It was one of Nelly’s dresses she had packed assuming the girl would need a change of clothes when they found her.
Caroline touched the periwinkle fabric. It was well-suited for the warm weather, and the dining area was likely to be crowded and warm.
Nelly was taller than her, but she knew the dress would fit well enough.
She held it up in front of herself when Mrs. Ruffalo entered with a maid.
“Miss Holland, this is Mary. She will be acting as our lady’s maid while we’re here.”
Caroline quickly put the dress down.
“Oh, I hadn’t planned on using a maid.”
Mrs. Ruffalo’s eyes widened.
“Why ever not? How do you get dressed on your own?”
Caroline smiled. “Practice.”
“Well, she’s here now. Wolfolk insisted so you may as well make use of her.”
Caroline started to put the dress back in the trunk.
“That’s a very nice color. You should wear that down to dinner,” Mrs. Ruffalo said in a way Caroline had begun to recognize as less suggestion and more command.
The maid nodded. “It’s a very pretty color. Shall I help you put it on?”
Caroline was going to say no and have the dress packed into the trunk when the maid took it from her and hung it over a dressing screen.
“Miss?”
Caroline reluctantly stood behind the screen and allowed Mary to pull the dress over her fresh chemise.
“A dress like this needs a good petticoat,” Mary said, disappearing to grab a new one from her trunk. Caroline was going to refuse, but she hadn’t had a nice, new petticoat in some time. Mary produced a corded one that laced tighter than Caroline was used to. The petticoat pushed her bosom up and out and cut lower than she usually dressed. She was going to protest that she wasn’t comfortable when the maid pulled the thin blue dress over her head.
Her reflection stopped her short.
The dress fell gracefully over the cinched petticoat and gave her something she had almost never had: a discernible bosom.
“Lovely,” Mary said, smoothing out her skirt.
A blush crept up over Caroline’s neck and face.
She appeared transformed. It reminded her of the young woman she used to be. She did a slow half twirl as Mrs. Ruffalo and the maid smiled at her. It was such a simple thing. But it had been a long time since she felt pretty.
Alexander intended to eat dinner alone in his room.
He was already confused by his attraction to Caroline, annoyed and tired by the journey and, frankly, barely able to make small talk in the best of circumstances. And this was not the best of circumstances. But when he sat down to write a note to inform Mrs. Ruffalo and Caroline, his mind unhelpfully went blank.
He couldn’t think of an acceptable way to turn down dinner. He didn’t want to seem rude to Mrs. Ruffalo, or if he stopped to consider it, to Caroline either.
There was a knock on his bedchamber door.
He opened it and was irritated to see his footman.
“Mrs. Ruffalo and Miss Holland are waiting for you in the dining room,” he announced.
Blast, he had waited too long to draft his letter, and now it was time for dinner. He couldn’t send a note now. The only thing he could do would be to go downstairs for a short dinner, inform them he planned to leave the following morning, and then retire to bed early.
Alexander’s boots had just left the stairs and met the carpet in the front room when he saw his Mrs. Ruffalo and Caroline ahead of him in the dining hall. Rather, he saw the back of Caroline, who was seated and facing the other way. He also saw a well-dressed dandy in a fancy waistcoat hovering near them who he instantly disliked.
Yet another reason it was unwise to travel without a responsible male.
He wondered again about Caroline’s brother and how he seemed to have little say in his sister’s behavior.
At least he was here for now.
He would put an end to the gnat who was flitting around them now.
“Good evening.” Alexander bowed as a way of announcing both his arrival and his station to everyone in the room. Not that he needed to, his fine clothes and demeanor gave him away.
Caroline turned her head to him, and he saw she wore a very different dress than one he’d ever seen her in. It was light blue, a color he had never seen her wear, and it dipped down to reveal her assets. It was the dress of a young woman, but frankly, it suited her.
His face went warm as he made an effort not to look directly at her very creamy bosom. No wonder dandies were flocking around her. He would end that now.
“Mrs. Ruffalo, Miss Holland,” he nodded to both of them, saying nothing to the man who stood near them, stupidly idle.
The inn’s manager saw Alexander, and, knowing he was one of the higher class guests at the inn of late, made a beeline to greet him.
“My lord,” he said, bending in an overly deferential bow. “Would you prefer to dine at a private table with your guests?” He gestured to the women and the man Alexander still didn’t know.
He wanted to say yes and be comfortably buffered away from the loud, crowded room, but the dining room was full and everyone, including Caroline, was looking at him. Now was no time to put on airs.
“Not at all,” Alexander said, sitting next to Mrs. Ruffalo, which put him exactly opposite Caroline and her newly revealed bosom. He realized his mistake as soon as he sat down and strained to keep his eyes from wandering below her chin.
“Wolfolk, we were just introduced to Sir Thomas Gaines,” Mrs. Ruffalo said, nodding to the dandy.
Alexander gave the barest hint of a nod to acknowledge the man. The man’s face pinched unhappily.
“It was good meeting you, Mr. Gaines,” Caroline said. He finally took the hint and bowed and returned to his table.
