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Arabella nodded. “You’re right. I need to talk to her.”
The idea filled her with trepidation, but she reminded herself to be brave. There was no other way to reach for her dreams.
Chapter Twelve
The curricle in front of the townhouse was canary yellow and polished to a glossy shine. Caroline knew nothing of horses, but even she could see that the pair of bays hitched to the curricle were perfectly matched, down to the stars on their foreheads and their white forelocks. She and Susan were making their way home after visiting the shoemaker, and Susan cried out in delight and rushed down the street to see the horses up close.
A group of young bucks that Caroline didn’t recognize surrounded Jacob, slapping him on the back, their congratulations so loud that she could hear it up the street. Her heart sank, but then she noticed he was having words with Mr. Taylor, who looked a good deal more reasonable than his mischief-making friends.
“Wherever did you purchase such a rig?” Caroline asked. “Or such horses? Surely not in Inverley!”
“Of course not in Inverley,” Jacob said. “These fine fellows took me to London on a lark yesterday on the mail coach, and I came back today equipped like the gentleman that I am.”
An exhausting journey, but not impossible for a young man burning up with ambition.
“London?”
“Is it not natural that a baronet might make use of a curricle?” he asked in injured tones. His friends added agreeable voices to his own, nodding and swearing up and down that it was true.
Caroline exchanged a look with Mr. Taylor.
“I was saying to this young buck that he has no stables for such beasts.”
“Maybe I ought to be away to London in it again, then.” He darted a look at Mr. Taylor. Caroline’s heart ached to see the desperate ploy for attention from his hero, which he was trying to hide under a poorly constructed arrogant mien. “It could fit two.”
“You shall remain in Inverley until it is time for you to be in London,” Mr. Taylor said. “Or until your sister gives you leave. You still have much to learn from your tutors here.”
Jacob thrust the reins at a footman. “Being a bloody baronet isn’t much fun then, is it?”
“Watch your tongue, Jacob Reeve,” Caroline snapped.
“I’ve heard worse,” Susan piped up.
Caroline didn’t even wish to ask where. She turned to the footman. “Would you be so good as to drive the curricle to Martin House and to ask them to please keep it for the meantime while we make arrangements?” She hated to be indebted to the Martins, but they were the only ones that she knew had stables to spare. Drat Jacob and his foolish impulses. “This is the height of folly,” she said to him.
“It wasn’t that expensive,” Jacob muttered, before rattling off a sum that made her head spin. “On the curricle alone,” he clarified. “The horses were a fair bit more, but onemusthave horses!”
“Ifone can feed and keep them!”
“You are rushing into things, young cub.” Mr. Taylor slapped his gloves against his palm. “You are but twenty-one and have your whole life ahead of you. You must learn to think before you act. These rash purchases might gain you accolades and a round of drinks at the tavern with the lads, but it doesn’t suit your new station. You need to be wise.”
Jacob scowled at the pavement. “Yes, sir.”
“Into the house with you both,” Caroline told Jacob and Susan. Two of Jacob’s friends followed them, and the rest tipped their hats and sauntered toward town, no doubt in search of less tame entertainment than a house call.
“Thank you for speaking some sense to Jacob,” she said to Mr. Taylor once they were alone.
“Of course. I feel a sense of responsibility to your family, which I do not take lightly. After all, I am the one who brought all of this to you with your new situation. Jacob is family now.”
“I appreciate it. Thank you.” She hesitated, hating to ask anything from anyone. But Mr. Taylor had proven time and again that he was trustworthy. “Please could I ask a favor? If you could keep an eye on Jacob—he is young and spirited, but he could get into trouble with the wrong influences.”
“Anything for a Reeve,” he said, and followed her into the house.
Betsy was already holding court in the parlor with Lady Margaret and the pair of Jacob’s friends. Also seated with them was Lord Hanbury, who Caroline recognized from the assembly rooms. A bouquet of fresh roses was set on the mantel, no doubt courtesy of one of the bucks, and a box of sweets was opened on the table amidst half-empty cups of tea.
Caroline realized by the censure in Lady Margaret’s eyes that their at-home hour was already half gone. It was hard to remember that there were particular hours for receiving visitors, so accustomed she was to people coming by her house as needed.
Susan snatched up a chocolate nonpareil and squeezed next to Betsy on the sofa, enthralled by the attention of the men before them.
