Julie Garwood Read online

  “Did I tell you that I heard that Bradford never attends any of the balls? I believe the only reason he was there tonight was because he knew that you would attend. Don’t shake your head at me,” Charity scolded. “I told you he would pursue you. Earlier you said that you would trust my instincts, remember? Now you must eat humble pie and admit that you are attracted to him. For heaven’s sake, Caroline, I found you kissing him on the balcony. Besides, I saw how you watched him when you didn’t think anyone was looking.”

  “Was I that obvious?” Caroline asked, mortified.

  “Only to me because I know you so well,” Charity replied.

  “I am attracted to him,” Caroline admitted. “But he makes me so nervous.”

  Charity smiled and patted Caroline’s hand in a motherly fashion.

  “Charity, do you know that since I have arrived in England, my every conviction has been turned inside out? I feel like I am hanging upside down. I really believed that I would return to Boston—you remember how I boasted that I would—and now I meekly accept that I will live here. And when I met Bradford, I thought him arrogant and overbearing and now admit that I actually like the man! What is the matter with me?”

  “I believe, Sister dear, that you are learning to bend. That is all. You never were one to compromise. I think it’s part of becoming a woman.”

  Caroline gave her an exasperated look and Charity laughed. “I know I sound terribly wise but I believe that you are falling in love, Lynnie. I really do. Don’t look so horrified. It isn’t the end of the world.”

  “That’s debatable,” Caroline announced. She stood up and stretched. “Sleep well, Charity.”

  It was after three o’clock in the morning before Caroline finally settled in her own bed. Her mind was filled with questions, all concerning Bradford. Why was it such a miracle that he smiled? She must remember to ask him about that. And then she fell asleep, a smile on her face.

  Caroline awoke at the crack of dawn, her usual time, and was disgusted with herself. She had barely had four hours’ sleep and the circles under her eyes indicated as much.

  She dressed in a beige walking dress with a scooped neck. Then she tied her hair behind her head and went downstairs in search of a hot cup of tea.

  The dining room was empty and not a spot of tea to be found anywhere. Caroline followed the long hallway and finally located the kitchen. A woman Caroline assumed to be the cook sat in a chair next to the hearth.

  Caroline announced herself and then looked around the large room. She was appalled by the dust and dirt clinging to the walls and layering the floor and found herself getting angry over the filth.

  “My name’s Marie,” the cook told her. “My first week here. I can see you’re frowning over the mess but I ain’t had time to clean it yet.” She sounded belligerent.

  Caroline gave her a sharp look and the cook’s attitude slowly changed.

  “You might as well know my problem right off. I’ve ruined the meat again.” Caroline couldn’t detect any animosity in the woman’s voice now and she was upset over the matter.

  “This place is filthy,” Caroline returned.

  “The bread’s not fit to chew,” the cook answered. “I’ll be let go, and what am I to do then?” She started crying, using the edge of her dirty apron to wipe at her eyes, and Caroline wasn’t sure how to react. She was rather pathetic.

  “Weren’t your duties explained to you before you accepted the position?” Caroline asked.

  Her question seemed to cause additional distress, and the cook dissolved into loud sobs.

  “Calm yourself!” Caroline’s voice had a sharp edge to it, and the cook immediately responded by taking several gasps.

  “I lied and Toby helped me with the printing of my references,” she admitted. “’Twas dishonest to be sure, miss, but I was desperate for work and it was all I could think of to do. Toby’s earnings aren’t enough to see us through, you see, and I’ve got to make the extra shillings to feed little Kirby.”

  “Who are Toby and Kirby?” Caroline asked. Her voice was softer now, laced with concern. Marie seemed an honest sort, owning up to her deceit, and Caroline felt sorry for her.

  “My man and my boy,” Marie answered. “I cook for them and they barely make a complaint and I did think I could please the earl,” she continued. “Now he’ll let me go and I don’t know what will happen!”

  Caroline took a moment to study Marie. She looked sturdy, though she was on the thin side, but Caroline decided that was because she probably couldn’t eat anything she prepared.

