by Rose Pearson
Caroline shook her head. “Nor can I, although I am glad for the quiet.” She gestured to her book. “The library here is quite wonderful.”
Peter grinned. “Of course, you would find the library.” He laughed again, getting up to pull the bell pull. “So, what do you think of the Marquess?” His expression grew serious as he sat back down. “I know there were a few awkward conversations last evening, Caro, but you did very well.”
“Lord Brandeis didn’t seem to think so,” Caroline replied, with a wry smile. “He appeared at my door last night, demanding that I do much better the next time.”
A dark frown appeared on Peter’s brow. “Is that so? I’ll be having words with him then, Caro. He can’t be doing that sort of thing. It could ruin you!”
Flushing, Caroline nodded. “I know. I sent him away, but I think it was the liquor that made him come to the door in the first place. I shouldn’t have opened it, of course, but he was very insistent and I was afraid someone would hear him.”
Peter sighed heavily, shaking his head. “I knew he’d react badly to his father speaking like that, but I didn’t think Brandeis would come after you. I thought you did remarkably well.” He raised one eyebrow. “Although you can see why Brandeis is so het up about it all. That father of his never lets up.”
Now it was Caroline’s turn to frown. “But I didn’t find anything wrong with what was said, Peter, did you?”
There was a short pause. “There’s more to Brandeis than you think, Caro. He’s spent years hearing his father do nothing more than praise Josiah – the older brother and heir – only to point out Brandeis’ failings over and over again. I don’t think that, even if Brandeis did everything his father asked of him, he’d ever reach the same heights as Josiah. That does something to a man, Caro.”
Her heart wrenched. “How do you know that kind of thing, Peter? I didn’t think Lord Brandeis would ever talk to you about things like that.”
Peter laughed dryly. “Liquor always loosens a man’s tongue, Caro,” he said, simply. “I don’t think Brandeis knows everything that he’s said to me. Trust me, though. Brandeis doesn’t show his hurt, but it’s there all right.”
The maid came in then, a tea tray in her hands, leaving Caroline to think about what her brother had said. She was confused, torn between wanting to feel compassion for Lord Brandeis and feeling the anger and upset over what he’d said to her last night.
“I think the Marquess is a fine man,” she muttered to herself, reaching to pour the tea.
“First impressions can often be wrong,” Peter replied, quietly. “Just take a few more days and watch, Caro. Watch how the Marquess speaks to Lord Weston and compare it with how he speaks to Lord Brandeis. That should tell you everything you need to know.”
Sighing inwardly, Caroline shrugged her shoulders. “Very well,” she replied, hesitantly. “I shall not rail at him as much as I had initially intended.”
Peter managed a small smile, despite his look of frustration at Lord Brandeis’ behavior. “Thank you, Caro. I know Lord Brandeis will appreciate it, even if he does not show it.”
“He had better,” Caroline replied with feeling, just as the library door opened to reveal Lord Brandeis himself.
Her breath caught, although why it should do so she had very little idea. Lord Brandeis did not look at her or at Peter but kept his gaze fixed on the fire burning in the hearth as he strode towards them. The only suggestion of his true state was shown in the slight haggardness of his expression, the red-rimmed eyes and the shadowy smudges beneath them. Caroline recalled how he had shaken one finger at her last evening and felt herself begin to bubble with anger, only to see Peter’s warning expression. Her shoulders slumped as Lord Brandeis cleared his throat, forcing her to give him her full attention.
“Lady Winter, I believe I owe you something of an apology.”
His voice was low and rasping, sending a thrill up Caroline’s spine.
“Yes, Lord Brandeis, I believe you do,” she said firmly, just as Peter got up from his chair and wandered to the opposite end of the room, giving them as much privacy as he could. “I may be from humble roots, my lord, but I am not foolish.” She arched one eyebrow at him pointedly and, much to her surprise, he flushed to the roots of his hair.
“Liquor has something of an unwelcome effect on me,” he said, slowly. “I should not have appeared at your bedchamber door. I was not myself.”
