Authors: Marlene Suson
Chapter 24
It was a long time before Caro managed to stanch her tears and an even longer time before she returned to the ballroom, an aching void in her heart.
What a fool’s paradise she had lived in during the past fortnight. She had been told before she met Ashley that he made love charmingly. Now she could testify to the truth of that. It had lulled her into forgetting that a man did not have to love a woman to make love to her. Caro was, she realized bitterly, merely another one of his conquests. His heart still belonged to Lady Roxley.
Yet Caro could not ask for a gentler, more considerate husband. He had had to marry for an heir. But he had not had to marry
her.
He had been kind enough to do so to save her from Tilford, and now he was treating her with every courtesy, carefully concealing behind his ardent attentions that he did not love her.
Within a few days, his tender, skilled lovemaking had washed away all of Caro’s apprehensions and inhibitions, and she had gone wild in his arms. Her face burned with shame as she remembered the stunned look on her husband’s face the first time that it had happened. Terrified that such abandon was not at all the thing for a lady and had given Ashley a disgust of her, she had asked anxiously, “Why do you look so—so strange?”
“I am amazed by what a passionate little thing you are,” he’d replied gravely.
Little thing!
“I am not a child!”
“No, you are not, elfin,” he’d said, an odd timbre to his voice, and had pulled her tightly against him. “Go back to sleep.”
The comfort of his arms about her had quieted her doubts momentarily, and she had drifted off immediately.
But now, after overhearing him assure his mistress that she, not his wife, would always have his love, Caro was ashamed of her uninhibited behavior in his arms that betrayed as surely as words her feelings for him, while all he wanted from her was a son.
Caro was determined never again to make a cake of herself over Ashley, in bed or out, causing him to be sorry that he had married her. She would not hang on him like a lovelorn schoolgirl, as Lady Yarwood did on her lord, pining for a love that he could not give her and sinking herself below reproach in his eyes.
Instead, Caro would follow her stepmother’s advice and conduct herself as Abigail had with Levisham for so many years. Although she would be a model of amiability and politeness to her husband, she would treat him with a cool nonchalance that betrayed none of her feelings for him.
She would take care not to seem to want Ashley’s love, nor even to notice that she did not have it. It was not his fault that he could not love her—that his heart had been permanently engaged long before he had met her.
While this course of conduct would do nothing to ease the pain of her broken heart, at least her pride would not be in tatters. Her shoulders squared with determination, Caro returned to the ballroom, vowing to deceive the world—and her husband—into believing that she was having a magnificent time.
Deception did not come easily to her, but so determined was she that none of those many eyes watching the spirited bride suspected that anything might be amiss. Her performance, which would have rivaled one of Mrs. Siddons’s at her zenith, fooled even her mother-in-law and her husband.
Caro entered into the London social whirl with a gaiety and an enthusiasm that startled her husband. He failed to detect the desperation in her determination to fill her time with an endless round of social obligations. She was such a success that after a few days her mother-in-law, seeing her triumphantly launched in society, departed to rejoin her husband at his country seat.
Caro quickly acquired a retinue of admirers who surrounded her wherever she went. It was not long before the more elderly of the ton were whispering how much like her vibrant mama the young Lady Vinson was. True, she was not the great beauty the late marchioness had been, but was quite pretty in her own way, and so like her mama in spirit, charm, and outrageous tongue.
Although Ashley had expected his wife to be a hit, he had not expected her to become a toast, yet that was what was happening. Caro’s popularity, coupled with Ashley’s doting attention to her in public, quickly put to rest the stories circulating about why he had married her.
Soon the gossips had a new and far more scandalous tale to occupy them. Lord Lewis, returning unexpectedly to the city late one night from his country seat, found his wife absent from his London house and set out to find her. His quest ended in the bedchamber of his young son’s handsome dancing master, Mr. Nickerson, whose greatest talents reputedly were not on the dance floor. A duel was fought on the spot, ending in the demise of Mr. Nickerson. Outraged not so much by his wife’s infidelity as by her inelegant choice of lovers, his lordship threatened divorce.
Attempting to retain her reputation and her husband, his lady insisted that she had no notion of how she had come to wake up in the late Mr. Nickerson’s bed. The last thing she recalled was chancing to meet him, carrying two glasses of wine, as she was strolling down one of the paths at Vauxhall. He offered her one of the glasses, saying he could not find the lady for whom he had fetched it. Accepting it, she drank a little wine and quickly became very dizzy.
