Lady of Pleasure (10 page)

Caroline froze and slowly turned back to her sister, trying not to let her mind linger on the secret she had kept from all of her sisters about why their father had really moved out to the cottage. Her father had long since redeemed himself in her eyes, which was why she never spoke of it. Because he had moved into that cottage to live simply and prove that he was a man capable of being faithful to the ideals of a husband and a father, separate from the wild parties and the women. He had to lock himself away in the country and in a cottage to do it, but he had done it.

His last year of life had been his best.

A lone tear unexpectedly trickled its way down her cheek. Caroline swiped it away. Holding her sister’s gaze, Caroline offered in a soft, broken tone, “Of course I loved Papa. Very much.” Too much. She swiped at another tear that had escaped.

Mary plopped back onto her heels and stared her down with a seriousness that went beyond the age of twelve. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Caroline smiled tightly. “I know.”

“Tonight is a very special night for you, yes?”
“Yes. I plan on sharing my first dance with Lord Caldwell.”

Mary jumped off the bed and padded toward her. Embracing her, she whispered, “Be sure not to give him any more than three dances. I hear it isn’t respectable. And you know me. I know all about respectable.”

A choked laugh escaped her. Yes. Leave it to Mary to know all about death
and
respectability.

Two hours later

The Whittle House

What was far worse than all the heat, and the smell of fading perfume mingling with the stuffy night air, was being at the mercy of her brother who was annoyingly intent on marrying her off to
any
man, as long as he was wealthy, titled and ‘respectable.’

Only five men in London met those criteria.

And all of them lived with their mothers.

Which was why Caroline did her best to avoid her brother
and
said men by staying close to her
own
mother.

After roaming every corner of the ballroom for almost two hours with her mother, wondering if she’d somehow misheard the announcement of Caldwell’s arrival earlier that night, she sighed and decided to abandon all thoughts of sharing a dance with him. Drat him.

A movement within the crowds caught her eye. She paused.

An elegant woman with lightly silvering, rich mahogany hair, garbed in a stunning, alabaster silk and lace gown sashayed toward her. A small, crescent scar graced the upper tip of her arched brow giving her a mysterious, exotic look. Her pale neck was draped with a large, intricately engraved gold locket.

It was like a character had magically stepped forth from the pages of
The Arabian Nights’ Entertainment
. All the woman needed was a flying carpet and a prince.

The lady inclined her head to Caroline as if they knew each other.

Caroline hesitated but politely inclined her head, in turn.

The countless pearls woven into the woman’s mahogany hair gleamed against the vast candlelight of the ballroom as she promenaded closer. She paused before Caroline with a sumptuous grace that only years of practice could perfect.

Snapping open her ostrich fan, the woman leaned in, bringing a delicate scent of verbena and offered from behind the fan, “Forgive the intrusion, Lady Caroline, but Lord Caldwell wishes to meet you out in the nearest alcove, away from the crowds. He hopes you will oblige.”

Caroline felt a rush of heat flooding her face. Though the woman knew her name, she hadn’t even bothered to introduce herself. Caroline glanced toward her mother who was intently watching the couples dance before scanning the crowds surrounding them. Too many faces made it difficult for her to see if Caldwell was, in fact, anywhere nearby.

The woman closed her fan with the roll of satin gloved fingers. “Is there a response you would like me to deliver to him?”

Caroline lowered her chin. Who was this woman to Caldwell that he would entrust her with such a message? And in public? Something told her not to engage it. For all she knew this was how the
ton
initiated unsuspecting debutantes into the realm of scandal-ridden fame. “I would think any gentleman making such a request of a lady is no gentleman at all. Therefore I will not even dignify it with a response.”

That distinguished face became more intrigued. “Surely, given your great affection for Lord Caldwell, he has earned far more respect from you than that.”

Caroline’s breath hitched. Who was she? And how did she know about her affection for Caldwell? Not even her brother knew of it. “’Tis obvious I missed our introduction, madam. I am Lady Caroline. And you are?”

“A friend.” Amber eyes intently held hers. With the tip of her fan, she pointed off to their side. “Follow him out in a few minutes when he leaves the room. Only don’t be too obvious. You don’t want anyone to suspect.” Inclining her head, the woman departed.

Several older gentlemen stepped aside for her regal frame, all of them inclining their heads toward her, and with rehearsed respectability only allowed their beady eyes to follow her as she sashayed into the crowds and disappeared.

What was that? Caroline glanced in the direction the woman had pointed.

A tall, broad-shouldered blond gentleman in full evening attire lingered in the distance.

Her heart skidded. It was none other than Caldwell talking to her brother and a few other men. Caldwell leaned in listening intently to the conversation being offered him as several of the men, including her brother. Caldwell laughed in response to whatever was being said, the deep sound floating toward her. His rugged face brightened as he rumbled something out, his mouth quirking between words.

She stared longingly at him.

Black, thigh-hugging trousers tapered narrowly down the length of his long, muscled legs toward a pair of polished, black lacquered shoes. His black evening coat was expensive and emphasized his broad shoulders beautifully and his starched white cravat was knotted and arranged meticulously, as always. He looked like a flawless gentlemen who owned the world as opposed to the humble gentlemen who she knew struggled to survive.

To those who didn’t truly know him, including her own brother, he exuded a rakish persona. Caldwell had played that role with her for many years until that day in the receiving room three years earlier when he gave her his coin for safekeeping and unveiled a man who struggled to keep his head high. From that moment, she had cherished knowing he had finally shared who he really was.

She swallowed as he excused himself from his conversation with her brother and the group he was with. Glancing toward her, he jerked to a halt and stared.

