“Yes, yes, you are right. My great-great grandfather had just been granted the title of viscount by the king and went about acquiring the property from his estranged brother. It was a bitterbattle, of course, since my great great grandfather believed himself to be the rightful owner and thought that his rank would afford him anything he wished. While my great great granduncle was not willing to part with the abbey that had already become his family home.”
“Oh my,” Elizabeth said in a tone that was far too intrigued to be genuine. “How exciting.”
“Now, I suppose it is. But at the time, it affected many people adversely. Though I do believe there is a small mercy in the fact that the abbey would have remained in the family no matter who took charge of it.”
Caroline stopped listening. She moved mechanically as she prepared her tea, each motion slow and precise. While Lord Sotheby dazzled her mother with the riveting history of his ancestral home, Caroline imagined what her heroine would do in a situation such as this.
She would have spoken rather sternly to her mother, not caring that they had company, and marched out of the room without looking back. Caroline wished she could be like that. She wished she had done that when her mother announced betrothal to the late Viscount of Winterbourne. She wished she had the courage to tell her mother about her secret life as Robert Winters. She wished she had the gall to look her mother—and Lord Sotheby—in the eye and tell them that she had no intention of marrying again, let alone spending time with a gentleman she had no interest in.
Instead, she stayed quiet and cursed herself for being such a coward.
“Oh, dear, look at the time,” Elizabeth gasped suddenly, when Lord Sotheby was still going through his seemingly endless story. “I completely forgot that there is a letter I had intended to send to a friend of mine. She is waiting on my response, you see. It will not be long.”
Caroline was already setting her untouched tea down. “That is good timing because I too had something I needed to do.”
“Oh, you needn’t leave right now,” Elizabeth said hastily. “I shan’t be long. I would hate for Lord Sotheby to have to leave so soon. Stay, Caroline. I’ll be back soon.”
Caroline gaped at her, protests and warnings blaring in her mind. But she said nothing as her mother got up and hurried out of the room, leaving her alone with Lord Sotheby. If she had been unmarried, she never would have pulled such an obvious stunt.
“I must thank you, my lady,” Lord Sotheby said after a quiet, uncomfortable moment.
Caroline didn’t look at him. She picked back up her tea to keep her hands from curling into angry fists. “For what, my lord?” she pushed through gritted teeth.
“For choosing to stay. I was quite happy when Lady York invited me to tea, since I longed to share in your company again. You have been on my mind every day since the day I met you.”
Oh, how she would have loved to hear such words from another gentleman. Perhaps someone taller than Lord Sotheby, with broader shoulders, and perhaps a brooding countenance that only made him more inviting.
She ignored the possibility that she might have just been describing the Earl of Colenhurst.
“That is rather kind of you to say, my lord,” she said at last, when she realized that there was an uncomfortable delay in her response.
“Please.” He reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder. “Call me James.”
It took every ounce of her strength not to leap across the room at the touch. She tried to smile but was almost certain it appeared as an awkward twist of her lips.
“May I ask what business you needed to take care of?” Lord Sotheby asked. If he was privy to her discomfort, he was doing a very good job of pretending he wasn’t.
The truth was, she wanted to go back to her room and continue writing, but she couldn’t tell him that.
“I…had agreed to help Louisa in the gardens.”
“The gardens?” He raised his brows in surprise. “Miss Tilbury has a rather unusual hobby. And you would partake in the activity as well? At this time of the year?”
“I see nothing unusual about it,” Caroline responded rather defensively. “Must a lady only enjoy horticulture by gazing upon it and commenting on how lovely it looks and smells?”
Lord Sotheby nodded slowly. Caroline didn’t think he was pretending. He genuinely seemed oblivious to her rising ire. “It would be the most ladylike approach to it, I’m certain.”
“No one cares what is deemed ladylike,” she grumbled.
“Society does,” he pointed out.
“Pardon me, my lord,” Caroline spoke again, trying her best not to show how miffed she was. “Perhaps I should have said that no oneshouldcare what society thinks.”
Lord Sotheby only looked at her for a long moment while she paid keen attention to her now cold tea, which tasted bland on her tongue.
At last, he said, “Forgive me. I have upset you.”
Caroline didn’t respond. Which she hoped was all the response he needed.