She remembered nothing after that until she was awakened by her husband’s arrival in Mr. Nickerson’s rooms. Clearly she had been drugged and abducted. Although the accused abductor was no longer alive to contradict her story, not a soul believed such a hum. It and its teller quickly became the butt of considerable ridicule. With this tale to occupy itself, the ton soon forgot the clearly untrue rumors about the Vinsons’ marriage.
Meanwhile, Ashley was as tender and solicitous toward his bride in private as public. Indeed; had Caro not overheard him with his mistress, she would have believed herself to be cherished, if not loved, by him, so attentive and devoted was he.
But now that she knew his attention to her was motivated by courtesy rather than affection, Caro found it increasingly painful. Above all, she did not want to seem pathetic by wearing her heart on her sleeve or hanging on him. As her circle of admirers grew, she increasingly kept Ashley at a distance, making it clear to him that his gallant attention to her was no longer necessary now that she had her own devoted court.
If he preferred his mistress to her, she would show him that she preferred her admirers to him, even though, in truth, none of them could measure up to her husband in her eyes. If only he could experience a little of the jealousy she felt whenever she thought of him with Lady Roxley.
But if Ashley did, he gave no sign of it. Initially, he had been clearly puzzled by her treatment of him, asking her what was wrong. But, having sworn that she would never vex him about his mistress, she could not answer. Instead, she professed ignorance of what he could be talking about.
He, in turn, grew cooler toward her and more distant. Although he remained unfailingly courteous, he no longer stopped at her room at night but continued down the hall to his own. Which was just as well, for it had been during those most intimate moments that Caro found it most difficult to sustain her cool charade. Indeed, only the memory of what Ashley had told Lady Roxley kept her from failing miserably and betraying her true feelings.
He did not offer to squire her about as frequently as he had before. Caro, secretly yearning to have him at her side, soon found herself wishing her hapless escorts to Jericho. He was often gone at night, offering no explanation of where he had been. But Caro needed none. She knew that he was with Lady Roxley, and her nails would bite into the palms of her clenched hands.
Adding to Caro’s misery was the realization that Ashley did not seem to care in the slightest that she had attracted so many admirers. If only he would be jealous of her ... But he was immune to that affliction where she was concerned. Or so Caro thought until the night at Lady Castleton’s ball.
She arrived there on the arm of young Lord Aleem. Caro would rather have gone with Ashley, but not once during the past four days had he offered to escort her anywhere. She missed his company dreadfully, and found Aleem, who had just reached his majority, excessively boring compared to her husband.
Shortly after their arrival at Lady Castleton’s, the hostess came up to her with a man who looked to be about forty. Despite a certain hardness to his features, Caro thought him very handsome for one of his advanced years. She had noticed him earlier in the evening when he had been surrounded by pretty women.
“This gentleman has been begging me to introduce you,” her ladyship said.
Caro’s eyes widened in surprise. He was years older than her other admirers and had an air of cynicism about him that made her think he would prefer more sophisticated women than herself.
Seeing her reaction, he gave her a charming little bow. “You see, I like to know my relatives, and your marriage has made you one.”
“Oh!” Caro exclaimed with dawning comprehension. “You must be Henry Neel.”
The hard gray eyes narrowed. “So your husband has told you about me. I suspect he was not flattering.”
“It was not he who told me of you.” When she had asked Lady Bourn about her husband’s relatives, her mother-in-law had said that there were virtually none left except Henry, the family’s black sheep, a distinction earned by his prodigious talents for gaming and seducing wellborn ladies. Later, she had listened to the countess and the duchess of Carlyle discussing some of Henry’s less admirable exploits.
Henry said mockingly, “But, cousin, someone did tell you about me, and he was clearly not laudatory.”
Ever candid, Caro asked, “Are you as bad as they say you are?”
“You must tell me how bad that is before I can answer,” he replied with a careless smile.
Intrigued by his indifference to his reputation, Caro observed, “I do not believe you care in the slightest what anyone says about you.”
“You are as astute as you are pretty, my petite.” Rather flattered by this compliment, Caro allowed him to lead her to two red velvet
tabourets
along the wall, where he entertained her with subtle compliments intermixed with mocking comments on the personalities and peculiarities of their fellow guests. He was, she concluded, the most entertaining man, except for her husband, to be found in London. That was why she let him monopolize her for the remainder of the evening..
