At the time, she wondered if the pleasant hue of his skin was due to time spent in the sun or a natural inclination. She suspected that, given these months of being indoors, it was the latter. Perhaps he had something other than English ancestry in his blood. He boasted a handsome face with high cheekbones, and his physique was lean but not what she would call thin. His daughters, on the other hand, must have taken more after their mother.
She wondered, in that moment, why he hadn’t married again. Perhaps he had murdered his wife. Otherwise, how else could he have remained unmarried? There were few women’s heads he would not turn, she was certain of it. Her closest friend, Viola, who had a history of becoming infatuated with every handsome man she met, would be mute in his presence.
Then, seeing the duke’s daughters drove her rather shocking thoughts from her head.
Their expressions spoke of fretful expectation and the trepidation in their eyes wrenched at her heart.
Caroline nearly, but did not quite, forget about the duke in her bid to reassure them, and their warmth toward her allayed some of her own fears. Soon enough, she was thankful that these two girls were her new charges and thinking again that her employment could signify good fortune. She hadn’t expected to gain their affection so quickly, if at all.
Maybe it’s meant to be.
The girls barely allowed her the time to have a bath and change clothing before they took her on a spirited tour of The Thornlands.
They started with the inner rooms, where the wealth of her new employer was rendered even more obvious. It wasn’t that the duke’s tastes were garish. Far from it. It was, quite simply, that everything, from the paintings to the vases to the furniture, was of the highest standard, and each item was beautifully crafted.
Then, they reached the dining room.
On the far wall, Caroline observed a portrait of a pale, golden-haired lady with blue eyes. Something about the unknown woman unsettled her. On closer inspection, she must have been Phoebe and Sophie’s mother because the resemblance was so strong.
Tentatively, Caroline asked if this was the case, reluctant to upset either girl, but too curious not to inquire.
Sophie blandly informed her that, yes, it was. Interestingly, it seemed that neither she nor her sister were overly saddened by their mother’s death. Caroline could not say if that was because they had been even younger than they were now when she passed, and thus could not exactly remember their mother. She knew that, for her own part, even though she could not even remember her mother, thinking about Lily left her with a warm glow.
Caroline stopped staring at the portrait and quickly asked to be shown the grounds. She needn’t have worried about her possible faux pas because neither girl realized how uncomfortable she was.
Phoebe grabbed her skirt and led the way for them to go outside.
Even outdoors, she couldn’t help but imagine the late Lady Malliston’s striking blue eyes were watching her, boring through the walls and glass to peer upon her…
Ultimately, Caroline decided to try not to think about the portrait again and, all through dinner, she resolved not to look at it, either.
Father must be right. He’s almost always right, she thought, as the shadows flickered on her ceiling. The problem was, she was often right, too, and only one of them could be correct about Lady Malliston’s fate. She didn’t want to think that the man who’d so distracted her had murdered his own wife.
She sighed.
First thing in the morning, she would write to her father. He would want to know how she had fared on her journey. It was premature, yet, to tell him how she felt about living at The Thornlands. But she could let him know she was well, and that the young girls were lovely. After she sent the letter, she would take to her duties.
Evidently, the duke was friendly enough to host friends and neighbors in his house. Could he really be as bad as people said?
Lord Malliston is bound to be the good man Papa deemed him to be. How could he have raised Sophie and Phoebe, otherwise? she thought sternly, trying to take control of her mind.
Over time, she would come to a better understanding of the situation. She was confident, too, that she’d become a valued member of the household.
Chapter Five
In the space of two days, Caroline stopped trying to think well of the Duke of Nidderdale.
He was, perhaps, the worst father she’d ever encountered.
Fuming, trying to keep a handle on her emotions, she passed through the garden in search of Lord Malliston. In far less than half a week, he’d proven himself a selfish, thoughtless man who gave very little care to his girls.
It’s only been two days, she thought with amazement. Barely two days.
Oh, he had performed well on the afternoon she arrived, providing the illusion that he was simply an aloof man with more affairs than just his children to attend to. And despite his lack of contact with his daughters, he appeared to mind very much who looked after them.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
Sophie and Phoebe had only continued to endear themselves to Caroline, but their father had inspired a fury that displaced her initial intrigue. She was so furious that she no longer wondered who had killed Lady Malliston, not because she believed he had, but because his other foibles were sharply obvious.
It wasn’t her place and she shouldn’t have been possessed by the desire to shake him at the shoulders until his teeth rattled.
Not that I could even if we were friends, she thought, twitching up her skirts as she walked through a thick carpet of dead leaves.
Lord Malliston was much larger than her. She would need to stand on a chair to even reach his shoulders, much less to shake him.
When Duckie had told her of his upcoming party, she thought the duke was only trying to rekindle goodwill between him and the local gentry. At the time, she’d thought it noble of him to try.
How naïve of me.
Duckie’s words had been laced with enough hints. She was merely too inexperienced to comprehend them. She was not a simple woman. But due to her father’s place in life and their lack of both wealth and connections, she had not been exposed to very much of the world. There hadn’t been the opportunities for her to experience the ways of men or understand their tastes.