  “You’ll be telling your father, miss?” Marie asked as she twisted her apron around her fingers.

  “Perhaps we can come to some sort of agreement,” Caroline replied. “How much would you like to keep this position?”

  “I’ll do anything, miss, anything,” Marie said in a rush. From the eager expression in her eyes, Caroline realized that the woman wasn’t much older than she was. Her skin was still unwrinkled. Only her eyes looked old, old and tired.

  “You’ve met my friend Benjamin, haven’t you?” she asked.

  Marie nodded. “I was told that he saw to your safety,” Marie answered.

  Obviously Benjamin or her father had spoken of the relationship, and Caroline nodded. “Yes, that’s true,” she said. “But he’s also quite efficient in the kitchen. I’ll ask him to prepare the meals and you’ll watch and learn.”

  Marie nodded again and promised to do whatever Benjamin wanted.

  Benjamin smiled when Caroline explained the situation to him, his only acknowledgment that he was pleased to help out. Caroline would never have suggested that he take over the duties on a temporary basis if she hadn’t known how much pleasure he found in creating special dishes.

  By the time Marie and Benjamin had staked out their territory in the kitchen, the situation was well in hand. Marie was looking very humble and grateful, and Benjamin pretended that she wasn’t even there. Caroline left the pair and took a fresh cup of tea into the dining room to wait for her father.

  The Earl of Braxton entered the dining room an hour later. Caroline sat with him while he ate what he called the most wonderful breakfast in his life. Then they went through the stack of notes that had arrived that morning. Caroline was swamped with flowers and pleas for an immediate audience.

  “Did I mention that the Duke of Bradford will be calling on you at two this afternoon?” her father asked.

  “Two o’clock!” Caroline gasped. She jumped up, patting her hair almost absentmindedly. “That is less than two hours away! I must change my gown at once.”

  Her father nodded and called after her, “Tonight we attend a dinner party given by Viscount Claymere and his family.”

  Caroline paused in the doorway. “Isn’t Claymere the awkward gentleman I met last night?”

  When her father nodded, Caroline rolled her eyes heavenward. “Then I mustn’t wear the ivory gown tonight. He’s sure to spill something on it. Too bad black isn’t fashionable,” she called over her shoulder.

  Bradford was fifteen minutes late. Caroline was pacing the confines of the main receiving area. She heard Deighton greet him as “your Grace,” and then the doors were opened and he was standing there.

  He looked extremely fit and was dressed in riding apparel. The buckskin breeches were as snug as the last time she had seen him in them, and she found herself smiling over the handsome figure he cut. His coat was the color of deep chocolate, making his neckcloth look bright white. His Hessians were polished to perfection and Caroline imagined that if she leaned down, she would see her face in the shine.

  He had obviously taken care with his dress, but then so had she, Caroline admitted. She wore a lavender gown with cap sleeves. The neckline was square and of a deeper blue color. Mary Margaret had curled her hair into a cluster at the back of her neck, with small curls framing the sides of her face.

  Caroline realized that she was staring at Bradford and that he was staring at her. She li
fted the hem of her skirt, displaying blue leather shoes, and gave a formal curtsy. “You are late, milord. What kept you?”

  Her bluntness brought a smile. “And you are early. Don’t you know that a lady must keep her suitor waiting at least twenty minutes so that she will not give the appearance of being overly eager?”

  “And are you my suitor?” Caroline asked as she walked toward him.

  Bradford saw that her eyes fairly sparkled with mischief and found himself nodding. “And are you overly eager?” he returned.

  “But of course,” Caroline answered. “I have learned that you are wealthy and respected so I am naturally eager. Isn’t that what you believe?” She laughed at his expression, thinking he looked terribly uncomfortable.

  “I haven’t even greeted you properly and you bait me,” Bradford said with a heavy sigh.

  “But we have just greeted each other,” Caroline contradicted. She began to lose her smile and her flirtatious mood when the Duke of Bradford started to advance upon her at an alarming pace. Caroline backed up and would have avoided his grasp had it not been for the settee blocking her retreat.

