“I’d like that. Thank you.” Caroline nodded before she slipped down the hall and out the back doors onto the slated path. The scuff of her slippers was soon lost to the ambient noise of conversation and jocularity. Eager in her pursuit, she followed the oval-shaped stepping-stones atop the gravel path toward the gardens and beyond. It was shameless, really, to purposefully place herself in a position where she might meet the Earl of Lindsey. But no matter the sound admonishment her conscience waged, her heart and curiosity won out. She didn’t pause.
Rushing now, she hardly glanced at the glorious blooms Lady Henley had suggested she admire, passing them in a blur of orange and green fueled by irrational, misplaced hope. Lindsey would be surprised to see her. But would he be pleased? She hoped so.
She walked farther down the path, parallel with the waist-high wall that curved to the left and beyond her line of sight, keeping on until the rumble of argumentative voices slowed her progress. Rounding the corner, she saw three gentlemen cast in shadow at the path’s end adjacent to a long hedgerow of Guelder-rose. She immediately identified Lindsey. The late afternoon light limned his profile in gold against the dark green leaves.
Lord, he was a striking man.
Lord, he was angry.
Her breath caught as he wrapped his fist in another man’s cravat, and with a fast reversal hauled him backward to the stone wall. What could this be about? Alerted by her approach, Lord Mills stepped from the shadows and strode to stand beside her, several yards from Lindsey’s confrontation.
“Is something amiss?” She kept her voice low and her eyes fixed on the unfolding scene before her.
“Nothing of which you should have a care.” Mills bowed slightly in greeting, a sly smile on his lips. “Men and their arguments, too often made a fool over proprietary feelings brought on by a fetching female.”
“Over a woman?” She hardly kept the surprise from her voice.
“I don’t mean to sound indelicate,” Mills continued, undeterred by her dubious tone. “Suffice to say the gentleman with the wrinkled cravat is interested in a woman Lindsey wants for his own.”
“I see.”
This news unsettled her. Was Lindsey warning the other gentleman away from a lady of whom he held in esteem? Or was the man a jealous husband who sought to caution Lindsey his current dalliance needed to come to an end? No matter the choice, an ugly emotion churned in her stomach and she forced her eyes away, only to bring them back again as she sought to make sense of the scene. Lord Mills’ expression offered nothing in way of understanding, no more than a mixture of satisfaction and concern.
“How well do you know the earl?” she pressed, though she really shouldn’t, her mother’s redundant advice ringing in her ears.
“Being new to the set, I assume you’ve learned he’s an unrepentant scoundrel.”
“Is that why you’re such good friends?” She strove to lighten the mood and was rewarded with Mills’ laughter. “Truly, I only ask out of curiosity.”
“I understand.” He nodded his agreement. “But he’ll never offer what you want.”
“What I want?” She could feel her brows rise high in reaction. Lord Mills’ exacting reply went straight to the point.
“What any genteel lady wishes for her future. A home, stability. Children.”
Each word struck a different chord in her heart. She wanted a home of her own and the domestic predictability it promised, but of children, she could only wish and dream. Most certainly, any titled gentleman would intend for his wife to bear an heir, perhaps several to secure the lineage. This latter consideration caused her spirits to plummet further.
* * * *
“Tell me what you know about the Decima and we can cease this unpleasant discussion.” Lindsey twisted Quinn Powell’s neckcloth tighter, but the man’s expression remained indifferent.
He’d only just met Mr. Powell through Mills’ instigation and the man’s nonchalant attitude irritated, never mind there was something unsettling in his demeanor. Powell’s appearance held striking similarities to someone Lindsey would rather not consider at the moment, the man at the core of his unrest.
“I have nothing to share, but if I did I would reserve that knowledge for my benefit only.” Powell’s tone went unchanged, though his complexion reddened.