Yes, run along. No doubt you’d still be here slobbering on the table at Miss Holland’s chest if I hadn’t come along when I did.
“Ladies, is the inn to your liking? More importantly, have you begun to recover from your earlier excitement, by which I mean being a crack shot and crime foiler, Mrs. Ruffalo?”
The lady’s face crinkled sweetly at his comment.
“Oh, my eyesight is not what it used to be,” she said.
“I daresay the crown may already be looking to bring you on as a sharpshooter,” Alexander said as several platefuls of steaming foods arrived at their table.
As the food was set, Alexander snuck a glimpse in Caroline’s direction. She did look lovely in the dress, he had to admit. The dress’s neckline highlighted her small waist, and, of course, other assets. The color also brought a pretty pink flush to her cheeks. She looked younger and much better in the finer clothes.
Caroline’s eyes caught his unexpectedly, and he coughed and pretended to turn to clear his throat.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said between forced coughs. “Something in my throat, I’m afraid.” He took a sip of wine.
Her eyes flicked from the bowl of steaming potatoes set on the table back to his suspiciously.
“You’re looking well,” Alexander said softly, hoping only she would hear.
Her eyes went to him again. She could look quite beguiling when she wanted.
“Thank you.” She looked wary of his compliments.
“I suppose that is the reason the ninny wit was fluttering around the table just now.”
Caroline grey eyes blinked. “What do you mean?”
Alexander sighed.
“You are wearing a nice dress. A new pretty face tends to bring out the roaches from the woodwork.”
She rolled her eyes and accepted a serving of meat pie from the server.
“Oh, honestly. Mr. Gaines had business with Mrs. Ruffalo’s husband years ago. Not every man we come across has impure motives.”
“I’m sure he did. More men do than you think,” Alexander said. “As a man, I should know.”
A smile quirked at her lips. “Surely not all of them.”
Alexander did not smile back. He could see she was making a joke, but he didn’t find it amusing.
“Perhaps more than you may believe.”
Caroline placed a warm bun on Mrs. Ruffalo’s plate and laughed.
“We will have to agree that the truth may fall somewhere in the middle,” she said.
“Why are you so reluctant to believe that men may be bad?” Alexander asked.
“I know men are flawed, but I’d like to think they are good most of the time.”
“You’re wrong,” he said and took a bite of pie.
Caroline swallowed her bite and smiled.
“Are you always so stubborn?”
He nodded.
“Tell me, was your every utterance as a child considered the gospel truth? I want to know how a man—even an earl—can have grown up being so sure of himself.”
Alexander took another bite of food. “Yes, my parents were quite wise.”
Caroline suppressed a smile and bit her lip.
“Is that so?”
“Yes, it is. But I mean no joke of this lesson. The less you trust other people, the easier your life may be.”
Caroline’s smile faded. She stared down at her plate for a moment.
“I have been acquainted with men’s flaws,” she said quietly. Her face grew clouded, and Alexander regretted his harsh words.
“My father gambled away our family’s small fortune, and bill collectors came and took our furniture out stick by stick after he died,” she said finally.
Alexander stopped his fork mid-bite.
“I see,” he said quietly. “Very rarely I am sometimes too forceful with my ideas,” he said, taking a long sip of port before adding, “This may be one of those times.”
Mrs. Ruffalo ate her meal, not seeming to listen to their dispute. Alexander assumed her hearing was poor.
Finally, she swallowed her bite and looked up at him.
“You both are too young to know anything about the nature of man. It’s not as good as you think.” She nodded to Caroline. “Nor as bad as you think either,” she said to Alexander.
The table next to them erupted with raucous laughter at a private joke.
“Mrs. Ruffalo, you are the consummate diplomat. Why are you not an ambassador to France?” Alexander said when the noise died down.
“Well, old age brings some gifts,” she said.
The server brought the table next to theirs a bowl of raisins, which they doused with brandy and lit aflame.
“Oh, they are playing Snapdragon,”Caroline said.
Alex and Mrs. Ruffalo both turned to watch the men try to snatch raisins out of the flaming brandy into their mouths without burning themselves. The raucous at the table grew louder, and the player who failed took a hearty draught of wine.
“That is a dangerous game,” Caroline said, smiling, “for many reasons. I believe my brother and his regiment used to play.”
Alexander watched her looking at their neighbors. Her eyes reflected the brandy flame and shone with pleasure, and again, she looked younger than when he first met her.
He took another long sip of port.
“What regiment was your brother with?” Alex asked when she turned back to the table.
Her smile faded. “One hundred twenty-third.”
“And where is he now?”
Her gaze fell to her cup, which she toyed with on the table.
“He is in Gloucestershire.”
Mrs. Ruffalo drew herself up.
“I believe I must retire now,” she gestured to the still full bottle of port. “Finish your wine. We’ll have naught to do tomorrow but sleep.”
Caroline sat up straighter. “I should retire as well.”
“Are you fatigued?” Alexander asked.
“Not particularly, but I need the rest.” She glanced around the room. “I don’t want to be the source of gossip.”
