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Charles frowned, though it looked more like a pout. “But we expected you to breakfast with us.”
“I would, but we’d miss the early—” He stopped as Eleanor reappeared in the doorway, a much subdued looking Caroline just behind her.
“My apologies for our unceremonious departure,” she said, her smile careful as she glided into the room. “One of the seams on the back of my gown tore when I sat and I was unaware of it until I rose from the pianoforte. It would have been unseemly for me to remain.”
He was saved from having to say anything by Rowena. “I presume the matter has been corrected?” she asked coolly.
“Yes. Caroline summoned Fran and the damage has been repaired.”
Rowena’s gaze rested on her for a long moment before turning to Caroline, whose head was still bowed. “Thank you, Caroline. It was good of you to render assistance.”
“It was my pleasure, Your Grace,” said the girl.
It was an effort for Sorin to keep his mouth from dropping open. The change in the redhead’s demeanor was astounding. But whatever had happened between the pair to elicit such a dramatic transformation, he knew he wouldn’t learn of it tonight. “I’m afraid you’ve returned just as we were leaving.”
Eleanor’s gaze snapped up to meet his, and his heart warmed at the disappointment in her eyes. “I thought you were to overnight with us?”
Oh, no. He knew better than to give in to the desire to remain near her.
Rowena again stepped in and saved him from having to
answer. “The gentlemen are obliged to be elsewhere at dawn,” she explained. “We must not keep them further, as it is already late. I shall send for your horses to be brought around.” She crooked a finger at the footman attending them. When he had gone, she turned back to the men. “We look forward to seeing you again Thursday. You and Lady Wincanton will join us here and we shall start out together, I presume?”
“Yes, along with Sir Yarborough and his mother,” Sorin reminded them. He watched, irritation filling him as a flush crept into Eleanor’s cheeks.
“Yes, yes. That is correct,” said Charles with a peevish look at his wife. “Pity the lad could not join us tonight, but the arrangements had already been made and there was simply no time to add him to the party. Had I known you would be leaving so soon…”
It was a deliberate dig. Sorin knew he would have to explain later and hope his friend forgave him. “A pity, indeed. Perhaps next time.” He turned and bowed to the ladies. “Lady Ashford, Lady Eleanor, Miss Caroline.”
“We bid you safe journey and good hunting tomorrow,” said Rowena with a dignified nod as the others curtseyed.
“Thank you.” He watched Eleanor from the corner of his eye while Marston said his farewells.
Eleanor’s careful smiles and Caroline’s unusually submissive manner practically shouted that some significant exchange had transpired between them. Whether it had ended in a clean victory or an uncomfortable stalemate was anybody’s guess.
He and Marston found their horses waiting for them. Mounting, they rode in silence until they’d passed beyond the torch line. “I apologize if I’ve inconvenienced you,” he said to Marston. “Given the circumstances, I could not imagine it would be good for either of us to remain.”
“No, indeed not,” said the other man, his tone grim. “And it is no inconvenience, provided you lend me something suitable to wear tomorrow morning. Truth be told, I’m grateful you pulled me from the trenches. Unfortunately, Ashford seemed quite put out over our defection.”
“I’m sure he’ll forgive us both once I explain the situation between you and Miss Caroline.”
A sigh sounded in the night beside him. “I suppose it would be best for him to know the truth of it, though I’d hoped to spare her the embarrassment.”
“I hope you won’t think ill of me for saying it,” Sorin said drily, “but any embarrassment the lady suffers is due entirely to her own inability to hold her temper in check.”
“She has an impetuous nature, to be sure,” conceded Marston. “But unlike you, I find her candor refreshing. So many women bury their true feelings behind an impenetrable mask. With Miss Caroline, one always knows where one stands…whether it’s in the warm sunlight of her happy regard or the cold shadow beneath her heel,” he said with a chuckle. “For the moment, I see only the bottom of her dainty slipper—but I’m looking up.”
Sorin couldn’t help but laugh. It seemed overloud against the soft backdrop of crickets and frog song. “Bollocks, man. You are the most optimistic fellow I’ve ever known.”
“It’s not optimism, my friend. It’s desperation, pure and simple. I’ve sunk so low in her esteem that up is the only direction remaining open to me.”
Sorin grimaced in the dark. He’d been in the same situation himself only recently. It was a sobering thought. “I’m sure she’ll come around.”
“Perhaps,” murmured Marston. “I’d hoped to begin making amends tonight, but Fate seems to be set against me. She still paints me the villain of her fairy tale and will believe nothing else.”
“Perhaps I can ask Eleanor to try to—”
“No,” interrupted Marston. “I could never ask such a thing. It would only set her against her friend. Still, Lady Eleanor appears to be a good influence on her. They must’ve had quite a chat indeed. I’ve never seen Miss Caroline so…docile.”