“I can beat information out of you here or later, in the cardroom. At least if I gamble, I wouldn’t have to work as hard.” Lindsey thrust Powell away and turned, belatedly aware Caroline stood across the way. He almost doubted his vision. What was she doing here? He’d inquired if she’d accepted the Henley invitation and learned her family had declined.
In that moment’s hesitation Powell slunk away as quietly as a snake sheds its skin, dismissed to the periphery. Lindsey would find the man later and extract the information he desired. Now his attention divided, and his curiosity won out. How much had Caroline witnessed, and what the devil was Mills sharing with her? The viscount appeared far too comfortable at her elbow.
“Lady Nicholson.” Lindsey nodded his head in greeting. He reached where they stood in three strides. “I wasn’t aware you’d accepted Lord and Lady Henley’s invitation. Nevertheless, it is a pleasure. Have you traveled with your family?” He struggled to regain a modicum of decorum, his earlier mood, one of distraction and restlessness, dismissed.
“Mother only, and of course our maids.” Caroline offered him a strained smile. “Father refused to leave the city.”
He didn’t know what to make of that.
“Have I interrupted?” Her eyes flashed with intelligence.
The little busybody.
“Nothing of which you should waste a moment’s concern,” Mills interjected. The tone of his voice caused Lindsey to take notice.
“Are you out here alone?” Lindsey disliked how often he’d discovered Lady Caroline unchaperoned, and yet he’d taken advantage of that very predicament and enjoyed her sole attention whenever they’d spoken directly without the nuisance of another’s company. “Does your maid follow?”
“I left her abovestairs. No doubt she’s fatigued from the day’s travel,” Caroline supplied quickly.
Lindsey tamped down his urge to smile. She’d purposely eluded her maid and come out to the gardens alone. Why?
“Would you like to walk? I’d wager all those hours confined to the carriage have caused you a share of restlessness. I’ve heard the variety of flora maintained here is extraordinary.” Mills crooked his elbow in Caroline’s direction and Lindsey’s irritation grew.
He noted how her consideration darted from him to Mills and back again. Was she asking his permission or wondering if he would accompany them? Were all these questions that swamped his brain a result of a foolish infatuation? This was unknown territory. He was too accustomed to getting what he wanted without effort. He needed a drink and a thorough night of debauchery to cleanse his attitude.
“There’s nothing proper about an unchaperoned lady traipsing along the garden path with the likes of you, Mills.” He hadn’t meant for the words to sound so gruff.
“As if you’re the better choice. That would be asking the fox to protect the lamb, wouldn’t you agree?” Mills let out a brief chuckle. “We’ll join Lord Frampton and the ladies up ahead.” He indicated a gathering of six people several strides from where they conversed. “If we stay near the rear of their group, we’ll still have the luxury of conversation without appearing unseemly.”
“That would be a perfect compromise.”
Lindsey slid his eyes to Caroline, her use of the latter word curious. What had she hoped to accomplish when she’d rounded the bend? Did she look for him specifically?
He moved his gaze to where they intended to venture and then back again to watch Caroline loop her arm through Mills’ extended elbow. He didn’t like it.
They advanced down the gravel pathway to join the other
s, though they lingered behind Frampton’s congregation, sufficiently near enough to be considered above reproach but likewise out of earshot.
Being three persons on a two-person path, he lagged a stride behind. Better to take a moment to reconsider his immediate reply to anything Mills uttered and too, he didn’t mind the view of Caroline’s tempting bottom outlined by the gentle slope of her skirts. Today she wore his favorite color, which happened to be whatever color she chose to wear.
Mills’ voice interrupted his musing.
“The country air has brought a pink hue to your skin, Lady Nicholson. It becomes you.”
Lindsey kicked a rock with the toe of his boot. It was an innocuous compliment, and he wouldn’t bother remarking on it.
“Thank you, Lord Mills. For the kind words and lovely flowers as well.” She dashed a half glance over her shoulder.
He met her eyes with intent. She did have remarkable eyes, their depths full of wondrous mischief. Late afternoon sunlight illuminated her face and he detected a spark of invitation in her expression. Or was that wishful thinking on his part?