They were sitting in a quiet corner of the supper room, enjoying cold chicken and champagne, when Ashley strode in. His face took on the dark aspect of a thundercloud when he saw his wife and his cousin. He greeted Henry curtly and told Caro, “Come, we are leaving.”
“But—” she started to protest.
“I said, we are leaving,” he snapped in a tone that permitted no demur.
Once in their carriage, he was uncharacteristically silent on the ride home, sitting stiffly on the seat well apart from her. Casting him a surreptitious glance from beneath her lashes, she saw in the dim lamplight that his lips were drawn into a thin, angry line.
When they reached Bourn House, he escorted her to her room. Opening the door for her, he turned and momentarily blocked her way, informing her in the coldest tone she had yet heard from his lips that she was to have nothing more to do with Henry.
Caro’s heart gave a little lurch of hope. “Are you jealous of your cousin, my lord?” she asked.
“What a shatterbrained idea!” Ashley exclaimed disdainfully. “Don’t be ridiculous!”
His contemptuous response rankled Caro, who, despite it, was convinced that jealousy must be involved. “Then why are you ordering me to stay away from him?”
“Because he is dangerous! His reputation with women is notorious. You are playing out of your league with him, child! Stick to the callow youths, such as young Aleem, who will do you no harm.”
Caro’s anger boiled over at Ashley’s calling her a child and at his dismissing her admirers as callow youths. “I will associate with whom I please,” she cried, pushing furiously past him into her room.
Her defiance fired his own anger, and he snapped, “Take care, Caro! I will not tolerate a wife who involves me or my name in a scandal!”
She whirled around, glaring at him. How dare he talk about her and scandal! What of him and Lady Roxley?
Anger and jealousy overruled her good sense, and she cried, “What will you do, my lord? Divorce me?”
“Yes!” he snapped. “Remember that when next you flirt with my cousin!” He turned on his heel and was gone, slamming the door hard behind him.
Chapter 25
Caro, beset by tumultuous thoughts, lay awake until dawn lightened her room. Her thoughts oscillated between fear that Ashley might divorce her and rebellion at his treatment of her. How grossly unfair of him to demand of her a far more exacting standard of conduct than he embraced for himself.
Having no bosom bow or loving relative at hand to whom she could unburden her unhappiness over Ashley’s liaison with Lady Roxley, she kept it locked up in her heart, where it had been festering. If only she could tell Ashley how miserable she was, but she had given her word that she would never vex him about Lady Roxley. Caro had made a bargain and now she must keep it.
At last she fell into a restless sleep. When she awakened late in the morning, Ashley had already left the house.
She asked Boothe when he was expected to return. “Not until late, I daresay, for the Four-in-Hand Club meets today,” the butler replied.
“I daresay you are right,” Caro replied, trying to hide her disappointment. The club’s members, including Lord Sefton with his bays, the marquess of Worchester with his grays, and Ashley with his chestnuts, assembled in Hanover Square for a spirited drive to the Windmill at Salt Hill, where they would partake of a magnificent dinner.
Ashley had not yet returned when Caro departed for a squeeze at Lady Farthe’s. She left word where she had gone in the hope that her husband would follow her there.
Upon her arrival, Henry Neel immediately appeared at her side. Her thoughts, however, were so preoccupied with Ashley that she scarcely knew what Henry said to her. She kept looking toward the door in the hope that Ashley would appear there even though she knew how angry he would be if he saw her with his cousin. Her sorely wounded sensibilities still rebelled at his denying her a harmless flirtation with his cousin while he was committing far more scandalous acts with his mistress.
When at last, a few minutes before midnight, Ashley’s tall figure appeared, Caro held her breath, caught between pleasure that he had come, and anxiety over what he would do upon seeing her with his cousin.
What he did was turn on his heel and disappear into the card room, leaving Caro blinking after him in disappointment. She did not seem him again that night. He was not yet home when she returned to Bourn House. He arrived a few moments after her, but his footsteps passed her door without pause on his way to his own.
During the next few days, she scarcely saw Ashley. He seemed always to be gone from home, and when they did chance to meet there, he greeted her curtly. To her horror, she realized that the breach between them was widening into a gulf.
She thought wistfully of all the good times they had had together before he had introduced her to society: their rides in the early morning; their billiard games; their quiet times, full of laughter and good conversation, together. How she longed for those moments again.
