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“Hmmm.” She crossed the room and sat down. “You're quite clever, Riverdale, but your plan may very well backfire. Blake can be very stubborn.”
James sat down across from her. “A fact of which I am well aware.”
“I'm sure you are.” She curved her lips, but it wasn't really a smile. “And are you also aware that I share the same trait?”
“Stubbornness, you mean? My dear Penelope, I would run unclothed across England in the dead of winter just to escape a battle of wills with the likes of you.”
“Nicely put, but if your little declaration fails to produce the desired results, you will marry Caroline.”
“I have no doubt that you will hold a pistol to my back until I do.”
Penelope's voice rose. “This is not a joke, Riverdale.”
“I know. But I meant what I said earlier. I need to marry eventually, and Caroline is a damned sight better than I'm likely to do if I go hunting for a wife in London.”
“Riverdale!”
He shrugged. “It's true. I quite like Caroline, and if I have to marry her because Blake is too cowardly to do it himself—well, then, so be it. Frankly, I can think of worse fates.”
“What a coil.” Penelope sighed.
“Don't worry. Blake will propose,” James said with a confident wave of his hand. “It'd kill him to see me married to her.”
“I hope you're right. Lord knows he needs a little happiness.” And then Penelope sighed and sagged back against the back of her chair. “I just want him to be happy. Is that so very much to ask?”
Outside the doorway, Caroline stood with her hand over her open mouth. She'd thought her humiliation was complete when Penelope had demanded that someone—anyone!—marry her. But this—
She choked back a sob. This went beyond humiliation. Humiliation was something she could live through, something she could endure and eventually put behind her.
But this was different. Something inside her was dying, and Caroline wasn't sure whether it was her heart or her soul.
It didn't matter which, she realized as she ran back up to her room. All that mattered was that she was hurting, and the pain was going to last the rest of her lifetime.
It took two hours, but eventually Caroline was able to compose herself. A bit of cold water reduced the puffiness around her eyes, and several minutes of deep breaths had managed to remove the quaver from her voice. Unfortunately, there wasn't much she could do to take her heart out of her eyes.
She made her way down the stairs and wasn't surprised to find James and Penelope still sitting in the drawing room. Their conversation drifted down the hall, and Caroline was thankful to hear that they had moved on to more ordinary topics.
They were discussing the theatre when she reached the doorway, and she knocked softly against the doorframe. James stood up instantly when he saw her.
“May I come in?” she asked.
“Of course,” Penelope said. “Here, sit by me.”
Caroline shook her head. “I'd rather stand, thank you.
“As you wish.”
“Do you know where Blake is?” Caroline asked, her posture as regal as a queen's. “I wish to say this only once.”
“I'm right here.”
Caroline whipped her head around. Blake was standing in the doorway, his body somehow rigid and weary at the same time. His cheeks were touched with color, and she wondered if he'd been walking in the chill night air.
“Good. I would like to say something if I may.”
“Please do,” Blake said.
Caroline gave each of the room's three other occupants an assessing glance and then finally said, “I do not require a husband. I certainly do not require a husband who does not require a wife. All I wish is to be allowed to remain here, in hiding, until my twenty-first birthday.”