“Have you attended a hunt of this grand nature before?” Mills canted his head, as if genuinely interested in the lady’s reply. Perhaps he was. Perhaps this was a perfunctory conversation before Mills began his wooing in earnest. Lindsey kicked another rock. A larger one. It skittered forward and just missed the heel of Mills’ left boot.
“I understand it to be a spectacular event, although I consider it brutal in nature.” She stopped walking, her body turned so she could include both men in her reply, though it was clearly meant for Lindsey. “My cousins have remarked upon your masterful horsemanship and how the quality of your stallion prevents anyone else from having a fair go-around at the race. Is that true, my lord?”
Lindsey had stopped walking when she’d paused on the path, so he took an extra stride to close the space between them. There was a subtle bite in the air that indeed tinged her cheeks to a soft rose, and he wondered at the softness of her skin. He wasn’t looking for a May-December arrangement. He wasn’t in the market for a wife. And yet whenever he so much as looked at Caroline, his carefully constructed plans for the future may as well have never existed.
* * * *
Caroline kept her eyes on Lord Mills, as he’d turned to begin yet another conversation, but her body was most aware of Lindsey, a scant stride away and looking more handsome than the last time she’d seen him. Perhaps she’d never become accustomed to the manner in which he affected her. A tangle of anticipation and expectation wove tight between her ribs, down lower to swirl in her belly.
Why must he appear so charming? He was a man at ease in his own bearings, able to adapt to any situation, whether high society function or rustic pastoral gathering. Clearly, he didn’t give a fig about the ton’s perception, and in that earned their enchanted regard. There was no way for her to ignore his handsomeness, the straight strong angle of his jaw, or his penetrating stare made all the more remarkable by a long sweep of lashes, black as soot, or mayhap his soul. She couldn’t ignore a distinct antagonistic undercurrent existed when she’d watched him question the stranger. And it remained while he stood with Mills.
“I confess my opinion of the hunt is aligned with yours. In my mind, it seems a grisly sport where the fox is at the greatest disadvantage. Where’s the glory in an achievement such as that? To that end, I would never go so far as to sabotage the competition; I merely allow my horse the run and then capitulate. There’s no joy in killing such a clever animal.”
Lindsey’s reply was aimed directly at Mills, though he’d answered her question. Mills seemed unbothered by the remark.
“I’ve learned you’re contemplating marriage this season, Lady Nicholson.”
She inhaled deeply to restore her equilibrium and force her thoughts toward Mills’ question. “Have you now?” She glanced at Lindsey, and he met her gaze with promptitude. Did he await her answer in kind? “Is this what gentlemen discuss when away from the city? I assumed your conversation would focus on finances or livestock.”
“It is only because I believe we share this in common.” Mills canted his head. “I’ve also begun to think of the future with serious intent.”
“It’s no secret I’ve marriage on my mind.”
Behind her, Lindsey grunted. Or was it a growl? The sound didn’t matter, the tone conveyed his opinion effectively. But then he spoke up with deviltry in his eyes.
“Don’t settle for Mills. You have a wide selection of prime aristocracy on display this week.”
The three of them stopped walking as Lindsey continued, and she dropped her hand from her escort. Mills seemed anxious to speak, though he didn’t interrupt despite being insulted.
“Pro et contra.” Lindsey’s mouth twisted into that smile famed to knock women out of their slippers…even if he spoke Latin. “Consider the pros and cons. Debate which candidate has the most to offer you.”
“That sounds rather calculated.” And not unlike her mother’s relentless plotting for her to find a suitable match. Her mother’s advice forever suffocated Caroline’s spirit, and seemed to imply a woman’s most important goal should be to make her husband feel exalted and superior. She frowned, her brow pleated with dissatisfaction. “I’d rather choose my husband by the bidding of my heart.” She moved her attention from one man to the other. Mills appeared nonplussed, but Lindsey’s eyes widened the slightest before his lids lowered in lazy approval.