She sighed, remembering what Peter had only just said about him. “My lord, may I suggest, therefore, that you enjoy a little less brandy if you wish for our charade to continue?”
Swallowing hard, Lord Brandeis looked away for a moment, before catching her eye again. “I find it easier to manage, with a little brandy running through my veins.”
Unable to prevent herself, Caroline spoke one of the questions that immediately began to pound through her mind. “Easier to manage, Lord Brandeis? Is it so terrible being here with your father?”
His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed and his whole frame grew a little more rigid. Caroline knew then that there was, just as Peter had said, a great deal more to this man than he wished to let her – or anyone – see.
“Yes, Lady Winter,” he replied, hoarsely. “Yes, it is truly awful to be a part of this household, even for a short time. I thought that your company would ease my suffering, that your presence would help me to hold my tongue and keep my composure.” His whole body seemed to slump as he shrugged. “Mayhap I have been wrong on this account.”
An unwilling sense of compassion rose in her and, to her surprise, Caroline found herself rising to her feet, stepping a little closer to Lord Brandeis who appeared just as astonished as she at her action.
“Lord Brandeis,” she said softly, looking into his eyes and seeing the misery that he was trying so hard to hide. “I meant everything that I said to you last evening. I will do my best to defend you and to tell your family what I know of you. But I will not outright lie to them and pretend that you are truly a changed man.” He looked away, but she caught his hand in her own, forcing his eyes back to hers. “I will speak to them of what I have experienced, of what I hope will occur with you. I will tell them that you have treated me with respect and dignity, that you have shown me compassion and kindness. I will not state that you have shown me such things for your own good, of course, for that would bring the entire façade to the ground, but I will do all I can to speak well of you, my lord. I confess I was extremely nervous last evening and a little frustrated at you for bringing me into the conversation, but you can be assured that I am with you in this.”
For a few moments, Lord Brandeis did nothing but look into her eyes. Caroline, ignoring the quickening of her heart, looked back at him steadily, praying that he would finally understand.
“You believe that I am kind to you for my own reasons?” he asked, eventually, his eyes a little wider. “Am I that much of a monster?”
She gave him a sad smile, dropping his hand. “When you spoke to me in the carriage, Lord Brandeis, was it not to calm my nerves so that I might present a proper picture to your family?” Sitting down again, she let out a long breath, surprised to realize just how much such an explanation hurt her. “Were you not considerate of my anxiety, in the hope that you would be able to urge me to present a strong, calm demeanor?” She let out a harsh laugh, no longer able to keep his gaze. “I thought you truly gentleman-like for a time, but I realize now just how mistaken I was in considering that. You required me to be calm and collected so that I would not make a mistake in my first meeting with your family, and so you did all you could to ensure that would happen.” One shoulder lifted in a half shrug, her voice becoming flat and emotionless. “Well, you may congratulate yourself, my lord, on a job well done.”
Lord Brandeis did not say another word but stared at her as though she were a woman possessed. His face registered astonishment, as if he had only just realized the truth of her words as she had spoken them but, within a minute or two, he
had turned from her and strode from the room, leaving her sitting alone. Peter, of course, hurried back over at once, demanding to know what had occurred, but Caroline had simply waved his questions away and now poured herself more tea, battling against her own frustrations and upset.
Lord Brandeis really was the most infuriating man!
10
Caroline did not see Lord Brandeis until much later that afternoon when the Marquess had organized a short period of music, followed by cards and a few other games. This would be followed by an hour or so to prepare for dinner, by which time Caroline was sure she would be famished.
“Lady Winter, might you be prevailed upon to play us something?”
Caroline jerked in her seat, her heart suddenly hammering furiously in her chest as she looked up at Lady Fernley, who was smiling at her gently.
“Oh, my lady,” she stammered, trying desperately to find an excuse. “I am afraid that I must turn down your kind offer.”
Lady Fernley’s face fell. “Oh?”
