by Julie Daines
“Well, I didn’t like putting it in a letter, and I want you for Saturday, but if something’s the matter with our grandmother—dash it, we’ll have to figure out something. Hire a nurse?”
“I’m not leaving her. She broke her arm!” Caroline frowned at him, unwilling to believe he spoke in earnest. “If you think for half a minute, you’ll realize she needs me. She’s in pain, rattled by the fall, and I’m not leaving her with only servants, most of whom were hired with the house!”
“Yes, but—” He turned his hat in his hands. “Listen, Caroline. I’ve been getting to know Mr. Snaring—”
“Him? Or his niece, the heiress you’ve been going on about?”
“Both. I hadn’t heard, and he was late coming up to town, but he lost his wife over the winter.”
He couldn’t be suggesting . . .
“He’s a prominent speaker in the House of Lords, has a financial stake in a newspaper—”
“I see.” Her pulse throbbed in her temples. “You recommended me, sight unseen, and he was willing?” It was utterly insulting.
“It wasn’t quite like that. He’s simply anxious to pursue your acquaintance.”
“Then he should come to Bath.”
“He’s got small children,” Kit said. “Surely you understand he can’t do that. Not while the House is sitting. It’s the wrong time of year.”
“Have you any luggage?” Caroline asked.
“Just my cloak bag. I didn’t think—”
“Clearly. I’ll see it’s taken upstairs. We’ll find you a room. I suggest you freshen yourself up before you see Grandmama.”
Kit followed her up the stairs. Outside her chamber, he caught her arm. “I thought you’d be pleased. You said you were missing London.”
“I was, then.” Caroline shook him off. If she didn’t find some privacy to recover her temper, they’d soon alert more than the housemaid who’d ducked out of sight coming upon this nasty scene. Caroline quivered with accusations.
“Don’t pretend, Caroline. This is more than Grandmama,” Kit said. “Who’s Jack? You called for him.”
“A friend. Grandmama and I made his acquaintance here in Bath.”
Kit’s eyes narrowed. “French? A doctor?”
Surprised betrayed her. “You know him?”
“Dash it, Caroline.” Kit stretched his tired shoulders and took a short circuit around the hall. “It’s true, then?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” But she was unexpectedly nervous.
“I heard reports—”
“From whom?” Caroline demanded. Once she knew who dared—and what was Kit about, listening to reports?
“Rawlings.” Kit scratched beneath the edge of his shirt collar.
“Grandmama’s maid?”
“She—she keeps watch on her for Uncle Warren. And me,” he admitted.
“You have spies on us?” Unbelievable. At least of Kit. Uncle Warren was another matter.
“Not you!” Kit hastened to explain. “Just Grandmama! We never thought you would give any trouble—”
“Which is why you let Grandmama carry me here to Bath,” Caroline finished.
“She is difficult. You must admit that.”
“But she’s not a dirty spy!” Caroline retorted. She licked her lips and let out a breath. “You’ll have to excuse me, Kit. It’s time for me to take Ormonde for a walk.”
* * *
Her dog bridled when Kit insisted on following them to the door. Caroline silenced Ormonde’s growling with a single command, but Kit wasn’t so easy. All the way he argued with her, saying she couldn’t object—they were family!
“That’s what disgusts me.” Yielding to her temper, Caroline slammed the door. On the pavement, a lady with a parasol stared.
“Come, Ormonde!” Caroline sniffed as she walked past.
* * *
All morning, through lunch, and into the afternoon, Jack held imaginary discussions with Caroline. A wasted exercise. If it weren’t that she loved him, he’d stop their acquaintance, leave Bath, and find somewhere to nurse his wounds. The trouble was, she did. Love just wasn’t the star to guide her.
Duty to her name and her brother would chart her through life, and because this was an honorable choice, he couldn’t argue with her. She loved him; he loved her, and if this was all there was to be, he must not spoil the time they had with each other.
You knew from the start this was how it would be. They had only a few weeks left, and due to her grandmother’s misfortune, he had an excellent excuse to frequent her company. Perhaps in time . . . No. She’d been engaged to Sir Robert more than two years. She hadn’t known him nearly long enough.
