by Rose Pearson
“And so you saved my son’s life,” the marquess stated, as Peter’s conversation came to a close. “My goodness. Who would have thought it?”
“Who would have thought what, Father?” Lord Brandeis asked, sounding a trifle on edge. “I hope you have no intention of insulting my good friend.”
Her fork fell with a clatter on her plate, her stomach churning with the sudden icy tension that had filled the room. Warm with embarrassment, Caroline made to adjust her fork, only to recall that she had no need to do anything of the sort. Folding her hands in her lap, she did not raise her eyes to either Lord Brandeis or her brother, reminding herself to remain quite silent and unobtrusive.
“I meant nothing, Brandeis,” Lord Fernley said, mildly. “I suppose I did not expect that you should have to do actual physical combat, although I am glad to hear that you did. What a shame, however, that you could not fight your corner when it came to it. I would have thought that a man with your status and training would not have required the service of a....” He paused, and Caroline felt her fingers dig into the soft skin of her palms.
“Of another man,” the Marquess finished, quietly. “You are the one with some training, after all.”
Lord Brandeis cleared his throat. “I hardly think that a few lessons with the fencing master adequately prepares oneself for the difficult trials of war, father.”
Again, came the short, tense silence.
“No, I suppose it does not,” the marquess admitted finally, surprising Caroline a great deal for she had expected him to dismiss Lord Brandeis’s words outright. “But then again, my boy, I did not purchase you colors in the hope that you would have to actually fight!”
“Then what did you expect, father?”
Again, the tension swirled around the room, crackling between Lord Brandeis and his father. Caroline shifted a little uncomfortably in her seat, silently wishing that she could escape to her room unnoticed. It felt as though she were intruding into what was a terribly private conversation, and yet it was one that Lord Brandeis felt quite able to have with his own father in front of the guests.
“I thought, Brandeis, that with the obligations and duties you had in your position in the army, that you would come to learn what is expected of you as a gentleman of nobility. In my mind, I believed that it would teach you what it is like to have men depending on you, what it is to think with consideration instead of only thinking about what your own desires are.” He shrugged, picking up his wine glass. “I hoped it might help round you into the kind of man I expect you to be, Brandeis.”
Caroline swallowed hard, managing to drag her eyes up towards Lord Brandeis and seeing the bright red dots that now flared in his cheeks. He was clearly very angry, but she herself could not find anything wrong with what the Marquess of Fernley had said. There was goodness in his intentions, and she thought him to be rather wise, given that Lord Brandeis was, as far as she had seen, a rogue and a rascal. Gentlemen of the nobility had standards of behavior and conduct that Lord Brandeis clearly was not living up to. She could well understand why Lord Fernley had chosen to purchase colors for his son. He wanted him to improve, to be better than he currently was. Could there truly be anything wrong with that desire?
“And I do hope I have improved, father,” Lord Brandeis said, eventually, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Even though, as you say, I was not able to hold my own on the battlefield.”
His eyes met Caroline’s and she was stunned to see the deep, raging hurt that ran through his expression. He turned his face from her almost at once, as though he was afraid to let her see what he was feeling.
Her heart tore.
“Lady Winters thinks me decent enough at least.”
She flushed immediately, hating that Lord Brandeis had suddenly forced every person’s eye onto her. He knew that she was trying to keep as little attention on her as possible and yet he had muttered something so careless that now everyone was looking over at her – including the marquess himself. Quite at a loss as to what to do, she shrugged and managed a small smile, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth.
“Indeed,” Lord Fernley agreed, his expression a little rueful. “Lady Winter, I am quite sure that you have excellent judgment and wisdom, having endured what you have done in your young years.”
She swallowed hard, her mind scrambling to recall what it was she was meant to have endured. There was nothing but silence, the moment stretching long before her as she tried to find something to say.
“But Lady Winter has quite recovered from the loss of her husband,” Lord Brandeis said, his tone harsh. “I am doing all I can to prove myself to her, father, just as I am with you.”
