Caroline avoided all company for the rest of the afternoon and took her supper in her room. She wrote a long letter to William and another one to her mother. With Francis now en route to London, they would know the situation regarding Harry by the time they received her letters.
To Adelaide, she restated her promise to change her ways. The members of her cluster of admirers would be encouraged to find other young ladies to focus their attentions upon. Flowers, gifts, and unannounced visits to her family home would no longer be welcome. If she wanted society to treat her differently, it would have to begin with her own behavior.
To Will, she confirmed his words about Julian Palmer. He was not the brute she had claimed him to be. In fact, he was quite a pleasant man. Her brother would be pleased to know that she and Lord Newhall had become friends.
She put the pen back into the inkwell. It was odd to read the words, let alone write them. Julian was no longer her enemy, but after their earlier conversation, she was not sure if he was, indeed, her friend either. A friend would not think, let alone say, such a thing.
Yet he was right. She had acted the tease with men, especially those she felt she could safely manage. Slowly at first, but then, over time, she had become cold and calculating in her dealings with her cluster of suitors. Eventually becoming someone, she no longer recognized.
It hurt to look into her own heart and know she was an unlikeable person. Her beauty, at times, was only skin-deep.
“I don’t even like me,” she muttered.
How then could she expect Julian to like her? She should not care; there were many more men who would take his place if he didn’t want her. But she did care what he thought of her, and it was deeper than a simple desire for him to like her. Because if Julian Palmer could not see that there was more to her than just her looks, how could he ever love her?
“Come now, Caroline. You have to find a way.”
Both of her married siblings had fought back from loss to find love and happiness, so she knew it was possible. Will had found love again after the death of his first wife, while her sister, Eve, had succeeded in securing love after suffering a cruel heartbreak.
Her brother had of course been right; you never did know when love would find you. Or what you would do when it did.
She picked up the pen and set it back onto her letter to Will. Tomorrow was a new day, and with it came the hope that she could find her way into Julian’s heart.
To make him see that she was someone worthy of his love.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Breakfast the following morning was a mostly silent affair, with only the clink of cutlery on china to be heard.
Lady Margaret spent her time reading a book which she had purchased at the town market, while Julian sat with coffee cup in hand, deep in thought. He hadn’t slept well.
Every time the door to the breakfast room opened, he sat up in his chair, ready to greet Caroline with the well-rehearsed speech of apology that he had spent half the night preparing. But each time, it was another footman or maid who appeared, rather than his house guest.
Finally, Lady Margaret looked up from her book and sighed. “Why don’t you go and find her, because if I have to listen to you muttering under your breath any longer, I shall throw this book at your head.”
He raised an eyebrow and shot a dirty look in her direction. “Remind me to move you to the dowager house when I finally marry. The roof has plenty of holes and I hear there is quite a selection of spiders. You should be right at home.”
“I dare you. This place will fall apart the second I move out. You men have no idea when it comes to running an estate. Nor, would it appear, in securing the hand of a suitable countess.” She met his gaze. Mischief sparkled in her eyes.
Julian set his cup down and rose from the table. Lady Margaret, for all her gentle teasing, was right. If Caroline was not going to come to him, he would have to seek her out.
“Excuse me,” he said.
“About time,” came the reply.
He found a maid in the upstairs hallway just leaving Caroline’s room. He asked her to go back inside and enquire as to whether she was coming down for breakfast.
The maid looked a little surprised. “I am sorry, my lord, but Miss Saunders is not in her room. She went out an hour or so ago. She had her cloak with her, so she may have gone for a walk.”
Julian hurried downstairs and retrieved his heavy winter coat. He searched the grounds, first going to the ice pond, but Caroline was not there. He then went down to the cottage by the lake. Again, no luck.
Over the next hour, he scoured the castle grounds. Finally, after climbing back up from the lower fields and getting his boots and trousers wet from the deep early morning snow, he stood at the top of the rise and tried to catch his breath.
“Where the devil are you, woman?” he said.
She was not inside, and not at any of the usual places he would have expected to find her. It was as if she had disappeared into the earth.
Julian looked toward the ridge which sat at the back of the castle. On top of it stood a grand stone temple. The temple housed the Palmer family crypt where all the previous generations of the Earls of Newhall were buried, including his father.
He trudged up the hill, holding tightly onto hope. If she was not there, then it would be time to gather a search party.
As soon as he reached the top of the hill, he was greeted by Midas who bounded down to him, tail wagging with delight.
“I might have known you would be with our elusive guest,” said Julian. He quietly chided himself for not having had the nous to call the dog in the first place. Midas had taken to Caroline from the start and was never far from her side. He followed Midas down to the opening of the family crypt.
Inside, he found Caroline sitting on the cold stone paving in front of his father’s grave, a fresh bouquet of wild flowers clutched in her hand. She looked at him as he approached and softly smiled. Midas hurried over to sit beside her.
“Good morning.”