Alexander shrugged. “Let them talk. We’ll not see these people again. Help me finish my port.” He poured some into her empty glass. “I’ll see Mrs. Ruffalo to her bedchamber door and call the maid.”
He stood up, took the lady’s arm, and walked her up the stairs. He wondered if Caroline would still be there when he came back or if she’d change her mind and bolt.
“You’re still here?” Alexander said to her as he sat back down at the table.
“Did you think I wouldn’t be?”
“I wasn’t sure. Well-bred ladies do not often join me for drinks at public inns.”
She nodded. “True, I should not, but the room is still well attended. I do not feel in danger to sit and drink with you.”
“Nor should you,” he said. “Unless you wish to be told what to think. I’m told I am good at that.”
She smiled again, and he realized he liked it.
13
When he sat down again, neither of them made eye contact for a moment. The party of men next to them was still playing Snapdragon. A large man with plump, red hands plucked a raisin from the flaming bowl and popped it in his mouth to the cheers of the rest of the table.
“They are quite ardent,” Alexander said and raised his eyebrows.
Caroline watched them cheer and nodded. “It’s good to enjoy life when you can.”
He frowned and nodded curtly.
“Now that we are alone, I wanted to have a word with you.”
Caroline’s heart sped faster.
“I wanted to ask that you allow me to accompany you to Gretna Green. I know you don’t wish me to come, but I would like to ensure that you arrive and are able to safely return with Miss Featherton. That seems to be in the best interests of all involved.”
Now his eyes looked like dark coal.
“Why do you wish to come?”
He looked pained and sighed.
“I don’t doubt you and Mrs. Ruffalo can make it yourself—I’m not entirely sure why Mrs. Ruffalo hasn’t vanquished Napoleon yet—but it seems that we will have the best luck by cooperating. I feel as though Nelly’s welfare is partially my responsibility, as you said. I owe it to her.”
Nelly.
Of course.
“If you prefer, I can ride a mount outside the carriage so as not to inconvenience you and Mrs. Ruffalo.”
Caroline nodded wordlessly. She was tired. Tired of pressing onward. Her chances of finding Nelly would be vastly improved by his help. She knew she would be foolish to pretend otherwise.
“As long as Mrs. Ruffalo doesn’t object,” she said.
Alexander nodded, then added, “I’m afraid if she does, she may shoot me.”
“I cannot guarantee that will not happen anyway,” Caroline said. “We’ll have to ask her in the morning.”
Alexander’s lips curved in a half smile, which Caroline found annoyingly charming.
But he wanted to help find Nelly himself.
The large man next to him gestured to his friends, and inadvertently swatted Alexander’s back.
“Sorry,” he said, glancing back. He looked back again. “My lord,” he corrected himself.
Alexander would have every right to call him out for his impertinence, but he simply waved it away.
The large man turned again to Alexander.
“My apologies. Would you care to battle the Snapdragon, my lord?” he asked, moving the flaming bowl closer to them.
Alexander looked like he was going to refuse, but his face broke into an impish smile.
He gestured to Caroline.
She had played Snapdragon with friends growing up. She knew the raisins in the blue flame would be hottest.
She saw the table of men watching her.
Without even thinking, she grabbed a smoldering raisin from the bowl and popped it into her mouth.
The entire table of men cheered.
Caroline smiled and felt the heat of blush rise her neck.
Even Alexander smiled widely at her and applauded.
; One of the men clapped Alexander’s back heartily and filled his glass with more wine.
“A fine woman, my lord,” he called.
“Yes, she is,” he nodded cheerfully and played along.
Another man filled her glass with port and clinked it against hers, forcing her to take a thick sip. She coughed as the liquid burned down her throat.
“You should not let a woman like that get away,” another man said to Alexander. She blushed again but noticed even though the accomplishment was hers, Alexander was the one getting congratulated.
“You are absolutely correct,” Alexander said, joining the man in throwing back his glass. Finally, when his cup was empty, and the other men’s attention returned to their game, Alexander sat down at the table and smiled his charming half smile at her.
“Have you eaten enough pickled raisins and shown up enough men?” he asked.
She nodded and pulled her shawl around her shoulders. Suddenly, she felt underdressed and exposed.
Caroline’s head felt light and pleasant, and she knew she needed to retire soon or, well, she couldn’t guarantee there wouldn’t be more kissing.
Her eyes went to his full lips as he smiled across the table at her.
Somewhere in her brain, a piece of logic protested. You cannot kiss him again. Nor should you let him kiss you.
What she needed to do was go to bed before anyone had a chance to think about kissing. Although she noted she already was.
“I believe I should retire before my reputation is in complete tatters.” Caroline stood up and was surprised to find herself swaying a bit. How funny. A giddiness burbled up inside her chest.
Alexander smiled at her, grabbing hold of her hand to steady her.
“Well, then, I would be remiss if I didn’t escort you to your room.”
He was so tall. She had to crane her neck to look up at him. It seemed very funny to her.
“You are very tall,” she said.
He was looking at her intently.
“I am tall, but perhaps the issue is that you, my dear, are too short.”
Lord to Love Again: A Sweet and Clean Regency Romance Page 12