Caroline wished she could sink into the floor, hating that the evening’s conversation had turned so disastrous. She could tell that there were still some guests looking at her, expecting her to say something, but she could not find anything helpful to add. Lord Fernley let out a long, audible sigh, as if greatly displeased with Lord Brandeis, shaking his head just a little.
“I am quite sure you will prove yourself to both myself and Lady Winter, Brandeis,” he said, slowly. “But such things take time. I am certain that Lady Winter knows of your reputation, just as the rest of the ton do, but reputations, I suppose, can change.” He shot a glance at Caroline and gave her a small, encouraging smile that she supposed was meant to be an apology for dragging her into the conversation. “Now, shall we let the ladies go through?”
Caroline practically shot out of her chair the moment Lady Fernley rose to her feet, almost managing to catch her gown on the bottom of the chair. Were it not for the sharp-eyed footman, who managed to lift her chair clean off the floor so that she would not snag it, Caroline might have found herself in a heap on the floor, but such was her embarrassment that she barely noticed. Without so much as looking at Lord Brandeis, she hurried after Lady Fernley and Miss Gosford, desperate to be away from the unpleasant atmosphere.
“I do apologize, Lady Winter,” Lady Fernley murmured, as they walked into the drawing room. “He is clearly a little on edge and my husband.....” She trailed off, biting her lip. “Both Lord Fernley and I have long hoped that Brandeis will become the kind of gentleman we wish him to be,” she explained, her eyes a little dim. “It has been a prolonged period of hoping and wishing and praying, Lady Winter, but it appears that, finally, he is beginning to round out.”
Caroline, feeling as though she were being asked a question she could not quite answer, gave Lady Fernley a tight smile. “I am aware of Lord Brandeis’s reputation, Lady Fernley,” she said, quickly, not quite sure if what she was saying was what the lady was looking for. “However, I have seen him change right before my very eyes this last while.” This was, at least, the truth, although Caroline did not want to go any further than that, feeling uncomfortable enough with what she was expressing. “Lord Brandeis has treated me with great consideration, Lady Fernley. I am very glad to be here and to be a part of what is only the start of a wonderful house party, I am sure.”
Holding her breath, she waited for a moment, but thankfully Lady Fernley smiled, her eyes lighting one again. Apparently, Caroline had said the right things.
“Thank you, Lady Winter, and may I again apologize for you being dragged into such an awkward and personal conversation when you have only just arrived,” Lady Fernley said, just as the maids brought in the tea. “It was quite unexpected, I assure you.”
Caroline smiled and nodded, coming to sit by Miss Gosford who, of course, had taken her seat a little away from where Caroline had been talking to Lady Fernley, so as not to eavesdrop on their conversation.
“Now, Miss Gosford,” Caroline began, taking her seat opposite the lady. “You must tell me all about your wedding plans. I cannot tell you how delighted I am to be a part of what I am certain will be a wonderful day.”
Miss Gosford lit up at once, her blank expression suddenly becoming quite animated as she began to talk about what was planned. Caroline let out a
slow sigh of relief, careful not to draw attention to herself. She had hoped that, in asking Miss Gosford such a question, the conversation would shift towards the wedding and away from Caroline and Lord Brandeis, which was just what Miss Gosford was doing. Lady Fernley appeared to be quite relieved also, sending the occasional glance towards Caroline and smiling gently whenever Caroline caught her eye. Recalling that the gentlemen might, in fact, be some time until they came through from their port to join the ladies, Caroline allowed herself to relax just a little, finally feeling as though she had managed a small degree of success in her first venture into the world of nobility.
Chapter Nine
Letting out a loud groan, Caroline threw the pillow over her head and clasped it to her ears in the desperate hope that, in doing so, she might be able to ignore whoever it was banging at her door.
Unfortunately, that did nothing but waken her further, to the point that she was forced to sit up in bed and glare angrily at the door.
“Who is it?”
“Caroline?”
