Caspian leaned back in his chair and tried to decide whether or not to ask about his aunt again, but he felt as though his mother had purposefully led him away from that inquiry. Another time, then. I’ll ask another time.
Because despite Joanne’s insistence that she knew nothing about Lady Helena, Caspian couldn’t chase away his doubts that his mother actually knew quite a bit as was just concealing what she knew. What she might be hiding, he wasn’t sure, but Caspian was nonetheless determined to learn.
* * *
A couple days later, Caspian went to the market. He’d received a letter from Lady Florence, noting that she and a mutual friend would be at the market and that he ought to join them if it was convenient.
This mutual friend was quite obviously Lady Gwendoline, although Caspian would never declare that the woman was his friend. But maybe she didn’t have to be his enemy anymore. Maybe there was a new place for Lady Gwendoline, even if he wasn’t sure quite yet what that place may be.
He kept a leisurely, seemingly disinterested pace as he walked along the market. It was so alive here, people going about every which way. There were elegantly dressed ladies mingled together with merchants and commoners. A group of fishermen rowed their boat in, bringing in the nets filled with their catches.
There was something in the air, in the scent of fish and flowers and the cries of exotic birds that stirred Caspian’s blood. The market felt like another world, one infinitely more exciting than his own.
Caspian had a great-grandfather whom his family called mad. It was said that the man left his earldom and life of privilege to pursue a life as a sailor, something which was obviously quite scandalous. What was that man’s name?
John, Caspian recalled.
Caspian had never before lingered on the exploits of his most infamous scandalous ancestor, second only—perhaps—to Lady Helena.
Soon, Caspian spied the back of Lady Florence’s dress. He’d seen her wear the garment before and knew it without her having turned around. “Why, is that Lady Florence?” he asked, feigning surprise.
Although there wasn’t much need for surprise here. No one seemed to be paying them any heed.
Lady Florence turned around, along with Lady Gwendoline, who stood beside her in a green gown trimmed with delicate white lace. Their lady’s maids halted, remaining a respectable distance away from the young women. “Lord Caspian,” Lady Florence said, “what a lovely surprise! What brings you to the market today?”
“Boredom, I suppose. I thought I might relieve some of it. And yourself, My Lady?”
Lady Florence smiled and glanced at Lady Gwendoline. “I suppose it is the same for me,” she said.
“Perhaps, I ought to join you. That sounds agreeable, doesn’t it?”
Lady Gwendoline wrinkled her nose, looking as if she’d just discovered something disgusting. But her eyes betrayed her eagerness. The Lady would pretend they were still enemies, so as to not arouse suspicion, which suited Caspian fine.
“If you insist upon it.”
“Oh, I do,” Caspian replied cheerfully. “Let us go, shall we?”
He sauntered ahead and winked at Lady Gwendoline, whose cheeks reddened.
“Yes, let’s,” Lady Florence replied.
So the three of them began their stroll, the lady’s maids flanking them.
“I thought a public place might be agreeable,” Lady Florence said, keeping her voice low, “Since we’re discussing very sensitive revelations. The sound of the market ought to muffle our voices and keep attention away from us. At least, I hope it will be enough to distract our lady’s maids and any of the ton we may pass.”
“You know about this, then? Lady Gwendoline told me to speak to no one of what we have uncovered.”
“I assumed that Florence ought to know. She is arranging our secret rendezvous, after all,” Lady Gwendoline replied.
“Rendezvous? You make it sound as though we’re lovers,” Caspian said.
“Hardly,” Lady Gwendoline replied. “I’d never choose a lover like you.”
Her tone was more teasing than harsh. “No?” Caspian asked. “And I thought you were devoted to ending the feud between our families.”
“Oh, it isn’t that. It’s just that you have too many flaws.”
“You won’t find a man without flaw unless you have ambitions for abandoning your family and becoming a nun, married to Christ.”
“I don’t need a flawless man. Just one whose flaws are not so great as yours.”
“I thought you resolved to be kind!” Lady Florence exclaimed.
A smile twitched at Lady Gwendoline’s face, making it clear just how fake her angry façade truly was. “So I did. Did you learn anything of interest, My Lord, regarding Lady Helena?”
Caspian folded his hands behind his back and smirked. “I don’t know. Now, I feel more inclined to reflect upon my flaws.”
“We have only one afternoon, not a century of them, My Lord,” Lady Gwendoline replied.
Caspian chuckled. Even as an ally, Lady Gwendoline seemed to be a fiery lady. A bold lady. Doubtless, any man who she married would always know what occupied her mind.
“I learned very little,” Caspian conceded, “Unfortunately. My mother was hesitant to speak of Lady Helena, but I do suspect she’s hiding something from me.”
“Do you know what that may be?” Lady Gwendoline asked.
“Unfortunately, I don’t,” Caspian replied.
“Is it possible that both of your families know the truth of the matter?” Lady Florence asked.
“I can’t say,” Lady Gwendoline replied. “The more I read of Lady Helena’s letters, the more I feel as though she and my uncle must have run away together. But if my family knows, I’m sure they don’t know about the letters. Otherwise, I imagine my father would have destroyed them.”
“Where did you find them?” Caspian asked.
“In my uncle’s bedroom. No one has been in there for years. They were hidden in the wall and beneath the floorboards, and there may be more still that I haven’t found,” Lady Gwendoline replied.