“The morning is nearly gone, and I have spent much of it in search of you. I was beginning to get worried,” he replied.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I went for a walk and eventually found myself here. When I saw your father’s grave, I decided to go into the woods and pick some wild flowers for him. There wasn’t much of a selection, with it being so cold, but I found some winter cherries. The pink flowers are lovely. Do you think he would like them?”
Julian nodded. He came and sat beside her on the stone floor. His father’s grave bore a simple inscription.
Arthur Julian Sloane Palmer
30th Earl of Newhall.
One who loved not wisely but too well
He wiped a bitter tear away. How many arguments had he and his father had over that simple sentence? Yet the late earl had been adamant that it be written on his tombstone. His final message to the world.
“Didn’t you say you were nine years of age when she left?” asked Caroline. She was an intelligent young woman, no doubt familiar with the tragic love story of Othello, from where the quote came.
Julian closed his eyes and swallowed back the lump in his throat. When he opened them again, he saw Caroline’s right hand resting gently on the glove of his left hand. “Yes, I had just celebrated my ninth birthday when she finally packed up and left for the last time. I expect she thought that a suitable gift for me.”
She nodded toward his father’s grave. “An odd inscription for a final epitaph. What does Lady Margaret think of it?”
Julian paused for a moment, unsure of what to say. His father had long ago thought to marry Lady Margaret, but had unwisely allowed himself to be blinded by the beauty of Julian’s mother. An arranged marriage, and all the heartache that came with it, had quickly followed.
The ‘unwise’ part of the quote had been for the former countess, but the ‘too well’ had been reserved for the woman who had eventually healed his heart. The woman he should have made his countess.
“She is fine with it. She was the one who finally convinced me to go ahead and have it made. ‘If a son cannot honor the last wishes of his father, then what sort of son is he,’ or words to that effect,” he replied.
“Yes, it is hard enough to have a say over one’s life. But in death, we must trust to our family to honor our wishes,” said Caroline.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out one of the apples she had bought on their visit to the market. She handed it to Julian. “You must be hungry after all that searching for me.”
He took the apple, and with a quick hard twist, broke it in half. He handed Caroline a piece.
“So why were you looking for me?” she asked.
“To apologize.” He felt terrible over what he had said to her the previous day, knowing it was why she had hidden in her bedroom and not come down for supper.
Her brow furrowed. “You have nothing to apologize for. You should not be punished for having spoken the truth. You were right, I do have an effect on men, and I am well aware of it. It just hurts to hear people you care about say it to your face. And I am trying to rectify the faults in my character, but it is not easy to change ingrained habits.”
When Midas whimpered and nudged her, Caroline bit off another piece of the apple and set it down on the floor. The dog snatched it up in his mouth and set to the juicy fruit with gusto.
“I would have bought a dozen if I had known he loved them so much,” she said.
Julian smiled at Midas, who quickly finished his piece of the apple. Then, spying Julian’s half, Midas made a great show of nuzzling against his master and whimpering softly.
“You are playing both sides now, are you? You were no help when I could not find this young lady, but now you want my food,” he said.
Midas barked softly and Julian knew he was not going to be allowed to finish his apple in peace. He bit off a piece and lay it in the palm of his hand. A hot, slobbery tongue brushed his fingertips as Midas took the apple.
“I hope I was not intruding on the family privacy by coming here. It’s a tradition within my mother’s side of the family to sit with our ancestors up on the side of Strathmore Mountain. I would spend hours in front of my grandfather’s grave when I was younger,” said Caroline.
“You are welcome to come and sit with my family. I am sure my father would appreciate the company. I have not spent enough time up here with him. I was in France when he died,” he replied.
“Will mentioned that he was with you in Paris when you got the news. That must have been hard, being so far away,” she said.
“Your brother is a good man,” he replied.
Caroline smiled at him. “He says the very same thing about you.”
She shifted on the hard, stone floor and pushed back her shoulders. Julian stood and held out his hand. She accepted his offer and he helped her to her feet. It was then that he noticed the pair of ice skates on the floor which had been hidden by her cloak.
She looked down at them. “I thought I might go for a skate on the ice pond this morning. Of course, once I got down there, I realized that I could not tie the boots properly with only one good hand. So, I went for a walk instead and ended up here.”
He reached down and picked up the skates. “I can help tie your boots and catch you if you fall.”
She snorted. “I never fall.”
Julian sighed. “How am I to rescue you if you refuse to pay the helpless female?”
A blush of heat raced to her cheeks at his words. She wanted nothing more than to be rescued by him. Julian was the only man who could save her from herself.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
At the ice pond, Julian found a rope and tied Midas to a nearby tree, much to the dog’s growls of protest. Once Midas realized Caroline was not going to come and untie him, he plopped down on a piece of stone path that was being warmed by the sun and simply watched.
Julian made short work of Caroline’s ice skates. When the boots were secure, he offered her his hand and helped her to stand on the ice.