Her heartbeat throbbed in her ears. Had he truly asked to see her in the alcove?

He smoothed his cravat against his throat and slowly inclined his head toward her, intently holding her gaze with his smoky dark eyes.

Was it possible that he…?

Averting his gaze, he quickly wove his way out of the crowds in the opposite direction from where she stood and disappeared into the corridor outside of the ballroom, into the gallery and beyond.

Toward the direction of the alcoves that were all out of sight.

Her heart almost flopped to the floor knowing the message had been authentic, after all. He was waiting for her. Heaven on high.

Quickly rounding a couple in her way, Caroline veered in close to her mother and tried to remain calm. “Might I speak with you for a moment?”

Her mother turned away from the direction of the dance floor she was watching, her features brightening at seeing her. “Of course, dear. What is it?”

Caroline lowered her voice. “Caldwell asked that I join him for a small while in one of the alcoves well outside of the ballroom. Might I?”

Her mother’s green eyes sharpened as she brought her fan up to her lips, to cover their conversation. “People will talk.”

“I won’t be gone long. Nor will I let anyone see us together. I promise.”

Her mother sighed. “Ten minutes. Anything more and I will hunt you down.”

Caroline gave her mother a gushing smile. “Thank you, Mama.” She bustled past her and everyone else, no longer caring about formalities.

This was
her
night. She could feel it.

Curving around several couples, she wove toward the very back of the ballroom and out into the vast, candlelit corridor. She paused, spying Caldwell striding toward the end of the corridor. He slipped behind a red velvet curtain leading into one of several secluded alcoves.

It rustled into place as if he had never been.

Glancing around, to ensure no one was watching, and noting that there were no footmen positioned against any of the walls, she hurried down the corridor. Toward the alcove Ronan had disappeared into. She paused one last time to confirm she was indeed alone and let out a breath. Pulling aside the heavy curtain just enough to slip through, she quickly disappeared inside, letting it fall closed, and edged into the small space leading to a row of French windows that reflected the moonless dark night beyond.

Seeing Caldwell leaning against the brocaded wall alone, she veered in close to that tall, muscled body. “And I thought you were avoiding me. How are you?”

His lips parted as his startled dark-brown eyes captured hers. “Caroline.”

She grinned, trying not to be
too
nervous. “Regrettably, I only have ten minutes.”

He stared and rasped, “Ten minutes for what?”

Her grin faded and her face now simmered and gave way to prickling heat, knowing full well what he meant. “For conversation,” she blurted.

“Conversation?” He glanced at the closed curtain, adjusting his coat around his large frame again. “Why are you here?”

She blinked rapidly. “Uh…I…because you asked me to be, didn’t you?”

He swung back toward her, his dark searching her eyes. “Oh. Yes. Yes, I did.”

She sensed he was ruffled. “Is something wrong?”

“Why would something be wrong?”

“I don’t know. You’re acting very strange.” She hesitated and knew she had to ask about the lady with the crescent-shaped scar and the locket. “Who was the lady you sent over to speak to me? The one with the small scar above her brow. She was very beautiful.”
He shifted his jaw and eventually offered, “Yes. She is. I’ve uh…I’ve known her for some time now.”

“Oh. For some reason she didn’t introduce herself. Who is she?”

He adjusted the sleeves on his coat. “A friend of mine.”

Caroline quirked a brow. A friend? He had never mentioned this woman in any of the letters they had exchanged prior to this moment. “And does this friend of yours have a name?”

He shoved both hands into pockets, hooking his thumbs out. “Lady Danbury.”

Caroline paused. She knew that name. Her mother had once mentioned a tragedy relating to the Danbury name. A young boy who had tragically died in his own home. In the Danbury home. Years and years ago. “Didn’t her brother die in some sort of an accident? Wasn’t he young?”
He half-nodded. “Yes. His name was Harris. She never talks about what happened to him, but she uh…she always carries a portrait of him in a locket.”

The locket. The gold locket around her neck. Caroline brought a hand to her throat at the thought of it. “I can’t even imagine losing any of my siblings. I don’t think I would be able to survive it.”

“Fortunately for me,” he murmured, “I don’t have any siblings to worry about.”

They eyed each other in glum silence.

She had certainly poisoned the mood of what little precious time they had together. How on earth did one move on from a conversation about a dead boy? One didn’t. Caroline bit her lip and awkwardly arranged her skirts.

He watched her intently, skimming her appearance, but still said nothing.

Knowing she had to break the cumbersome stillness she had unintentionally created, she leaned in toward him and asked, “So why did you want to see me? What did you want to talk about?”

He bumped back against the wall, wedging his hands behind his back. “Don’t lean in so close, Caroline. It really isn’t necessary.”

She tightened her hold on the fan dangling from her wrist, sensing he was panicked by her presence. “I’m sorry.”

Silence pulsed between them again.

He lingered but now wouldn’t meet her gaze.

It was obvious this wasn’t going anywhere. She honestly didn’t know what to make of it. It was like he wanted to be with her but…didn’t. She set a trembling hand to her stomacher knowing it. “I should probably go,” she murmured, trying to hide her disappointment. “Before anyone notices I’m gone.” Knowing she ought to say more about the awkwardness between them, she added, “It’s all right to be nervous. I’m nervous, too. I feel much has changed between us since we have been apart, but please don’t pretend like we’re strangers. Because we aren’t. We have shared too much to ever be that. Or at least…I hope.” She nodded and slowly turned toward the curtain to leave.

His gloved hand jumped out and grabbed her arm, whirling her back to him.

Her breath hitched as he yanked her against himself. “Caroline,” he rasped.