse me, Caroline? I should go and examine the garden. It was my decision not to lay the straw too deep; it would appear, I was wrong. I shan’t be long.”
“Of course,” she replied.
Caroline found it encouraging to know that Julian was comfortable in owning up to his mistakes, because she still found it hard to admit when she was at fault. Her stubborn streak ran deep, and it would take a determined man to help her overcome it.
She could only pray that he was strong enough for the both of them.
Chapter Thirty-One
After Julian and his steward disappeared behind the high walls of the garden, Caroline was content to slowly wander on toward the castle. She stopped every so often to look back at the lake and take in the winter wonderland that was unfolding as the snow continued to fall.
She secretly hoped that by dragging her feet, Julian might catch up with her before she reached the castle, and they could spend a little more time talking privately. Thoughts of the earl were becoming near constant in her mind. He treated her differently than other men did. Dare she hope that Julian saw beyond her looks?
She had turned from one last gaze at the snow-covered grounds when Harry unexpectedly appeared from the front door of the castle. Standing in the open, she was easy to spot. He made an immediate beeline for her. There was no escape.
“Don’t be rude. Just be firm and polite,” she muttered as he approached.
As he drew close, she saw he was red-faced and flustered. Grim determination sat on his lips. She sighed. His mood, it would appear, had not improved from last night.
“You really should not be out here alone,” he said.
Caroline pursed her lips, forcing her temper down. “I wasn’t. Julian and I took an early morning walk. He has just gone off with his steward to deal with an estate matter,” she replied.
A flash of rage crossed Harry’s face. As he huffed, a great cloud of vapor appeared from his mouth in the cold air. “That is even worse. Do you not have any regard for your reputation, or the feelings of others?”
Caroline made to step past him, but Harry seized her by the left arm. He held it tight.
“Let go, Harry. You are hurting me,” she demanded.
He shook his head violently. His grip on her arm tightened. Caroline feared he was about to have a fit.
“No! It won’t do. I have done my time. Now it is up to you to yield,” he said.
A rising sense of panic took hold of her. She punched Harry hard on the arm, repeatedly, and he finally released his grip.
“What the devil has got into you? What do mean yield? Yield to what?” she replied.
His breath was coming hard and fast, and he angrily wagged his finger at her. “I have done my time waiting for you to finish with all those other fools. But I am no longer prepared to indulge your girly whims. You will accept my proposal of marriage and then we will be done with it.”
She stared hard at him while rubbing her bruised arm. The notion, wherever it had come from, was insane. There was not a chance on earth that she would
ever consider marrying Harry Menzies. She tolerated his incessant need to be near her purely for the sake of Francis. This time, however, he had gone too far.
“No, Harry. You cannot make those sorts of demands of me. This is utterly ridiculous. Now go away!” she snapped.
The Harry she thought knew would have done as she asked. The man who stood before her was suddenly a stranger. “You will marry me and that is the end of it!”
She gritted her teeth. He had run mad. “Harry, you are my brother’s best friend and because of that I have been tolerant of your idiosyncrasies over the years. But hear me now. I don’t love you. I won’t marry you. Now leave me alone!”
“But you have to marry me,” he replied.
“Why?” she asked, throwing up her hands in exasperation.
He stepped forward and stood over her. When she looked up and saw the sly smile which appeared on his lips, Caroline felt an icy chill of premonition.
“Because the day before I left London, I posted an engagement announcement in The Times,” he replied.
A punch of shock hit Caroline with such force that she staggered back. It took a moment or two for her to breathe again.
This had to be a cruel jest. No one in their right mind would try and force her to marry them. She would make his life a misery.
He put an arm around her waist and pulled her roughly to him. Caroline squirmed but Harry held her tight. “I know it was a little bold of me, but there you have it. As the Duke of Wellington put it, virtutis fortuna comes. And now I have made my claim upon you to the world.”
Betrothals were not entered into lightly, especially by women of her social standing. In the eyes of many of the matrons of the ton, she would already be considered Harry’s wife. If she tried to back out of the arrangement, her reputation would be in tatters.
“How . . . how could you do such a thing?”
“You forced my hand. After your sister married, I had assumed you would come to me and we would settle on our future. But instead of rewarding my long-suffering patience, you cruelly decided to come here and throw your hat in the ring to become Newhall’s countess,” he said.
He lowered his head and forced his lips against hers. She struggled, but he was too strong. Too determined to have his way. He placed hot, wet kisses on her cheeks and then ran his tongue down the side of her neck. “So beautiful. Oh, Caroline, you are so beautiful. I cannot wait to have you naked beneath me,” he growled.
Hot, burning anger welled up inside. She lifted her right boot, and brought it down as hard as she could on his foot.
“Oh, you bitch!” he cried, releasing her from his harsh embrace.
Caroline rounded on him. “Yes, and a bitch you won’t be marrying!”
Harry snorted. “We shall see about that. If you defy me now, Caroline, I will show you who is the master once we are married. I promise, you will yield.”
He raised a fisted hand and swung at her face. Caroline stepped to one side and avoided the blow. From his angry roar, she knew she would not be so lucky a second time.
Behind Harry, Julian reappeared from the walled garden. At the sight of him, Caroline sucked in a shuddering breath and screamed, “Julian!”
He broke into a fast run. “What on earth is going on?”
Caroline quickly moved to stand close to the safety of him. She looked back at Harry. He had not moved; his fist was still sickeningly clenched.