Eluding Henrietta’s more probing questions, he restocked his bag and went out. The half-mile walk to Camden Place put him in better frame. He was glad the Arundels had insisted on bringing him to Bath, glad even Henrietta had exposed his unlikely background, since it had given him the chance to know Caroline—and to love her.
Unexpected news greeted his arrival. “Mr. Trenholme asks first to speak with you,” the butler reported.
Mr. Trenholme? “Caroline’s brother?” Jack asked.
Nodding, the butler showed him into the library. The Honorable Member for Penryn sat at his desk, writing. He didn’t look up or invite Jack to take a chair. Faintly, from the drawing room, came the sound of a hasty, mercilessly executed Bach concerto. Jack waited until Caroline’s brother put down his pen. This was the end, then.
“I’d like you to refer another physician to my grandmother,” Mr. Trenholme said.
“She’s unhappy with my care?”
“No. But I’m aware of the tendre developing between you and my sister. I must ask you to put a stop to it.”
“Caroline has told you this?” He thought she’d be braver than that.
“No. She admits nothing, but I’ve heard tales from a person within this household. Caroline travels with me to London tomorrow, and I must ask you not to interfere with her departure.”
“I would never presume to interfere with Miss Trenholme’s decisions,” Jack said.
“That’s not what I am asking. I want you to encourage her to go.”
The cold creeping over him eased a little. Jack caught his breath. “She doesn’t wish to leave?”
“She refuses to. I—”
“Thank you, Mr. Trenholme.” Jack bowed. Ignoring Caroline’s sputtering brother, he went to find Caroline. She stopped playing when he entered the room, her fingers suspended over the keys.
Jack shut the door and leaned his shoulder against it. “I had my suspicions, but he’s worse than I thought. You have a perfect ass for a brother.”
Behind Jack, someone rattled the door. “Edwards! Caroline!”
“You see? He proves my point. Just a moment, Mr. Trenholme,” Jack called.
At the piano bench, Caroline clenched her hands together until the knuckles blanched. “It’s utterly humiliating.”
He hadn’t meant to do this, but in light of the circumstances . . . “Will you reconsider my offer?”
“I think of it all the time. But I can’t marry you to spite my brother. We still hardly know each other, Jack.”
“And what we feel isn’t enough?”
“Marriage is for a lifetime. I—”
“I know.” So her brother’s arrival didn’t change anything. Jack smiled. “You aren’t meant to share mine. Should we see your grandmother?”
“I think so.” Caroline got up and smoothed her skirts. “Kit, go back to your hotel,” she called through the door. “I’m not having you upset Grandmama.”
“Caroline, I’m warning you—!”
“Unless you intend to remain in Bath to support our grandmother in her distress, I recommend you return to London. I have no wish to speak to you nor meet any of your friends. And you may tell the same to Uncle Warren!” Her voice rose at the last, and she bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Jack. I never meant to drag you into this.”
; Jack opened the door. Kit stumbled into the room, righted himself, and went on as before, in a smoldering temper. Caroline ignored him, leading Jack up the stairs. Kit remained below.
“Has he gone?” Lady Lynher asked.
“Not yet,” Caroline sighed. “I’m glad you have reason to need me, because I expect I’ll be sharing your roof for some time.”
“Don’t say it like it’s a penance!” Lady Lynher retorted.
“Forgive me.” Caroline smiled. “Will you let Dr. Edwards look at you?”
The countess showed dark and quite remarkable bruises, but otherwise nothing to concern him. When she conspicuously motioned them away and shut her eyes, Jack allowed Caroline to detain him in the far corner of the room.
“I’m so sorry,” she began.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Jack told her. Though he’d happily thrash her brother.
“Will you come again tomorrow? Kit won’t be here, not if I must have him thrown out the door.”
Jack glanced over Caroline’s shoulder. Lady Lynher might be peeking, but he kissed her once and pushed back a few falling strands of hair. “Caroline, I’m leaving tomorrow.” He hadn’t made the decision, but he accepted it, from the moment her brother refused to offer him a chair.