Keeping her smile fixed, Caroline ignored the rest of the guests listening ears, choosing to, once more, go with the truth.
“You see, my lady, I confess that I never had much skill when it came to the pianoforte. I believe my mother quite despaired of me! I should not be inclined to play for you now, for it would be quite torturous and I believe you should all think the worse of me for forcing you to endure such a thing.”
Much to her relief, Lord Fernley laughed aloud at this, which brought a smile to Lady Fernley’s features.
“I quite understand,” Lady Fernley smiled, shaking her head as her husband continued to chuckle. “And that is very honest of you, I must say. Mayhap Miss Gosford, you would be so kind as to play a little more?”
Letting out a quiet breath of relief, Caroline waited as Miss Gosford – who appeared to be quite accomplished in most of the expected talents – sat down again and began to play, although this time she began to sing also. Caroline was rapt with attention, her eyes and ears fixed on the music as it filled the room. She could lose herself in this, thinking to herself quietly that she had never experienced anything quite so wonderful.
“That was truly delightful,” Lord Fernley exclaimed, as the music came to a close. “Now, where is Weston?” His eyes searched the room for his eldest son, finally coming to land on him where he sat in the corner of the room. “Ah, there you are. Do go and join your bride to be, will you? You have an excellent voice of your own and it has been some time since I have heard the two of you sing together.”
Lord Weston did not smile but did as his father asked regardless. There was no trace of happiness or delight on his face as he took his place beside his bride, who glanced up at him for a moment with worry in her expression.
Lord Fernley did not appear to notice, clapping his hands in delight. “Wonderful! Now, a good two or three pieces, I think, so that we may all enjoy your performance.”
Caroline noted how Miss Gosford nodded meekly at this, although Lord Weston did not move at all. He simply stared straight ahead, his face expressionless as Miss Gosford began to pull out some music that she clearly knew would be suitable. This was not the first time they had performed together, although Caroline would swear that Lord Weston did not enjoy it in the least.
“Might you care for a walk, Lady Winter?”
Twisting her head, Caroline saw Lord Brandeis standing just behind her left shoulder, his eyes fixed on his brother as he leaned down to speak to her again.
“Perhaps a stroll to the library and back? It is very cold outside, else I should offer to walk with you there.”
She did not know what to say, feeling awkward at the thought of leaving the room when Lord Weston and Miss Gosford were in the middle of a song.
“They will not notice, I assure you.”
Just as he said this, Caroline caught Lady Fernley’s eye. A slight frown had appeared between the lady’s brows and she glared at Lord Brandeis, her lips thin. Clearly, she was not best pleased at Lord Brandeis behavior.
“I do not wish to be rude, Lord Brandeis,” Caroline whispered, an uncomfortable tension rising between them. “Please, sit by me for a time.”
He let out a harsh breath, his stance growing rigid.
“You are not afraid of what they think, are you, Lady Winter?”
She made to retort but caught herself, pressing her lips firmly together for a moment. The first piece came to a close and she clapped politely, turning her head just a little to look into Lord Brandeis’s eyes.
“My lord, sit down,” she said firmly, not accepting anything but obedience from him. “I will walk with you later but for the time being, we must behave properly, as expected.” She arched one eyebrow at him. “Or do you wish your father to have more with which he might criticize you?”
That seemed to force him to act. Scowling, he came to sit down in the seat next to her, his fingers clasped tightly together. Caroline could not help but notice just how white they were as he clasped his hands. It was clear to her that Lord Brandeis did not wish to be here.
“I would ask you, Brandeis, to do something akin to Weston, but I know that you are not that way inclined.”
Lord Fernley’s voice broke into Caroline’s thoughts, drawing her attention.
“And I fear that bawdy drinking songs are not what the present company would like to hear, as much as you would like to sing them,” Lord Fernley continued, drawing a chuckle from Lord Weston as well as from some of the other guests. “Perhaps with a little more brandy, we will be forced to endure them regardless!”