  Bradford took hold of Caroline by the shoulders and slowly pulled her to him. His intent was most clear, and Caroline frantically tried to push him away as she looked beyond his shoulder. The doors were wide open and her father could walk in at any moment. She knew that Deighton had gone to tell him that Bradford had arrived. It certainly wouldn’t do to have him find her in such a compromising position.

  “My father—” Caroline never finished her thought. Bradford claimed her mouth in a warm, intoxicating kiss that immediately melted her good intentions. She responded almost at once, cupping the sides of his face with her hands. The kiss drained any thought of rebellion and when Bradford pulled away, Caroline was disappointed. Her look must have told him so because he started to laugh.

  “Why didn’t you kiss me the way you did last night?” Caroline asked. She realized she was still touching his face and dropped her hands.

  “Because once I kiss you that way,” he said, mimicking her choice of words with a tender grin, “I don’t want to stop. I know my limits,” he continued.

  “Are you suggesting that I could make you lose your control?” Caroline asked.

  Bradford read the amusement lurking in her violet gaze and thought again what an innocent she was. She thought to tease him and didn’t have a clue that what she said was true. She could make him lose control.

  “Since you do not answer me, I can only conclude that I could!” Caroline laughed, clasping her hands together, and strolled at a sassy pace to one of the wingback chairs flanking the marble fireplace. “That makes me very powerful, milord, doesn’t it? And I am only half your size.”

  Bradford sat down in the other wingback chair and stretched his long, muscular legs in front of him. One boot crossed over the other in a relaxed position as he considered how to answer Caroline. He regarded her for a full minute and Caroline thought he looked almost brooding.

  “All right,” Caroline said with a sigh. “You aren’t in the mood for teasing and besides, I have something important to ask of you before my father arrives. I need a small favor, Bradford, and if you will only agree, I will forever be in your debt.” Caroline folded her hands in her lap and waited for Bradford’s reply.

  “Forever?” Bradford asked, one eyebrow raised. “That is a long time to be in another’s debt.”

  “I exaggerated,” Caroline admitted. “I would like you to escort Charity and me to Paul Bleachley’s home and help us gain admittance.”

  Bradford shook his head, sorry that he had to deny her. “Paul would never agree.”

  “No, you do not understand,” Caroline argued. She stood up and began to pace. “In fact, it is quite imperative that Paul not know we are coming. Of course he would say no! My plan is to take him by surprise.” She stopped in front of Bradford and smiled. “It’s really very simple,” she said. When Bradford frowned anew, Caroline found herself growing frustrated. Her father would be there any minute and she wanted to get the arrangements completed before. She put her hands on her hips. “My plan,” she explained. “I am only thinking of my cousin … and Paul, too. I am doing what is best for both of them.”

  That statement got a reaction. Bradford actually started laughing. “And only you know what is best for them?” he asked when he had gained control of himself.

  “You are always laughing at me,” Caroline muttered, despair sounding in her voice. She heard her father coming down the steps and rushed, “Please agree. You must trust me, Bradford. I really do know what I’m doing. It would be a considerate thing to do!”

  Caroline realized that she sounded like she was begging. Her back straightened and she gave Bradford what she hoped was a firm look. “I won’t be swayed, only delayed,” she whispered. Those were Bradford’s very words to her the night before, though the subject was of a different nature.

  The earl entered the receiving room and smiled. Bradford was laughing and Caroline looked quite pleased with herself.

  The next hour was spent in casual conversation. Caroline’s father had no intention of leaving before Bradford, and Caroline couldn’t think of a way to get the duke alone.

  Both father and daughter walked with Bradford to the entryway. “I’ll look forward to receiving a note from you,” Caroline said as a hint. “No later than tomorrow morning,” she added, “or I will be forced to make other arrangements.”

  “Are you going to Claymere’s bash tonight?” the earl asked Bradford. “It should prove an interesting evening. Little Clarissa is to play the spinet and her sister is going to sing.”