Closing her eyes, Caroline felt her heart quicken as she recognized Lord Brandeis’s voice. He was not referring to her as he ought and certainly should not be anywhere near her bedchamber door when she had retired. Her anxiety began to grow all the more as he knocked again.
“Caroline? Let me in.”
His voice was slurred and yet overly loud, making her cringe. If one of the staff should hear him – or see him – then all sorts of rumors would start. Her breath caught. What if Lady Fernley herself was to hear her son shouting at Caroline’s door? All that she thought of Caroline would fly out of her head the moment she did so, which would mean that everything she hoped about her son would fracture and shatter in a moment.
“Lord Brandeis,” Caroline hissed, swinging her legs onto the cold floor and pulling her dressing gown over her arms, belting it tightly. “Lord Brandeis, you must go away.”
There was silence for a moment.
“I need to talk to you, Caroline.”
She rested her head against the door, hearing his breathing from the other side. He sounded frantic, as though there was something of great urgency that he had to tell her, and yet she knew that it was nothing more than liquor.
“Lord Brandeis, retire to your bed and I shall talk to you in the morning,” she said, firmly. “You are quite drunk.”
His hand rattled the door handle, making her jump.
“Please,” he said, his voice now rather breathy as he leaned against it. “Just for a moment.”
Against her better judgment, Caroline turned the key and opened the door a crack, only to see Lord Brandeis push hard against it and force it wide open. She stared at him for a moment, astonished to see just how ravaged his face appeared in the candlelight. His shirt was slightly untucked, his cravat gone entirely, and his hair in such a state of disarray that it gave him a wild appearance.
“Lord Brandeis,” she said firmly, leaving the door wide open and stepping in front of it so that he could not close it and ensconce them both inside. “Whatever is the matter? You are behaving quite ridiculously.”
He shook his head, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “You should have stood up for me.”
Her heart dropped to her toes. “What are you talking about, Brandeis?” she said, as quietly as she could. “I did all I could.”
His finger shot out, shaking at her as though she were about to receive some kind of lecture from him.
“You said nothing!” he exclaimed, his eyes burning with a sudden, furious rage. “My father was busy telling me that I was no good and I looked to you to deny those words but you remained silent!”
Slowly realizing that Lord Brandeis meant the strained conversation at the dinner table, Caroline felt herself bristle with annoyance.
“I did what I could, Lord Brandeis,” she said firmly, batting his hand away as anger began to surge through her. “This was my first dinner with your family and their guests, if you recall.”
His lip curled and he shrugged, swaying slightly. “What does that matter?”
Feeling her blood heating all the more, Caroline lifted her chin and stood her ground. “If you are able to consider someone other than yourself for a moment, Lord Brandeis, then you might recall that I was, in fact, particularly nervous about this evening. I am not here to defend you to anyone who asks, I am here to help you show them that you are supposedly a changed man.”
Glaring at her, Lord Brandeis shook his head, scowling. “You think he is correct, do you not?”
Growing weary of his presence, Caroline sighed. “Do I think your father is correct, Lord Brandeis? Yes, of course, I do.” She did not shirk as he took a step forward, looking into his face without fear. “Do you not recall that this is, in fact, nothing more than a ruse? That your character is just the same that it has always been? You may state that you wish your father’s blessing, but you have done nothing to earn it, Lord Brandeis. This is nothing more than a sham. You are exactly the kind of man your father believes you to be, and I shall not speak up in your defense when there is no truth to speak.” She tilted her head, seeing the fire go out in his eyes. “I will speak the truth about you, Lord Brandeis, but shroud it as best I can. I will express my hope that you are truly a changed character, all the while knowing that it is by no means proven, either to myself or to anyone else. Does that now satisfy you, my lord?”