The silence stretched.
“Let us continue after the others.” Mills extended his arm again.
“Indeed.” Lindsey murmured from behind. “Let us continue.”
Chapter Fourteen
Dinner proved interesting. Caroline was genuinely surprised and pleased to discover Lady Henley had altered the arrangement so she and Caroline sat beside each other. It was a gesture of acceptance and honor. Caroline felt better for it, her equilibrium still off kilter after the odd collection of events in the garden. There was the scene between Lindsey and the dark stranger, Mills’ intimation the confrontation centered around the earl desiring a particular female, the honest bid by Lord Mills to court her, and Lindsey’s strange, sometimes surly, participation in their conversation. It was a blessing she’d only just arrived and had at least a week to sort out these incongruent occurrences.
The Henleys’ dining room was nothing short of palatial. An enormous table of black walnut monopolized the center with its generous width. Atop the damask linen, fine white plates gleamed, their reflective nature announcing they were likely the new and exceedingly expensive bone china from Staffordshire, an uncommon sight here in the countryside. A cacophony of lively chatter intermingled with the chime of silver. Perhaps she’d misjudged the degree of formality with this gathering.
Mother was seated mid-table, with a collection of other women nearer her age. Caroline appreciated the separation, as it would offer her more freedom in conversation. At the moment, she hadn’t sighted Lindsey but hardly half the seats were filled, as the dinner bell had only just rung.
“Lady Caroline.”
Lady Henley greeted her with a wide smile, and Caroline immediately relaxed. “Lady Henley, you look lovely.”
And her hostess truly did. While earlier in the day Lady Henley appeared fatigued, this evening she glowed in a gown of auburn silk with delicate floral adornments. Her hair was arranged away from her face, and anyone could see the lady was overjoyed with anticipation for the upcoming birth of her child.
Caroline drew a long inhale, at odds with sincere happiness for her new friend and an unresolved longing that twisted her heart into knots. It was everything she could do not to lay a hand over her own abdomen.
“Thank you.” Lady Henley indicated their places, and they waited while a footman rushed to pull each chair from the table. “I’ve found a late afternoon nap does wonders to restore my energy leve
ls.” She plucked a piece of crusty bread from a nearby silver tray at the center of the arrangement. “That, and a fair bit of indulgence.”
Dinner commenced with less fanfare than the atmosphere demanded, and Caroline found quick conversation with Lady Henley beside her.
“Please, call me Teresa.” Lady Henley touched a hand to Caroline’s sleeve. “I believe we were meant to become friends.”
“Thank you.” Caroline returned a smile. “In London my three cousins have made a concerted effort to include me in all societal affairs and current events, but aside from a few brief associations, I haven’t had the opportunity to cultivate a friendship beyond familial bonds.”
“Then let me be the first of many ladies who will share the pleasure of your lovely company.”
Their conversation paused as they accepted the first course, a steaming bowl of White soup, the aroma of ground almond, veal stock, and cream a delight to her appetite.
“I assume you have marriage on your mind.”
Lady Teresa’s next words were more statement than question, and Caroline met her gaze with a nod.
“Matchmaking has never been a preoccupation of mine, but I do wish you the best. Be careful in your choices and you’ll have happiness beyond your most far-reaching dreams. Lord Henley and I were an unlikely match. Several of my closest friends believed me a fool to set my eye on him, but once we danced and spent time in each other’s company, it was as if Fate had already decided for us.” Teresa lifted a steaming spoonful of soup. “It seemed like we were bound by a force beyond our own making. I thought of him day and night, counting the minutes until the next chance we might spend time together, and he confessed to having suffered the same delightful affliction.” She sighed.
“And now you’ll have a babe to add to your loving home.” Caroline dropped her eyes to Teresa’s rounded waist and then back again, unwilling to introduce her own discomfort by staring.
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