  Bradford couldn’t think of anything more amusing. “I’m going to wear Cook’s apron so that the viscount won’t ruin my gown,” Caroline interjected. Her father shot her a look that told her the remark was not the thing, and Caroline lowered her eyes in embarrassment. She really must learn to keep her mouth shut, she thought. Heavens, was she becoming a chatterbox like Charity, telling her every thought?

  Bradford appreciated her jest. “Both Milford and I will be in attendance,” he promised even as he wondered how he would twist an invitation out of Claymere. He knew the viscount wanted to court Caroline. He couldn’t allow it, of course. No one was going to have Caroline Richmond but Jered Marcus Benton.

  “Does every party begin past bedtime?” Caroline asked her father. She yawned. The rocking motion of the enclosed carriage lulled her into a sleepy state.

  “You’re an early riser,” Charity remarked. “I slept until noon and feel wonderful,” she added. “Caroline, do pinch your cheeks again. You look pale.”

  Caroline complied, yawning once again.

  “I believe you will both enjoy yourselves tonight,” the earl announced. “The Claymeres are a fine family. Did I tell you that the viscount’s little sisters are going to perform for us?”

  Caroline nodded. She closed her eyes for the rest of the journey and listened to the conversation that flowed between her father and her cousin. Charity was in a fine pitch, since Bradford’s note had arrived earlier in the evening. The note was scrawled in a bold style and was to the point. He wrote that he would arrive at ten in the morning and would escort Charity and Caroline to Bleachley’s. His last line asked, “Is that considerate enough for you?”

  Once Caroline had received Bradford’s help, she explained the situation to her father. He agreed to allow her to go, but added that she was to be back by one o’clock so that they could go to her uncle’s home for afternoon tea.

  Bradford hadn’t arrived before them, and Caroline was disappointed. The viscount kept her busy and wide awake. He stepped on her toes more than once and his apologies were more painful than the injury. He simply didn’t know when to stop, and his kindness drove Caroline to distraction.

  Bradford arrived just minutes before the recital began. Caroline was seated in the back row, with Charity on one side and her father on the other. It wasn’t an accidental arrang
ement. Caroline had forced both of them down beside her so that the viscount would have to sit elsewhere.

  Little Clarissa turned out to be a good fifty pounds overweight. She took a long while getting ready and then began to play, again and again, until Caroline lost count of the number of beginnings. The poor girl was trying her best but that proved only adequate. Caroline closed her eyes and tried to listen. And then she drifted off to sleep.

  Bradford leaned against the far wall, trying not to let his face mirror his thoughts. He vowed that if that girl began just one more time, he would leap across the audience, grab Caroline, and make for the door.

  Milford entered the room, circled the group, and came to stand beside his friend. “What has you grinning?” he asked his friend in a low voice so as not to disturb the Claymere chit.

  “The fact that I am here, suffering this mockery of Mozart so that I can be close to Caroline,” Bradford admitted.

  “And where is she?” Milford asked, glancing around the room.

  Bradford looked to the back row and then started to laugh. Several people glanced over at him and he nodded a greeting, trying all the while to regain his bored look. “She’s in the middle of the back row, sleeping.”

  “So she is,” Milford whispered with a chuckle. “Smart girl,” he remarked.

  Caroline slept through little Clarissa’s recital. There was a brief flurry, a slight intermission, while Clarissa waited for her sister to prepare her music.

  The Earl of Braxton took the opportunity to change seats, for he was eager to hear Catherine Claymere. The viscount had promised that Catherine was quite wonderful and was gifted with a clear sopranic voice.

  When Charity followed her uncle, both Bradford and Milford took their chairs. Bradford sat on Caroline’s right and Milford flanked her left side. “Do we nudge her awake?” Milford lazily inquired.

  “Only if she begins to snore,” Bradford replied. “God, she’s beautiful when she sleeps,” he said.

  “Are you still getting her out of your blood?” Milford asked with lazy interest.

  Bradford didn’t answer. He had thought, in the beginning, to take what he wanted and then give her up to another. That plan was displeasing now. He was saved from answering when Clarissa launched into the opening for her sister.