AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It is not my place to say,” she began, but his look reminded her that he had on more than one occasion given her permission to speak freely and she had certainly availed herself of that option. “I think you have done well in giving Lady Lydia time to make up her mind. She might not see that now, but I do think that she will come ‘round.” They agreed that the lady’s icy demeanor had lessened as of late, albeit slowly. The duke was hopeful that the ease of their past could be established once more. Caroline thought that all that it might take for such a goal to be achieved was for the duke to be as forthcoming with his betrothed as he had been with his maid. Hadn’t these few evenings in his company had a similar effect on Caroline? Hadn’t they eased some of the distrust and fear that she had once felt in his presence? The more they talked and the more she grew to take comfort in his quiet tone and deep rumbling laughter, she was beginning to wonder why she had ever thought that he was corrupt at all. She found herself nearly ready to unburden herself and trust him, when the butler knocked on the door.
“I have a letter for you, your Grace,” he said.
Caroline snatched up her dust cloth and fled from the room.
When next Carolinefound herself serving Lady Lydia a tray of cucumber sandwiches, crispy bread, and a decadent bowl of blackberry preserves, it was all she could do not to put in a good word for the duke. The lady was alone in the parlor as she waited for the gentleman to return and partner her on a ride through Hyde Park. She knew that she ought to keep her mouth shut. She did not know Lady Lydia well enough to be in her confidence, but she did know the duke quite well.
“How wonderful that his Grace intends to give up his military contract,” she had offered before she could stop herself. Caroline had continued to suspect that if Lady Lydia was unaware of this information, it might be a cause for her hesitance in giving her heart back over to the duke.
Lady Blackwell’s cool eyes narrowed and her attention fell upon Caroline’s face with a look of horror at having been spoken to.
“My apologies, m’lady.” Caroline curtsied. “I only meant that it must be a relief for you, to know that he shall remain… safe.” She hadn’t known how to finish or even what she had meant to say. The look that she was being leveled with had made each word increasingly awkward.
Lady Blackwell’s face morphed into an angelic grin. Caroline allowed herself to take a breath of relief. When the lady leaned forward and beckoned Caroline with the crook of her finger, Caroline bade.
“When I’m the duchess,” she whispered. “If you ever again speak to me out of turn, I’ll have you dismissed like that.” She snapped her fingers. The friendly smile was gone and again her cool eyes stared straight through Caroline. An act. “Do I make myself clear?”
Caroline nodded, muttered her apology, and excused herself from the room just as Lord Edward was entering. His gaze followed Caroline so closely that she felt as if she had spiders crawling over her skin wherever he looked.
“Really, Ed?” Lady Lydia’s disapproval rang loud against his chuckle.
“It’s just a bit of fun,” the male voice responded.
CHAPTER15
The leaves were turning and the first frost had crusted the ground outside the window. In the study, Caroline and Lord Robert had thrown the curtains open and were standing shoulder to shoulder looking out at the golden leaves that drifted down around the London streetlamps. The bright colors had dimmed the grey of London’s daytime activities and, looking out upon the emptiness of Hyde Park, as the trees stretched branches towards the heavens, Caroline thought that she could almost pretend that it was the rolling hills and dense forests of the countryside. Someday, when she felt safe again, she might ask her father to bring her to London again. She had not wanted to travel with Father in years, but she now found that she never wanted to feel trapped in one place ever again. With an ache in her heart, she wondered if there was any chance that she might be returned to her father in time for the holiday festivities.
The duke had returned from his ride alone and gone straight to his study. When she joined him several hours later, Caroline had sorrowfully admitted that she might have been the one to put Lady Blackwell in a fractious mood. He had assured her that, according to Lord Blackwell, the lady had been cross long before her meeting with Caroline, of which he had been well informed when she had requested Emily’s dismissal. He had half-heartedly laughed off the encounter as if it were usual for Lady Blackwell to take her personal moods out on the help, or perhaps those around her in general. She had gotten into an argument with Lord Edward as well, he had clarified, although he was not sure about what. Only that Lady Lydia had told his brother that he was not welcome upon their ride and Edward had laughed and wished the duke luck in surviving the barbs of his betrothed’s tongue.
Caroline wanted to dislike Lady Lydia, but she also knew that the female’s behavior was not unusual. Not that it was an excuse, she thought, but many noble ladies felt the need to throw their weight against anything that was within their power to control. Servants and gentlemen were the two most common areas of exploit. Caroline had never gotten on with those that did such things, but she had certainly met her fair share of such women.
Before she could put a halt to the thought, Caroline’s mind whispered that Lady Lydia was not deserving of the gentleman. She found herself biting the inside of her cheek to turn the thought away as well as chastise herself for having had it in the first place. She gave a sidelong glance to the man at her side. He was a good man, she decided, and yet, she could not bring herself to share her predicament with him. There was too much at stake; not only her own life, but Marilee’s.
“This is my favorite time of year,” the duke said in a soft voice beside her.
“Yes. It’s almost beautiful,” she agreed. Almost, she thought. It would be beautiful if she were looking at it as a free woman. It was slightly less so in her current state.
When he did not respond she looked up to find him staring down at her. His mouth was open as if he wanted to say something, perhaps tell her that she was beautiful, but he didn’t and she was grateful. Such conversations were inappropriate between a Lord and his servant and she realized just how very different the duke was from his brother. He stood with his hands firmly behind his back. He didn’t touch her.
Unbidden, she realized she wanted to be touched. Without a thought, she found herself reaching up to run the tips of her fingers over the scar at his cheek. She had been curious, that was all. She had never meant for the touch to be sensual, but when he closed his eyes to mask the pain behind his lids, her heart broke a little bit for him. She wondered if he were thinking about another lady and wishing that she would touch his hurt so freely.
“Are you going to ask me about it?” he whispered when her breath had caught and she had pulled away.
“No,” she replied with a trembling breath.
“Why not?” he murmured. She realized that he may have taken her withdrawal as the usual response that his scars garnered and offered him a tentative smile to prove otherwise.
“You’ll tell me if you wish it,” she sighed and returned her gaze to the serene snowfall. “And I’m certain that you already get asked the question far more often than you like as it is.”
“You aren’t wrong,” he said with a huff and a smile that broke with relief. “I want you to ask though. I’m not sure why.”
“Then tell me.” She said without looking toward him. She refused eye contact for two very important reasons. The first was that she wanted him to speak freely. She wanted him to tell his tale without the pressure of someone looking at the scars and imagining every detail of the horror. Secondly, she wanted to keep from him the knowledge that her heart had gone out to him. She would hate for him to misinterpret compassion for pity. She hated that he carried this burden; that others could not see the man beneath the scars. That she herself had once only seen a beast and now had come to regret it.
“Do you want the version I tell, or the whole story?”
“Both,” she breathed. She drew patterns with her fingers in the fog that had gathered on the window panes as much to keep him distracted as to keep her own hands from reaching out to him. In the back of her mind, she realized now that some maid, probably herself would have to wipe those smears away, but she did not care. The motion soothed her. She realized now that, besides occasional kind conversations with Lizzy, he was her only friend in the house. Yes, they were friends well and true.
“When I’m asked what happened and I’m,” he paused, “uncomfortable… I say that, years ago, when I was a second officer, our ship was boarded by pirates along the coast of France. We were outnumbered and fought fiercely until we were able to disengage and make our escape back to the safety of the rest of our fleet.” A tidy story.