Again came the chuckles and, as Caroline looked at Lord Brandeis who was staring at the floor, his jaw clenched, she felt her heart break open with sympathy for him.
And then, she found herself on her feet.
“You must excuse me, my lord,” she said, addressing Lord Fernley. “I have something of a headache and Lord Brandeis had offered to accompany me to the library for a few minutes.” She waved away Lord and Lady Fernley’s suggestion of more aid but walked towards the door, sending a meaningful glance towards Lord Brandeis who, up until this point, did not seem quite certain of what she was doing.
“I shall have my maid accompany us, of course,” she continued, recalling at the last minute that she ought not to be alone with Lord Brandeis. “I shall see you all at dinner this evening. Do excuse us.”
Thankfully, Lord Brandeis was almost by her side and, nodding her thanks to the many words of concern over her health, Caroline opened the door and stepped through it, dragging in a long breath of relief as she exited the room.
“What was all that about?”
Caroline let out a small sigh, a little unsure as to how to explain it. She did not want Lord Brandeis to think that she felt sorry for him, but the truth was that she had been rather unsettled by how his father had spoken both to and about him, particularly in front of the other guests.
“Might we walk for a time?” she said, softly. “I think I just thought to take up your offer, but I knew we would need a reasonable excuse.”
Lord Brandeis did not speak for a moment, his eyes fixed on her own as though searching her expression for guile, but then he gave a small shrug and offered her his arm, which she took at once, looping her hand under his arm.
“You do not have a headache, then?” he asked, beginning to walk along the hallway. “If you do, I can have the staff fetch you something.”
She shook her head. “I am quite all right, I thank you.” Glancing up at him, she saw that he was looking straight ahead, his jaw still a little clenched. “I was surprised that your father spoke of you so, Lord Brandeis.”
That brought his eyes to hers. “Surprised, are you?” he repeated, with a harsh laugh. “I’m very much afraid, Caroline, that he speaks this way about me frequently.”
Pressing his arm, she looked back at him. “I did not think that I gave you leave to use my name, Lord Brandeis.” Desperately, she kept her face stern but could not help but gig
gle as he looked back at her with a raised eyebrow, his cheeks a little red.
“You are more proper than I, Miss Devonshire,” he said, eventually, as she laughed again. “I confess that I feel a little at sea, even though I am in my childhood home. My father has always spoken to me in such a way, even with guests in the house, and Weston, my brother, received nothing but praise. It gets rather wearying and, whilst you may think that I should be quite used to it by now, I will not pretend that it does not leave its mark.”
They walked in silence for a time, meandering through the house with little thought to their direction. Caroline felt his hurt, allowing his words to run through her mind repeatedly as she thought about them.
“Could you not, therefore, do as your father wishes, in order to alleviate some of his wrath?” she asked gently, praying that she was not prying too much. “After all, I am quite sure that he would then be so pleased with you that such things would stop completely.”
A sad smile pulled at Lord Brandeis’s lips. “Ah, but you see, Miss Devonshire, I have already tried as much. I’m afraid that, no matter what I do, I shall never measure up to Weston. He has done everything right, has done everything well, and I will always be something of a failure in my father’s eyes.”
The grief in his expression made Caroline’s heart wrench, despite her determination not to feel anything for this man. Peter was quite right to say that there was more to him than she had first thought. Caroline began to feel as though she were only just touching the surface of Lord Brandeis’s true character.
“And so you have simply decided to become the worst version of yourself?” she asked, gently, pressing his arm. “Or is it that you are trying to convince yourself that you do not care?”
He stopped walking, turning to face her as he dropped her hand from his arm. Sparks began to flood her vision, her stomach filling with butterflies. Had she said too much? Had she spoken out of turn? She was not quite sure just how much the nobility spoke of their innermost thoughts and feelings, but she was not one to shy away from such things. Caroline recalled just how often she had spoken to Mrs. Beeson about the pain and grief she felt over her parent's death and her brother’s absence, finding it cathartic to express herself so fully.