“Leaving? Why?”
Because it was the only thing he could do. He smiled. “I found my cure, so I must get back. I can’t leave my patients forever.”
“But—”
He stopped her with his lips. This one would be the last. “Until one of us left Bath, is all. We never said how long that would be.”
She swallowed. “I’m sorry you must go.”
Not as sorry as he. “Take care of your grandmother. You’re a good physic for her. You’ve been a good one for me.”
“You—you won’t be unhappy?”
“From time to time.” Liar. “I am quite attached to Ormonde.”
Her lips trembled. “Jack.”
“Shh.” He nodded in the direction of her grandmother, who could not possibly be sleeping. Now was the time to leave, before the joke faded away. It wouldn’t take long. “You’ll give my best wishes to the countess?”
“She’ll be furious with you,” Caroline said. “But she’ll understand.”
“Goodbye, then.”
“Goodbye.”
Perhaps she sensed the limits of his resolve because she remained in the room as he left. He hurried from the house, ignoring Caroline’s scowling brother, wishing he wasn’t lashed by memories of kissing Caroline in the hall or on the third stair. It wouldn’t always hurt this badly. It couldn’t.
* * *
Staring at the door by which he’d gone was excessively tragic, especially with Grandmama pretending she wasn’t watching. Caroline composed her face into something less stricken and returned to the bedside, taking one of the chairs.
Crocodile-like, Grandmama opened an eye at her. “Don’t blame me.”
“I don’t.” Caroline wanted to, but she couldn’t even blame Kit. His interference certainly sped Jack’s departure, but Jack would have left eventually. “Better this way,” Caroline murmured.
Grandmama snorted from her pillows.
“Would you like me to read to you?” Caroline asked. Grandmama’s refusal was as much disheartening as it was a relief. The effort of pretending all was well was beyond her, but without distractions, she would have nothing to do but think.
Kit took his starchy, formal leave an hour later. Caroline was too angry to do more than nod at him.
Word of Grandmama’s accident spread. By the following afternoon, they were set upon with callers who brought flowers, cordials, and offers of company. Fearing the parade would tire her grandmother, Caroline attempted to divert most of them until she saw how Grandmama reveled in it. Arrayed in her prettiest wrapper and a dainty lace cap, she accepted the sympathy of her acquaintances like a queen receiving offers of fealty. In spite of the pain in her arm and the attentions of a new, less-liked physician, she was in high spirits and spent all of an hour closeted with one friend, a middle-aged bishop, son of one of her oldest friends.
Caroline, who couldn’t sleep, was glad of it. With Grandmama happily occupied, there was no one to peck at her or notice how badly she performed for company. Except Ormonde. Tired with her inattentiveness, he chewed her newest pair of slippers to shreds. Instead of scolding, Caroline took him out for a walk, reminding herself all the reasons why marrying Jack was impossible. They’d barely met. Tying herself to a man she scarcely knew was the height of foolishness. She’d liked and respected Robert—known him for years—and yet she’d never suspected him capable of that final drunken folly. In the end, she had known less of him than she’d thought.
More certain, though, was her position and that of her family—though she was entirely fed up with Kit and her uncle. If only Kit would treat her as an ally, instead of a pawn! To Uncle Warren, she might as well be a piece of furniture. Just now, the only one she liked was Grandmama, who wouldn’t hold with such a marriage, for all she’d encouraged the flirting.
“There’s a long face,” Grandmama observed when Caroline returned, finding her, for once, alone. “Missing that doctor of yours?”
“Yes.” But it would pass. Caroline deflected scrutiny with a question whose answer meant nothing to her. “How long did you listen to Lady Margaret?” The only thing she truly wanted to know was if Jack was home yet. Or, more honestly, was he as miserable as she?
That evening, Caroline passed Lady Arundel in the park. Mustering a smile, she received a curt nod in return. Not undeserved, Caroline admitted to herself, hurrying away with Ormonde. She went out the next morning to the bluebell wood. It was every bit as lovely as before and utterly desolate. Caroline found their patch of ground and sat hugging her knees. She allowed herself to cry, but the tears didn’t spark any healing of her heart, and her list of reasons for refusing his proposal felt more threadbare than ever.