He stumbled back as though she had struck him. Caroline did not feel any sort of guilt or shame in speaking so frankly, ignoring the way that her heart squeezed rather painfully as he looked back at her with a deep, unsettling agony in his expression. She kept her head high, resolving in her heart to do just as she had said. Deep down, she admitted that her first impression of both the Marquess of Fernley and his wife had been a good one, for she had found them both gracious and considerate. There was a respect for them already building in her heart. Whilst she would do what Lord Brandeis had asked and attempt to aid him in his struggle to behave with all consideration and propriety whilst he was here, she would not lie outright about his character. Yes, she would continue the charade of her status in society, of her title and background and relationship with Lord Brandeis, but she would not tell falsehoods about his character to the Marchioness. She would state clearly, as she had done this evening, that she had seen him change in how he approached her during the furthering of their acquaintance. She would express hope that it would be a permanent sort of change, but to lie and say that he was a truly reformed gentlemen was beyond her.
“You have failed me, Miss Devonshire,” Lord Brandeis whispered, his face now sheet white. “This is not what I asked of you.”
“This is precisely what you asked of me,” Caroline replied, with alacrity. “I am helping you to conduct yourself with all propriety just as you have asked me. However, you are still in my bedchamber despite my request for you to leave and return to your own room, Lord Brandeis, which is putting both your own reputation as well as mine, at great risk.” She gestured impatiently towards the open doorway, growing irritated with herself for opening the door in the first place. “If you’ll excuse me, I am rather tired.”
Lord Brandeis stared at her for a few moments, his lip curling as he wavered between spitting out a few more words in her direction or quitting the room, as she had asked. Thankfully, he turned on his heel and stalked from the room, although his steps were not all that steady given the amount of liquor that sloshed in his belly.
Weak with relief, Caroline shut the door tightly behind him and turned the key, feeling as though she had won some sort of battle. Glad for the blazing fire’s warmth, she slipped off her dressing gown and crawled back into bed, rubbing her eyes with one hand.
Trying to let herself drift back into sleep, Caroline could not help but reflect on just how easily she had been taken in by Lord Brandeis on their journey to Lord Fernley’s estate. It was quite her own fault, of course, for she had thought him quite kind and considerate in the way he ha
d tried to reassure her and comfort her in her anxiety and nervousness. Now, of course, she realized that he had just been playing a part. He needed her to be at her best, required her to be Lady Winter and to act with all elegance and grace – and so comforting her was entirely for his own benefit. She had been foolish to think so highly of him. After all, this was nothing more than a charade for the benefit of his family, so that his father would stop haranguing him so much. It was quite ridiculous of her to have allowed herself to feel almost sorry for him as he had struggled against the weight of his father’s words.
Why was it that, as she closed her eyes, Lord Brandeis’s pain-filled expression came back to her mind? Why was it that she could not rid herself of that? She did not want to feel sympathy for him, did not want to feel compassion or even worry over what he endured. To allow herself to feel anything would bring nothing but regret.
“Foolish girl,” she muttered to herself, pushing Lord Brandeis from her mind entirely. “Do not allow yourself to get caught in his trap. You are better than that.”
Letting out a long sigh, Caroline snuggled into the most comfortable bed she had ever slept in, deciding to forget about this evening’s events entirely. She was here to enjoy herself, to experience a life that she would never be able to be a part of again. To pretend to be Baroness Winters was enough of an adventure. She did not need to add Lord Brandeis and his troubles to it.
The following day found Caroline reading quietly in the library as the rest of the house guests remained in their beds. She had slept quite well but had, apparently, risen earlier than any of the other guests – much to her maid’s surprise. When Caroline had rung the bell pull, the maid had appeared almost concerned, as though expecting Caroline to be ill or something equally dreadful. Caroline had not wanted to show her astonishment that the other members of the household were not yet even awake, trying to remind herself that she should not expect the nobility to rise with any kind of urgency, given that they had nothing particular to do on any given day. She had, however, taken breakfast in her room and had then allowed the maid to help her dress and prepare herself. The undergarments she was wearing were still taking some time to get used to, although the gowns were wonderfully soft and incredibly beautiful. She now sat primly with a book in her hand, half wishing that she could slump amongst the cushions as she might do back at home but knowing she could not for fear of wrinkling her dress.
