Lady of Seduction (33 page)

He sat beside her, watching the activity around them in silence. His hat was pulled low, casting a shadow over his expressionless
face. He had said hardly a word since they left LaPlace behind, only what was necessary as they rode hard across the countryside.
It was as if he already withdrew from her into a place where she could not follow. Where he would not let her follow.

At last, it was their turn at the gate. The farm cart ahead
of them rolled on with its load of squawking, malodorous chickens, and the barouche behind them pressed at their heels with
squawking human passengers. The soldier who seemed to be in charge examined her closely, his hard eyes narrowed.

Caroline sat up straighter in the saddle. She might be tired and wind blown, tanned from the days under the sky, but she was
a lady. She would not be intimidated by anyone, not after all she had seen and done. She stared back at him steadily.

“And who might you be, miss?” he said. “You wouldn’t be coming from Kildare, would you?”

Before Caroline could answer, Grant edged his horse between her and the soldier. “This is Lady Hartley,” he said, in that
cultured, contemptuous accent she remembered so well from the “old” Grant. “And I am Sir Grant Dunmore. I’m charged with seeing
her safely to her sister, the Duchess of Adair. Your commander wouldn’t like it if you were to impede the sister-in-law of
a duke, would he?”

The soldier swallowed hard as Grant stared at him steadily with hard, golden-brown eyes. “I have no wish to impede her ladyship,
sir. If you have some identification…”

Caroline had no identification of any sort. All her papers were long lost at the bottom of the sea. But Grant drew out a document
from inside his coat and handed it over. The light flashed on a gold signet ring on Grant’s smallest finger, a piece she had
not seen him wear for a long time. The soldier gave it a cursory glance and waved them through.

Once they were through the bottleneck of the gates and into the city streets, the crowds fanned out and the noise was not
as loud. Everyone seemed to be hurrying on the
everyday errands of a warm summer evening, maidservants walking by with market baskets on their arms, fine ladies in feathered
bonnets flying past in their carriages on their way home to change for the night’s parties. But there were more soldiers there,
too, marching in formation down the street or loitering in doorways with their firearms on prominent display.

The smells of the city, the sweet ladies’ perfumes, roasted meats, and sugary spiced almonds from vendors’ carts mixed with
the tang of human waste in the gutters and the fishiness of the river, all blended with something acrid and odd. Something
very like fear. She remembered that smell too well from ’98.

Grant looked at her from under that shadowy brim, and she saw a flashing glimpse of his intense tenderness as a lover in their
private bedroom. “Are you all right? It’s been a long journey.”

Caroline nodded. “I’m just a bit tired. I’ll be glad for a hot bath and a real bed.”

“Henrietta Street isn’t far now.”

“Henrietta Street? My town house is near Rutland Square.”

“The duke and duchess are at Henrietta Street. I’m sure you must be anxious to see your sister.”

She was eager to see Anna, desperate to see her in fact. But how did he know they were there? And what would happen when they
saw her with Grant?

But he was already far ahead of her on the street, and he didn’t look to see if she followed. Infuriating man! She tugged
at the reins and hurried to catch up with him.

“You shouldn’t be alone right now, Caro,” he said. “You’ll be safer with your sister, at least for now.”

“How do you know that?” she asked. “What’s going to happen?”

“I don’t think anyone knows what’s going to happen. But you have to stay out of it, whatever it may be.”

Yet he knew more than he would say, she could sense it. They made their way past the streets of shops, the rows of narrow,
respectable town houses, and onto the wider lanes of the Ascendancy’s grand mansions. He was quiet as they went past the large,
silent edifices of pale, austere stone with glossy black doors and shuttered windows.

Everything seemed so quiet in these aristocratic streets. Once in a while, a maid would scurry along the walkway or a curtain
would twitch. Even Henrietta Street, one of the grandest, oldest addresses of all, was quieter than usual. One carriage clattered
past, so fast that the painted crest on the door was blurred, and a maid scrubbed at a set of marble front steps. Near the
end of the street was her family’s house, all soaring columns and classical carved pediments.