Finally, desperate to have him to herself for a little while, she told him that she wished to resume riding in the park early in the morning as they had done when she first came to London. She expected Ashley to offer to accompany her. But, instead, he merely said coldly that he had no objection to her riding at that unconventional time so long as she was accompanied by a groom.
Disappointed, she nonetheless decided to avail herself of this opportunity, using the ride as an antidote to her intense unhappiness.
Although her husband neglected Caro, Henry did not. It occurred to Caro that since she had been introduced to him, he suddenly seemed to be everywhere that she was. More than coincidence had to be involved, and Caro, feeling flattered, rebelliously accepted his attentions. He was charming to her and most entertaining. Although he had about him the aura of danger and forbidden fruit, which makes a rakehell so irresistible to young, inexperienced girls, it was not that which attracted Caro. Rather, it was her conviction that her husband, even though he professed otherwise, was jealous of his cousin.
Caro did not, however, intend to be one of Henry’s conquests and was careful never to be alone with him. When he learned of her morning rides in the park, he offered to accompany her, but she refused. When he began to press for more than her companionship at parties, she told him with her characteristic bluntness that she would never be unfaithful to her husband.
He left her abruptly, and she thought that would be the end of his attentions to her. But to her surprise, he was back at her side the following night, acting the part of a perfect gentleman.
Caro would have been shocked to learn that she owed Henry’s change of heart to Lady Roxley, on whom he had called earlier that day. It had been Henry’s second visit to her ladyship.
His first call on Estelle had been on the day that Lady Castleton had introduced him to Caro.
On that day Lady Roxley had been seated at the three-legged bonheur du jour in her sitting room, thinking how slowly time had passed for her since Lady Jersey’s ball.
When Estelle had seen Caro at Madame Balan’s, she had been overjoyed. The child was even worse than Percy Plymtree, who had never before been known to indulge in understatement, had said. No wonder Ashley was reluctant to introduce her to society. Estelle had left Madame Balan’s secure in the conviction that Caro would never be her rival for Ashley’s affection. Caro might have his name, but Estelle would always have his love.
So certain was she of this that the moment she had seen him at Lady Jersey’s ball, she had insisted on leading him, despite his reluctance, to a little room where she could be private with him. There, she had put her arm about his neck and uttered those fatal words about never having to worry about Caro stealing his love away from her.
Her jubilation had vanished at the blazing anger in his eyes.
“No, you need not fear that you
will
lose my love to Caro,” he had said in a strangled voice, “for you
have already done so
.”
He had jerked her arms from about his neck, his emerald eyes blazing like green fire. “What an enormous debt of gratitude I owe my father for preventing me from marrying you.”
Before Estelle could recover from her shock, he had turned and stalked back into the ballroom.
At first, despite all the evidence to the contrary, she could not believe that she had actually lost him. But as the days turned into weeks and she heard nothing from him, she could no longer deny the truth. Her pride made her try to maintain the fiction that she and Ashley were still lovers. When gossips pointedly talked of how devoted he was to his bride, she intimated that despite his careful public front with his bride, he had discreetly increased his private attentions to his mistress. She was determined that she would do anything, no matter what it was, to get him back.
Then Henry Neel called to ask that she use her influence with Vinson to stop him from trying to connect Henry to William’s death.
Estelle immediately remembered the nasty rumors that had circulated after William’s fatal crash and the inquiry that had been held. Clearly, from what Henry said, Ashley now believed that his cousin had been involved. Although Estelle had never discussed this possibility with Ashley, she was careful to make Henry think otherwise. “Will Ashley find the evidence he is seeking against you?”
“Unfortunately, I have an associate who is an affidavit man. He will swear to whatever he thinks will be most rewarding to him. At the moment, he is enjoying a vacation in Wales at my expense, but Vinson is offering a large reward for information on his whereabouts. I fear it may be only a matter of time before someone sells it to him.”
That was when Estelle conceived her scheme to win Ashley back. At the very least, it would destroy his marriage and his wife’s reputation. Ashley would never know of Estelle’s involvement in his wife’s ruin because Henry would be the instrument that carried it out.
Delighted with her own cleverness, Estelle immediately launched her plan with a pitying smile. “You are a fool, Henry, if you think that I or anyone else could persuade Ashley to stop pursuing the truth about his brother’s death. The best you can hope for is to force his silence or, failing that, discredit what he says about you in the eyes of the world.”
