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“According to custom,” the duke nodded, clearly finding no fault with her reply and yet, it seemed, still determined to needle her father. “Although I doubt with anything but relief. A daughter,” he blew out a sharp puff of air. “Had Anne birthed a son, however…” He let the words and their implication hang in the air.
“I did everything…” her father began to spit out, but Caroline took one more half step forward and intersected the men.
“Allow me to assure you otherwise, Your Grace.” She looked up at her father with an honest smile this time, recalling her childhood. There was a bitter pang at the loss of what they had once shared, but she squelched it before it could bear witness on her face. “He was a most devoted father and husband,” she said pointedly, “although I was of the lesser sex and had no heir.” Her cheery tone made it impossible for the duke to make another dig before she continued.
She offered a smile and redirected the conversation by asking the duke about the byway and how he had come to be such a welcomed guest in their quiet home. He may have a long-standing issue to take with her father, but habit and breeding had him donning his etiquette cap when it came to conversing with a lady. It was with a breath of relief that the tension in the room eased, and the gentlemen began talking of more practical things.
It was no wonder they had been near fisticuffs before she had come into the room, she thought. If this were the brother of the nearly ruined Lady Anne, and he somehow blamed the Baron for the woman’s death all those years ago, then it was no wonder at all. Although her father had done his duty through marriage, it was always the lady’s honor that bears the shame. A gentleman’s indiscretions are easily overlooked. A man might bow to a lustful moment, but a woman must not. Not ever. Redemption, Caroline had learned, was rarely for the female. No, the sins of the female lived in infamy, much like that first sin of Eve.
She sat with her father and his guest for an hour before her father asked, “Did you not say you had better finish your painting today before the last of the blossoms fall and you lose your scene?” Caroline blinked at him.
“Off you go,” her father said.
Caroline’s mouth popped open, but she used the movement to reply.
“I did,” she lied with an assured nod. She hated painting. She had never had any skill for painting or drawing. She preferred the out of doors, and riding her beautiful mare, Bella. Her major feminine accomplishments lay firmly in the musical arts of pianoforte and harpsichord. She could even sing passably. More than passably if she were to be honest. Yet, her father could not have asked her to practice those talents without the odd chance of the duke asking for an impromptu concert. It was clear she was meant to be shooed away. She would speak to Father about the reason at a later time. Now, she stood to leave and bid farewell to the gentlemen.
As Caroline made her way up the stairs to do heavens only knew what, for the next several hours under the illusion of artistic enrapture, she could not help but wonder what in the devil was going on in her father’s mind. She certainly had no desire to spend an excessive amount of time with the duke, but he was their guest. As Lady of the house, she ought to be making an effort to at least keep him from coming to blows with the Baron. Had she not already proven that she could maneuver the conversation with ease? Furthermore, she was already cooped up in the Manor due to the torrents of rain that still came down out of doors, she did not need to be further relegated to a silent and hidden afternoon. There was her book, but she had already read it twice, and she did not appreciate being relegated to the sidelines.
She stomped the last two steps, just for good measure. She was far enough away that the gentlemen would not have heard, but Marilee certainly would. True to form, the maid’s head popped out into the hall from Caroline’s dressing room, where she had been doing the mending.
“Don’t you dare scuff those slippers,” Marilee hissed. Then her face shifted into a conspiratorial grin. She looked one way down the hall and then the other. “Well, come on.” She swung the door open for Caroline to join her within. “Tell me everything.”
CHAPTER3
Caroline was summoned to her father’s study thirty minutes prior to the time that she would have usually come down to join the gentlemen in the dining hall. She had expected to find the baron and his guest sharing brandy before the evening meal, but was surprised to find her father alone, pacing before the wide window that overlooked the lawn.
“Father?” She asked as she struck her knuckles along the frame of the doorway to announce her presence.
“Come,” he said with a sense of urgency that immediately piqued her interest. “Close the door behind you.” She did as he instructed and then crossed the room to join him at the window. In silence, she waited for an explanation. “Bennington won’t be long dressing for dinner, so we haven’t much time,” her father muttered. Then, with piercing grey eyes, the only feature she had inherited from him, he turned to her. “You must not catch his attention, do you understand?”
Her brows furrowed. She did not. She certainly had given no indication that she wanted the duke’s attention, had merely fulfilled her expected proprieties. Good heavens, he was more than twice her age! Even though he was a duke, she had no intention of marrying an old man. She had no intention of marrying at all.
Her father sighed and ran a hand down his long face. “He has already taken far too much interest in your beauty,” the Baron explained with a grimace. She knew he must be thinking of her mother. “You must be careful. Your unwillingness to bend in fear of him will only drive him further. He is cunning and, given the opportunity, will view that as a challenge.” Her father fixed her with a serious stare. “He is…” Father dithered a bit, which was unlike him. He usually said what he meant, and Caroline got much of her brash attitude from him.
“Is what?” Caroline persisted.
Father sucked in a breath. “Perhaps, he is a bit of a rake.”
“At his age?” Miss Caroline challenged, thinking that such passions cooled with age.
“His age is of no consequence. Caroline, take care that you do not catch his eye. Best if he were to forget you are even here. As difficult as it is, be nondescript. Forgettable.”
“I shall keep my tongue,” she promised, but this did not seem to satisfy. It seemed that what she had thought was helpful to her father’s plight this afternoon had been cause for concern. Perhaps he had not wished to mend bridges, she realized. Perhaps he had meant to bore the duke with brevity so that he would wish nothing more than to be on his way. She shivered at the thought that the gentleman would ever attempt to win her affections. She could think of no world where she would find him appealing. Some ladies might stoop so low as to make a play for his title, but not Caroline. Besides, from their conversation this afternoon she was well aware that the duke had been a widower for nigh on two decades. If he had not taken a wife by now, then certainly even she did not possess enough charm to turn his head, even if she had desired it. Which she did not. Title or no, if Caroline wanted to marry, she would not choose a man nearer to her father’s age than her own.
“That is not enough,” Her father continued. He went on to explain that she could neither be too demure, nor too disinterested. She could not be overly friendly, nor cross. She ought not to show her accomplishments or offer any shared interests.
“What am I to be, then?” she laughed. Certainly, her father was overreacting. Cunning though the duke may be, he had no reason to even look twice at her. Not to mention that it was clear that a rift existed between the two men. Caroline could not see how the duke would not simply bide his time, waiting for the road to be open and then hasten his retreat as soon as the byway was cleared.
“You are to be nothing,” Father explained. “Make yourself scarce, dull, not worth a second thought. And wear something loose that does not cling to your figure. He must not see you.”
Surely Father was over reacting. “I can assure you that there is no reason to think that His Grace would ever--”
Father cut her off. “He would,” Father whispered. “He would if only to…”
She put her hand upon his arm, confusion twisting her features. For a father who had hardly deigned to look at her these past years, she could not understand the sudden concern that wracked his features. Even if the duke attempted to woo her, she would simply turn him away. The matter was as straightforward as that. As for an indiscretion, she would not even consider it. She would never be so silly as to be used as a method of revenge upon her father.
She smiled and put her hand on her father’s forearm. “We may not always be close, Papa, but you are my father, and I love you.”