With dismay, Caroline had come to realize that the duke’s friends, none of whom seemed to be directly local, were raucous and lewd.
She, still trying to believe the best about Lord Malliston, had originally thought Duckie’s warning to not be seen by “the men” was too zealous. Therefore, she hadn’t chosen to be more covert. Apart from that, The Thornlands was so large and complex she was still learning the multiple ways to move about the manor and grounds. It was not easy to remember the more private ways to and fro.
After settling the children in their beds, Caroline had taken a leisurely, chilly walk in the garden. Feeling refreshed, she then wanted to retire for the night. On her way inside, she encountered a man just entering the manor, struggling with his bags, and surmised that he was a late arrival to the duke’s party. Lord Malliston did not employ a large number of staff, so no one was present to relieve this stranger of his baggage or direct him.
Raised by both Aunt Lydia and her father to be polite, she greeted him deferentially. It would have been rude not to, for she was directly in his sight. She was rewarded for her efforts with a lascivious wink and a quietly uttered, but clearly meant, remark. Astonished by his crude behavior, Caroline hurried to her room without making anything of it. He might have been intoxicated already. Although that was not an excuse, inebriation could lead even the best men down a path that they might regret.
While she could have permitted the one slight toward her, Caroline refused to overlook the presence of dubiously reputed ladies in the manor. She had woken and discovered not just one, but at least three, strange women garbed in risqué attire floating about The Thornlands. None of them slighted her. They greeted her with courtesy, and s
he tried to be courteous in return. One was quite sweet, asking Caroline where she might find Duckie, whom she appeared to remember fondly from another one of these gatherings.
What Lord Malliston chose to do in privacy and seclusion was his own business. This, though, was beyond her comprehension. Caroline could not believe the duke solicited the custom of strange women while his own family was home.
What if Sophie or Phoebe came across one of these ladies? Of course, she made sure that the girls did not wander at will, but they could easily toddle from their rooms to the rest of the house without an adult noticing for quite some time. It was such a vast estate.
It wasn’t exactly the ladies who bothered Caroline. She supposed that everyone had to make their way in the world, somehow.
It was what the girls might see them doing with the men that concerned her. Not only were they far too young to encounter such adult things, there was also a proper context in which they should learn about them.
Later, too, she thought.
How was she to know that the duke’s party was a gambling and – she cringed as she thought the word – whoring party?
Caroline was so embroiled by her annoyance that it was too late when she caught the sounds.
Slowly, she noticed that the closer she came to the heart of the garden, the more distinctly she heard soft gasps and little, breathless laughs. They came from both a man and a woman. This was not surprising given the purpose of Lord Malliston’s party – and they were clearly engaged. The foliage was still too plentiful for her to see anything.
Caroline was relieved, but slightly disappointed, that it shielded her.
She found it unlikely that the man in question was the duke. Surely even he, with all his apparent proclivities for the improper, would not engage in relations in his own garden. This must be one of his wonderful friends.
It is broad daylight, and winter, for heaven’s sake!
Although she was blushing, she found the whole situation ridiculous. This was modern England and there shouldn’t be any room for bacchanals in gardens.
She kept treading forward, seething, avoiding the living plants at her toes as well as she could. It was an unseasonably mild winter that felt more like autumn, which she supposed had partially encouraged this liaison’s outdoor venue.
She didn’t see the duo until she was well within the secluded garden’s center. Caroline was ready to give them quite a dressing down, whether or not it was strictly her own purview to do so.
What if one of the maids or Duckie had decided to take the girls out for a morning constitutional? Fornicating in a bedchamber was one thing, but this was another matter!
Caroline kept marching right up to the amorous pair.
Then she realized who the man was, and stopped dead, caught between horror and… Caroline Sedgwyck, you cannot possibly be jealous of a common doxy.
The nagging taint of jealousy brought with it shame, and inexplicably, anger.
Lord Malliston sat on the very bench she’d occupied last evening, gazing up at the clear twilight skies and thanking her good fortune. But upon his lap there was a raven-haired woman with her skirts drawn up to her thighs, and it was very obvious that they were – there was no other way that Caroline, so flustered, could put it – enjoying each other’s company. Intimately. The duke’s face rested against the woman’s exposed bosom, which he was nuzzling, eliciting the lady’s groans of pleasure. When he shifted his right hand under her skirts, moving it deftly, Caroline gawped with morbid curiosity.
Whatever he was doing, his companion was appreciative.
Even though Caroline had never happened upon such a sight in all her years, she was not ignorant of what she was witnessing. Neither her father nor her aunt knew, but once she had entered her teens, she started to indulge in books they would have surely deemed inappropriate. She had simply secreted them out of sight and read them under the cover of darkness after everyone had gone to bed, with only a low candle for weak light.
What she had not done, however, was engage in any activities the books described.
Although she wanted to attribute the warmth in her cheeks to pure mortification, she couldn’t. While she was startled by the sight and angry at its ramifications for the duke’s girls, her disloyal body seemed to be responding in a way that was not unfavorable.