It had once been her sister Eliza’s house, part of her widow’s settlement from her first marriage, and she had used its vast
rooms and hidden corridors for her work with the United Irishmen. After Eliza left for the Continent, Caroline and Anna and
their mother used it when they were in the city. It was certainly grand, but Caroline preferred her own cozy house and now
left Henrietta Street to Anna and her children.

“Are you sure they’re here?” she asked as Grant helped her from the horse. “It’s very quiet. Perhaps they—and everyone else—have
gone to the country?”

“No, they are here, and so are their neighbors I’m sure. Matters in the country are even more uncertain, at
least for some people.” Grant took her arm, and she felt strangely reassured by his strong, warm touch. He wasn’t gone yet—he
was still with her.

Caroline pounded the brass lion’s head knocker on the door and listened to the solid thud of it echo inside. It suddenly swung
open, and to Caroline’s surprise, it wasn’t the butler who stood there but Anna herself.

“Caro!” she cried, and grabbed Caroline in her arms. “Oh, Caro, you’re here at last. I’ve been so horribly worried!”

Caroline held on to her sister and tried not to break into sobs. Anna smelled of her own perfume, white roses and jasmine,
and her golden hair was soft on Caroline’s cheek. How she had missed her sister!

And Caroline realized that there had actually been moments on this long journey when she feared never to see her family again.
She had pushed it away until then, concentrating only on the next moment, the next town. But now that fear was transformed
into a fierce wave of love and relief.

“Let me look at you,” Anna said. She held Caroline at arm’s length and took in every inch of her. “You’re not hurt?”

Caroline laughed and tucked a long lock of tangled hair behind her ear. “Just saddle sore and not very presentable.”

“And such an interesting fashion statement.” Anna herself wore a fine day dress of blue-embroidered white muslin, as soft
as a cloud, and a blue cashmere shawl. Pearl-tipped combs held her blond curls in their elaborate coiffure, and pearl drops
hung from her ears.

Of course, Anna would be a fashion plate even in the face of a rebellion. It was part of her bravery.

“It’s been a long journey,” Caroline said. “I didn’t have time to find a modiste.”

“You never do. And I want to hear about every minute of this journey of yours. Don’t think I’m not furious that you lied to
us about where you were going! I have been off my head with worry.” Anna glanced past Caroline—and her expression froze.

Caroline had half-forgotten Grant in the rush of reunion, but now she sensed him close behind her. He stood very still, almost
like one of the Roman statues lining the marble foyer—stoic, watchful, and wary.

Caroline held on to Anna’s arm and half-turned to Grant. He had removed his hat, and the light from the frosted window above
the door cast strange, fractured shadows over his scarred face. His hair fell over one shoulder as he bowed.

“Your Grace,” he said quietly.

Anna’s arm was stiff under Caroline’s touch, but she didn’t run at Grant and claw his eyes out as Caroline almost expected.
She didn’t move at all.

“So it’s true,” Anna said. Her stare never left Grant, but she reached out with her free arm and drew Caroline even closer
to her. “I almost didn’t believe Conlan when he told me you were coming.”

“Conlan
knew
Grant was coming here?” Caroline cried out. Suddenly she was more confused than ever. Nothing had been as she expected or
planned ever since she set foot on the boat to Muirin Inish. It was all more complicated, more terrible, and more wonderful.
But this…

Anna’s arm tightened. “Thank you for bringing my sister here. Conlan is at McMaster’s Tavern with the others. He’s expecting
you.”

Grant bowed again, and with not another word, he
turned to leave. As he opened the door, the bright light of day spilled into the dim foyer, dazzling and blinding.

“Grant, wait!” Caroline called. She broke away from Anna and ran after him. On the front steps, she caught his arm and kissed
him, hard and desperate. He was slipping away from her, and she didn’t understand what was happening. She didn’t know how
to hold on to him.