“And how the devil am I to do that? If I cannot stop him from asking questions, I can hardly force his silence on the answers. Even less could I discredit his word, for he is well known to be a man of integrity.”
“Let me tell you how.”
When Estelle finished, Henry said with reluctant admiration, “What a diabolical woman you are. I cannot like using Vinson’s wife as the instrument to obtain his silence.”
Estelle shrugged. “It is the only instrument that you have. You know how the family abhors scandals involving their name.”
“True, but—”
“I would not think that a man facing the gallows would have such scruples about using an instrument that can save him from them.”
That night, Henry asked Lady Castleton to introduce him to Caro. Despite his best efforts, however, the little bride proved stubbornly resistant to his seductive techniques. Her declaration that she would always be faithful to her husband had sent him grimly back to Lady Roxley.
When Henry entered her sitting room, she was again at her bonheur du jour.
As she rose to greet him, he told her angrily, “Your plan is all to pieces. The bride refuses to be compromised.”
Lady Roxley shrugged. “That does not matter in the least, thanks to Lady Lewis. Now, Henry, here is what you must do.”
Returning from her morning ride with Sam, her groom, Caro was surprised to see Ashley’s traveling coach stopped in front of Bourn House. He had said nothing to her about making a journey. Hurrying inside, she found Mercer Corte in the hall with her husband. Caro asked Ashley whether he was going away.
“Merce and I are journeying to Brighton.”
Feeling bereft at the prospect of London without her husband, she asked, “When will you return?”
“Late tomorrow at the earliest, but I may be gone for two or three days.” His eyes were somber. “I wish to be private with you for a moment. Step into the book room with me.”
Much alarmed by his demeanor, Caro complied. As he shut the door behind them, she said anxiously, “You look as though someone has died.”
“Someone has, but it was some months ago.”
“I don’t understand.”
Instead of explaining, he said without preamble, “Despite my wishes, you have continued to flirt with Henry. Please believe me, elfin, when I tell you that it is only your welfare that concerns me. I did not ask you to stay away from him because I was jealous of him—for I am not—but because I believe he means to do you harm.”
“What nonsense!” Caro scoffed. “Why would he want to do that?”
“If my father and I die before I produce a male heir, the Bourn title and estate would go to Henry. If you were to become pregnant, the child would stand between him and that inheritance.”
Caro gasped. “Surely you cannot think that Henry—”
‘I think that Henry killed my brother. However, I lack proof, which I think can be supplied by a man named Chester Moking. I have been searching for him in vain for weeks now. This morning I received word that he is in Brighton. That is why I journey there. Mercer is going with me because he has twice seen Moking and can identify him.”
Caro stared at her husband in disbelief. “Henry cannot be a killer!”
“You are too trusting, Caro,” Ashley said grimly. “Before I leave, I want you to give me your word that you will have nothing more to do with Henry.”
“I will not do so,” she said flatly. “I find your suspicions ridiculous.”
“Do not be such a naive, softhearted little fool!” Ashley exclaimed in exasperation.
Stung, she cried, “I am not a fool!”
“You are if you trust Henry.” Ashley’s voice was low and urgent. “Now, give me your word that you will have nothing more to do with him.”
“No,” she said stubbornly, certain that Henry would never harm her.
“Your word, Caro. Now!” her husband snapped, his patience with her clearly at an end. “You are delaying Merce and me. If you do not stop acting like a willful, foolish child, I shall be forced to treat you like one by locking you in your room while I am gone. Which will it be?”
Caro knew from the hard set of his face that he would do what he threatened. He looked for all the world like a stern father dealing with an unruly daughter. Although she was furious at him for treating her like this, she could not tolerate the embarrassment of being confined to her room. Sullenly, she capitulated, mumbling, “I give you my word.”
His penetrating green eyes examined her silently for a moment, as though he were trying to decide whether she would keep it. The fact that he could doubt her word, no matter how reluctantly given, further fueled her anger.
Finally, he said softly, “Thank you, elfin.” He put his hands on her arms and would have kissed her, but Caro, still seething, pushed him away, saying coldly, “I do not wish to delay you and Mercer any further.”
Ashley looked as though she had slapped him. He turned on his heel and stalked from the room. A moment later, she heard the front door close behind him and Mercer, then the sound of the carriage moving off.
A sudden thought doused Caro’s anger like a dash of ice water. If Henry had killed William to remove him from the succession, her husband, too, was in grave danger.