Heiresses of excellent family married titled and important men, and she was trained to be a political hostess. Jack, gentleman that he was, had refrained from pressing her. Yet he could have. How stupid, to make such an argument to a man who’d been born a count. Her own ambitions and sense of importance seemed foolish. Jack wasn’t the man birth decreed him to be—and he didn’t complain of it. He was remade, and his pride made it clear he wasn’t ashamed of any of it. Why had she been too small-minded to see?
It was coming on dark by the time she got home.
“You’re back.” Grandmama looked up from the letter in her lace-mittened hands.
“I’m sorry I was away so long.” Caroline kissed her.
“I’d started to wonder where you could be.”
“I hope you didn’t send out a search party.” Caroline set to work tidying the bedside tray, wishing it were possible to right her course so easily.
“I shouldn’t do that,” Grandmama protested. “I thought perhaps now that your brother has taken himself away . . . Well, if you had eloped, I’d be the last one to—”
“Grandmama!” Caroline looked at her, unable to keep her hands from trembling. “Do you think I would ever—”
“I hoped.”
Caroline was still. “You can’t be serious.” An elopement? Well, in the face of Kit’s opposition, they could hardly wed otherwise. She felt sick.
“Sit down, Caroline.”
Dropping numbly into the chair, she scarcely noticed when Grandmama picked up her hand.
“Why won’t you marry him?”
Caroline brushed a hand across her eye.
“I have all sorts of excellent reasons.”
“Understandably. Forgive me, but they don’t seem enough. You’re wilting without him.”
“I daresay I’ll recover.”
Grandmama nodded. “One does, eventually. But why should you have to, my dear?”
Caroline gave a watery smile. “I already refused him. I could hardly—”
Grandmama tsked at her. �
��Goodness, everyone knows a lady can change her mind.”
“He may have changed his.”
“I don’t think so.” Grandmama patted her hand.
“Even so, I can’t imagine you’d like us bolting to Gretna Green!”
Grandmama shuddered. “When I thought you might have gone with him today, it was my one complaint. So unnecessary. You are of age. That doctor of yours might lack the ready, but—”
Caroline groaned, looking up at the ceiling. “You think we should marry by special license?”
“It certainly has more style.”
Caroline hiccuped once and dissolved. After all the tears she shed in the wood, she couldn’t tell if she was laughing or crying. She missed Jack, missed him with her kidneys and her littlest fingernail. “I suppose you’ll flatten me now by telling me to trust you with the arrangements.”
Grandmama huffed. “Well, you’re wrong there. You'll have to speak with him. But I thought it prudent to acquire a license.” Caroline stared, long enough that Grandmama flustered, plucking at her lace mittens. “Always useful, knowing a bishop.”
“Enough!” Caroline pleaded, wiping her eyes. “Grandmama, I can’t!”
“You’re a fool if you don’t! I’m amazed you’ve done nothing all this time. Every day, I expected him to come back for you.”
Caroline shook her head. “He wouldn’t. Not after I refused him a second time, and not after Kit—”
“I’ll never understand why you coddle your brother so much. He’s quite insufferable.”
“Just now, I’m inclined to agree, but—”
“You should abandon him. Kit will never make anything of himself if you don’t. A good setback will be just the thing.”
Caroline didn’t feel up to arguing, no matter how absurd Grandmama’s reasoning. “I can’t abandon you to chase after Jack!”
“Pride is a terrible thing, Caroline. Don’t trouble about me. I’ll be quite all right if you’re back within a week. You won’t get a honeymoon, but—”
Caroline’s eyes narrowed. “Is this a ploy so you can get back your doctor?”
Grandmama shook her curls. “It’s true I haven’t much confidence in this new fellow, but that’s hardly the point. You, my dear, need to decide what to make of your life. It’s not what you’ve planned, but I think you could do very good things for that man’s career.”