He kissed her back, and he felt so wonderfully familiar to her now yet so full of dark depths she had yet to explore. She’d
thought she could let him go when the time came and go back to her old life. But she didn’t want to do that now. She wanted
more of him, more of what they’d found together so miraculously.

He gently set her back from him with one brief kiss on her temple. He touched her hair, his gaze following that caress as
if he wanted to memorize what it looked like, felt like.

“I have to go,” he said.

“Will I see you again?” she asked.

“Yes.” That was all he said, but Caroline knew that a “yes” from Grant was a promise.

He kissed her on the cheek once more, softly, and then he turned and went back to the horses tied up on the street. Caroline
watched as he swung up into the saddle and left the house. She lingered until he turned the corner and was lost from her view.
The street was quiet again.

She felt Anna’s touch on her hand and glanced back to find her sister watching her with sadness in her blue eyes. Sadness,
yes, but not anger. Not even any surprise.

“Come inside now, Caro,” she said. “You must be hungry and tired.”

She
was
tired, bone-deep tired, but not only from the
journey. It had been exhilarating and strange, teaching her things about herself and the world—and about Grant—that she could
never have imagined. She had learned she could be strong and brave, and that Grant could be kind. They had both found themselves.
That wild ride surely wasn’t over yet.

Anna led her into the drawing room, stopping only to instruct the butler to arrange for food and for “Lady Hartley’s” room
to be prepared at once. Caroline almost didn’t know who Lady Hartley was anymore; she had become a stranger to herself. She
sat down gratefully on a blue satin chair by the open window and studied the room. It hadn’t changed since she left. The fine
blue and yellow damask draperies, the gilded French furniture and paintings, the fanciful plaster roses wreathing the ceiling;
they were all just the same.

Somehow she had been sure the whole world transformed while she was gone, but it seemed to have remained perfectly still.

Anna moved her workbasket from a chair next to Caroline’s and sat down, watching Caroline the whole time. “The children are
having their naps, but they’ll be overjoyed to see their aunt Caroline when they wake.”

Caroline smiled. “I’ll be overjoyed to see them, too. I’ve missed them terribly, and you too, Anna.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to find Grant Dunmore?”

“Tell you I was going to find Grant?” Caroline said with a laugh. “So you could stop me?”

“Of course, I would have stopped you. That island he hides away on sounds like an absolute wilderness, and he’s—well, he’s…”

“I know. He is Grant Dunmore. But he has changed so much, Anna. He’s not the same man he was back then.”

“So I have heard.”

Caroline looked at her in surprise. “You’ve heard?”

“Yes, I’ve learned quite a great deal about Grant in the last few days—from Conlan.”

Caroline slumped back in her chair and crossed her arms over her waist. She wasn’t sure she could take many more surprises.
“I think you had best tell me what you mean, Anna dear.”

Anna pressed her lips together as if she didn’t want to say any more.

“Anna! Surely I have a right to know. Whatever is happening here, I’m a part of it now whether you like it or not.”

“Yes, I suppose you are,” Anna said sadly. “And I know the terrible feeling of being left out, not knowing what’s happening
to the ones I love. Conlan didn’t tell me everything, either, until I threatened to go out and search for you myself. You
are our baby sister; we always wanted to protect you, to let you have the life of study you loved so much. We didn’t want
you involved with anything unpleasant.”

“Oh, Anna. I am not a baby now.”

“No indeed. You are a grown-up, widowed lady.” Anna nodded and said, “You see, Caro dear, Grant has been working with Conlan
for many months now.”

McMaster’s Tavern near the docks was deserted. Only one man sat drinking in the corner, his greasy hair falling forward to
hide his face. The bright sunset was dimmed
by the narrow windows, and the smell of spilled ale and old cigar smoke was stale in the air. It was as if the place stood
still in time, waiting for whatever was going to happen next.