“Now I know you say you never fall, but I just want to be close enough to catch you if you do. Trust me, Caroline, I shall always be there to catch you,” he said.
Caroline did not protest. She would normally have boasted about her many times on the ice, and the fact that she was an accomplished skater, but something held her back. She was in no hurry to let go of Julian’s hand. She was enjoying the soft fluttering in her stomach which came from touching him.
She pushed out, still holding on, and began to skate around him. Julian turned on the spot as she glided around in a large circle. A soft laugh came to her lips. The freedom of the ice, and being able to move on it, sparked joy in her heart.
“I could go a little faster if you like?” she said.
He screwed up his face. “I don’t know if I will be able to stay on my feet if you do.”
Caroline slowed. When she stopped, she was standing closer than she knew she should. It was a bold move, testing his reaction. He towered over her.
She rose up on her skates and looked him in the eye. “Let go. I promise to come back.”
As she skated away from him, Julian held onto Caroline’s hands until only their fingertips touched. She heard his soft sigh when the connection finally broke.
Free from his hold, she skated to the far side of the pond, did a half twirl, and then stopped. She looked over her shoulder at him. He was smiling, but she could tell he was not comfortable with having her so far away from him.
With a hard push off, she raced across the ice. Just before she reached him, Caroline darted to the right and made a half loop behind Julian.
He applauded her skillful move. “Very clever, Miss Saunders. But don’t get carried away.”
With a whoop, she raced over to the far side of the pond. This time, when she turned and came back to Julian, it was at even greater speed. The smile disappeared from his face as she bore down on him. Once more, she circled behind him and came out the other side.
Midas barked loudly from the side of the pond, protesting this strange sight. But Caroline still had one trick or two she intended to show his master.
In the middle of the pond, she stopped briefly to check the distance from the center to the side. It was enough; she would risk it.
Skating to the edge of the ice, she skirted the outside for a few yards before leaping toward the middle and throwing herself into a tight spin. Round and round she went, faster and faster. Holding her back straight and her head up, she crossed her arms as she spun on one foot.
At the end of the fast spin, she threw her arms out to the side and brought herself slowly to a standstill.
On the other side of the pond, Julian held out his hand. “Magnificent! In my entire life, I have never seen anyone so accomplished on the ice as you, Caroline,” he said with a smile.
She looked at him, and all the bravado that had filled her moments before suddenly fled. With her head lowered, she slid across the ice to him.
She shyly took his offered hand. As she looked into his eyes, Caroline was struck by an overwhelming sense of need. To hold his hand and never let go.
“Are you alright? Did you spin too fast in that last one?” he asked.
“No. I . . . Never mind.”
He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. “Tell me,” he murmured.
She lifted a hand to his cheek, tenderly brushing her fingers on his chilled skin. Julian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “You are not like other men. Well, not the way other men are with me. I feel that you actually see me, if that makes sense.”
His hand slipped around her waist and drew her close to him, after which he stilled. She could read him. He was waiting. Seeking her permission to move the moment forward.
As he bent his head, she whispered, “Yes.”
Warm, soft lips touched hers, then drew back. She smiled. He was going to tease every moment out of their first kiss.
She
reached up and wrapped her fingers around the bottom of his cravat. A murmur of a chuckle came from deep in his throat as she pulled him back to her.
When their lips touched for a second time, the shyness between them evaporated. Taking Caroline’s face in his hands, Julian placed ever-deepening kisses on her lips. She groaned with pleasure. This was the tender, loving kiss she had so longed for from a man. A kiss that sought to discover all the secrets of her heart.
She exalted when he finally threw all caution to the wind and took her mouth fully. His tongue swept past her lips and into her mouth where she tasted the spice of the apple they had shared.
Their tongues danced together as gracefully as she had danced on the ice. A natural ebb and flow existed between them. The give and take of destined lovers.
When they finally, reluctantly, broke the kiss, she looked up and saw the glaze of passion in his eyes. He was as fully invested in the moment as she had been. The kiss sealed the promise of their hearts being given up to one another.
“So beautiful, oh, Caroline,” he whispered.
As Julian spoke the words, Caroline froze. The image of Harry Menzies, as he spoke the very same words to her, appeared before her eyes. Of how he had held her in his cruel grip and tried to claim her as his prize. Of his hard, cold lips on her skin.
Julian reached out to hold her once more, but she slid back onto the ice out of his reach. He stood on the edge of the pond, concern etched in the worry lines on his brow.
“Did I overstep the mark? Forgive me if I read the moment wrong,” he said.
She saw the pained look of confusion on his face. How could she explain her reaction to his words? That for the first time in her life, she hated being told she was beautiful.
They walked back to the castle, neither saying a word. Julian watched Caroline out of the corner of his eye. She seemed lost, deep in thought. He prayed she was not having regrets about the kiss. He tried to console himself by recalling that she had said yes, but it did little to calm his worried mind.
The Ice Queen Page 16