After a few moments, she gave a rather loud, affronted noise of confusion, and it was even enough for the duke to glance up, startled, looking over the woman’s pale shoulder.
His brown eyes met Caroline’s.
Then he flew to his feet, causing his lover to tumble off his lap, and the bench, in a tangle of cerulean skirts. She hit the ground with a grunt of pain, but neither Lord Malliston nor Caroline acknowledged it.
Caroline could not stop looking at him, even as he struggled with his trousers. Her eyes ranged no lower than his face, and she made no attempt to disguise the mingled disappointment and uncertainty that had to be legible in her expression.
She prayed that if she exhibited anything less than fitting for a respectable woman, whether that was pique or – Heaven forbid – lust, it was not evident to him.
“Do you know no shame?” she said finally. Caroline gestured behind herself toward the manor. “Your own daughters are in there!”
He did not respond; he just stared at her.
She sighed and ignored the woman who was still sitting on the ground and fixing her dress so that she was not exposed. “You could have at least sought out this kind of company elsewhere! If you must have it. Perhaps all the rumors about you are true, my lord.”
Careful, Caroline, she thought. You’re neither his wife nor his family. You are not even his friend.
She decided it would be better to turn heel and go back the way she came. With as much dignity as she could muster, she shook her head and started off. Her mind was whirling.
Could she stay under his roof if he was so irresponsible? What might happen to Sophie or Phoebe if she left?
Duckie had made it seem like these parties were infrequent, which was only a small blessing. Caroline knew there had been more than one.
She hadn’t gone three feet before the duke caught up with her.
She kept walking, but his legs were long and he kept pace with her easily.
“Miss Sedgwyck,” he said.
She kept silent, her lips pursed.
“Miss Sedgwyck,” he repeated.
Now, he was walking by her side, the woman with whom he had just been intimate apparently all but forgotten. This raised her ire, again, and she came to a halt, fixing him with what she intended to be a cold look. Is that how he regards us women? she thought.
“I have nothing to say to you, my lord,” she said.
The nicety tasted sour on her tongue.
“But I have something to say to you,” Lord Malliston said. He was calm, but there was a tight set to his well-defined, thin lips that belied his nerves.
Caroline crossed her arms, hugging herself. “You may say it, if you wish. But do not take too long. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your paramour.”
She couldn’t resist making the jibe.
Lord Malliston sighed. He said, “First, I am… extremely sorry that you happened upon me and ah, my… friend. Believe me, had I known someone would venture close, we would have found a more… discreet place.”
Caroline blanched. “That’s all you are sorry for? That someone came across you? My lord, the issue was not that you weren’t in a discreet place.”
He scowled. “That is not your assessment to make.”
She would have none of it. He taxed her self-control.
“Save your apologies, Lord Malliston,” she said. The honorific, though still acrid in her mouth, helped her sound as deferential as she should have been. “I am in no way connected to your family. Of course I have no right to judge you. You may do whatever you desire in any corner of The Thornlands. But if I was a father, I would reconsider my behavior when it might badl
y impact my children.” Agitated, she started to pace in front of him. “On top of your coldness toward Sophie and Phoebe which, by the way, I even noticed – me, a stranger – with these parties, you place them in circumstances that may lead them to abuse or moral confusion. You have a responsibility, my lord, to ensure they are safe and well-educated in how to comport themselves as titled young ladies.”
He stared at her, affronted, but she was not done.
“That’s neither here nor there, though… I cannot be a governess or a tutor in the midst of such…” she searched for words. “Debauchery. Negligence. I shall ask Edgar that my trunk be packed within the hour. If you will be so kind as to permit your driver to take me back to –”
Lord Malliston interrupted her sharply. “You are declaring that you will abandon your post?”
“That is what rouses a response from you?” But if Caroline was not mistaken, there was new contrition sneaking onto his angular, elegant face. “Yes.”
“Whatever for? I thought you liked the girls as much as they adore you. Was I wrong in this supposition?”
There was enough puzzlement in the duke’s glinting, amber-brown eyes to cause Caroline to have yet more visions of shaking him until his teeth rattled, the lack of a convenient chair for her to stand upon be damned.
How could he not understand her chagrin?
Instead of inflicting violence against his person, she settled for breathing an exasperated sigh.
“You must understand that I have no complaints about the girls. They are nearly perfect charges,” she said.
Perhaps instead of shaking him, I could kick him in the shins.
“Then you wish to go on my account.”
“Finally, you are speaking with some sense.” It was bold of her, but she could not curtail her tongue.
The duke’s abandoned paramour emerged at that moment.
Fuming angrily and tossing a vitriolic glare in Caroline’s direction, she toddled in the general direction of the manor. She conspicuously lacked stockings, and Caroline knew that a woman of her profession would not bother to wear any out of the house in the first place. But she may as well have been nonexistent for all the attention Lord Malliston accorded her very pointed departure.
Duke of Havoc Page 7