“Harry posted a betrothal notice in The Times. Oh Julian, all of London thinks I have agreed to marry him. When I told him no, he attacked me,” she said. The words burned in her mouth as she spoke. The pain was made worse by the look of shock and anger which appeared on Julian’s face.
“Is this true?” he said.
Harry looked from Julian to Caroline and snorted. “I didn’t attack her. I simply kissed her. In time she will learn to accept my advances, willing or not.”
Julian’s posture stiffened. Caroline sensed he was about to launch himself at Harry and do him a grave injury. When Harry made a bold step toward them, Julian held up his hand.
“Menzies, I would not take another step, because if you do, I shall put you down like a wild beast.” A deadly look glittered in Julian’s eyes. “And I will show you no mercy.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Julian genuinely surprised himself. He managed to get both Caroline and Harry back to the castle without murdering Harry in the process. He was sorely tempted to do him great harm, but it quickly became apparent that Caroline was in need of his support. He would have to wait to exact revenge on the man who had laid his hands on her.
Francis was not so gracious.
As Caroline went to sit with Lady Margaret, the men gathered in the drawing room, Harry on one side, faced down by the others.
“Harry, for the love of our friendship, tell me this is something of a foolish and badly timed jest. Tell me what Caroline has accused you of doing is all some terrible misunderstanding,” said Francis.
“I assure you that I am completely earnest in my resolve to marry your sister. You should be congratulating me, not taking me to task. Her reputation will be salvaged by her becoming my wife,” replied Harry.
“But not her health from the way you assaulted her,” snapped Julian.
The memory of the fear he had seen in Caroline’s eyes burned bright in his mind. Harry shook his head, but his gaze remained fixed on Francis. Caroline’s brother was the one man in the room who had any real power over her future.
“Now, Francis, if I could just talk to Caroline alone, I am certain we could get the matter of our betrothal settled. She just needs to learn to do as she is told,” Harry implored.
Julian puffed out his cheeks. He knew it was his imagination, but he was certain that somewhere he could hear a small voice telling him that Harry was in desperate need of a solid punch to the head.
Make that two.
Francis raked his fingers through his hair. Julian felt sorry for him. No matter what was resolved from the current crisis, the long-standing friendship was likely beyond repair. With his sister’s reputation at risk, Francis was now in the unenviable situation of having to take sides.
“What Caroline needs is for her family to support and protect her, which is exactly what I am going to do. You attacked my sister and now have the gall to try and force her into marrying you. Have you run mad?” he said.
A determined Harry held his ground. “I am not mad. In fact, I am seeing more clearly now than I have ever done. I made certain to set things in motion. So, whether you like it or not, Caroline now has to marry me.”
All six-foot-four of Francis stepped forward and towered over Harry. Julian and James exchanged a concerned look. This moment could very well end in bloodshed.
“You will not speak to Caroline. You will go to your room and pack your things. You and I shall leave for London before the day is out,” said Francis.
“What?” replied Harry.
Julian had heard enough. He was not going to stand idly by while Harry questioned the whys and wherefores of what was to happen. Especially not after what he had done to Caroline.
“Menzies, this is my home. I shall be the judge of what happens under my roof. As of this moment, you are no longer welcome as a guest at Newhall Castle. Until you leave later today, you will remain in your room. I shall have a footman bring you food and drink,” he said.
“But—”
“But nothing,” replied Julian.
“Don’t think for one minute that this is over and done with, Newhall. That betrothal notice will carry a great deal of weight in forcing Caroline to accept my suit,” sneered Harry.
Julian held back on his reply, and opened the door. He slammed it shut with great force after Francis and James had led Harry away. They accompanied Harry to his room, returning a short time later.
Francis handed Julian a key. “He continued to demand to see Caroline, so I thought it best to lock him in. Mostly for the sake of his own safety.”
> Julian nodded his agreement. It was a wise course of action. He had retrieved his pistol from his room upon returning to the castle. It was now loaded and sitting in his jacket pocket. It may have been overkill on his part, but after having seen how shaken Caroline was after her encounter with Harry Menzies, he was not willing to take any chances.
The Caroline of old would have taken her brother to task for not having dealt with the Harry situation earlier. But she now held her tongue as Francis closed the sitting room door behind him. No one could have foreseen the events that had transpired earlier that morning, least of all Francis.
“Thank you for sitting with my sister,” said Francis, as Lady Margaret gathered up her shawl and left the room.
His face was drawn and held an expression of dark resolve. Caroline knew he was doing his utmost to keep his temper in check. Francis was one of those people who could tolerate a thousand insults, but once he received one too many, pity help the man on the receiving end of his wild Viking temper.
Caroline rose from her seat and they met in the middle of the room. He held out his arms. “I am so sorry, Caro. I had no idea. Thank god Newhall arrived when he did,” he said.
It was with a great sense of relief that she stepped into Francis’s embrace. Long arms wrapped around her and pulled her close to him. She hugged him as best as she could, taking care not to disturb her injured left hand. Her tall, white-haired warrior from the north would do all he could to keep her safe.
“What is to happen?” she asked.
He looked down at her. “Harry is locked in his room and won’t be allowed out until we leave for London. That should be in a couple of hours. Newhall’s stablemaster is getting the carriage and horses ready for the road.”
Caroline pulled out of her brother’s hug. “Then I had better hurry and pack.”
Francis stepped in her way as she headed for the door. “Only Harry and I are travelling today. Would you please sit?”
The Ice Queen Page 13