“I wonder if we could find Lord Charles and Lady Helena,” Caspian muttered. “If they did elope together, surely, there must be some sign of where they went. Or somewhere we can begin searching.”
“But would finding them help?” Lady Florence asked.
Lady Gwendoline sighed. “I don’t know. I suppose it would prove that my uncle Charles did not abduct and murder Lady Helena, but I’m sure that if they eloped or ran away, they do not want to be found. And this was years before I was even born.”
“Me, too. It’s been thirty years now,” Caspian replied. “Even if there was evidence, it would be much harder to find it now.”
It seemed like, after some reflection, that he and Lady Gwendoline had such compelling, crucial evidence of something. But Caspian had no idea what to do with that information or how to use it. And yet he felt that he must do something with it. They must do something with it.
They reached the end of the market and turned the corner, where small shops lined the street. Lady Florence led the way, passing a vendor selling beautiful, fresh flowers. Their sweet smell blended with the scent of the street and bread baking in some nearby bakery.
“But I will keep searching. I may be able to find something if I search through my family’s papers,” Caspian said.
Assuming his father was away, anyway. There was no chance of the man letting Caspian look through the family papers, especially if there was a chance he might learn something potentially scandalous.
They paused by a new shop, one Caspian hadn’t seen before.
“Oh! A tea shop,” Lady Gwendoline said. “I could do with a nice cup of tea.”
“I could, too. Perhaps, we ought to go inside?” Lady Florence asked.
Caspian’s gaze lingered on Lady Gwendoline, at her dark eyes and soft, warm face. She was lovely. Breathtaking, even. If Lord Charles had even an ounce of that beauty, Caspian cou
ld imagine how his own aunt might have found the man alluring. Even if she knew that she ought not to.
“Yes,” Caspian said. “Let us go.”
Chapter 9
The tea shop was a warm-looking place with small, round tables and a wooden floor. The scent of tea leaves rose in the air, herbal and deep. Gwendoline inhaled the heavy scent of black tea and the warmth of honey. She adjusted her dress around her legs and straightened her back. Florence sat beside her with Lord Caspian across from her. The lady’s maids settled at the table behind them, silent and watchful.
Wouldn’t it be terribly enjoyable to lift my skirts and flee? I could take Lord Caspian’s hand, and together, we could disappear into the London streets!
It was an absurd idea, of course, and one that Gwendoline would never indulge. But it was so enjoyable to contemplate all the same.
Surely, I should not long to flee as much as I do. As a lady, I am a fortunate woman. A blessed woman. But I feel as though there’s something missing in my world. I only want a little adventure!
The distance was, at least, enough for a bit of privacy. When delicate teacups were placed before them, Gwendoline curled her hand around the warm porcelain. The feeling reminded her of Lord Caspian’s hand, and heat rushed to Gwendoline’s face. She hoped that the Lord didn’t notice the color which doubtlessly rose to her face.
“This is a lovely place,” Gwendoline said. “It reminds me of our little house. Do you remember, Florence? When we were girls, we used to spend our days in that little greenhouse behind the manor, and we would pretend that it was our own little place.”
“Of course, I remember. Your mother used to make the staff sneak us cakes and sweets, much to your father’s dismay. He said she was spoiling us.”
Gwendoline smiled fondly. Her mother Elizabeth, Lady Newhost, had not joined them in London, citing her poor health, but Gwendoline knew her mother was well enough. In fact, Gwendoline had never seen her mother even a little ill. But at sixty-years-old, Elizabeth felt as though she’d spent all the time she needed to spend in London, and she was tired of the Season’s glamour. It exhausted her.
I wonder if she ever thought as I do; if when she was young, she also wanted to flee her life of privilege and seek some grand adventure.
“Maybe she was,” Gwendoline said.
“I think that is the nature of mothers, or at least, how it should be. My mother was overly indulgent toward me, too,” Lord Caspian said. “Maybe she still is.”
“I have never spoken to your mother,” Gwendoline mused. “She’s a lovely lady, though. A striking one, too. And I daresay she has a sweet voice.”
“She is a lovely lady. Both inside and outside,” he replied, his voice warm. “She’s a better mother than I deserve, truth be told. I was a very troublesome child, and I fear enduring my childish tantrums has aged her.”
“Were you a terrible child?” Florence asked.
“Most definitely. I once decided that I was going to live in the forests behind our country estate because my governess read me an old Welsh story about a poet who did that,” Lord Caspian said.
“And how did that work for you?” Gwendoline asked. “Did you live in the forests behind the estate as a poet, reciting your sonnets to the trees and the streams?”
“Well, I did try it. I snuck into the kitchens and packed myself a fine lunch. It wouldn’t have fed me for very long, but I’d imagined that I would catch fish and survive off herbs and berries. And I went to the woods. I left my horse at the edge of the forest and set out on my own. It seemed like such a grand adventure. Of course, I was only ten.”
“Your parents must have been terrified that you’d met with some misfortune,” Gwendoline replied.
“Oh, I left them a letter containing my intentions, so they knew where I was. I bid them not to come after me, but of course, they did. My father was furious, but my mother found me amusing. She always indulged me more than my father. He was a very strict man.”
“And how did your adventure end, My Lord?” Gwendoline asked.
“My father followed and found me, but then, I was already leaving. I was afraid of the dark but had not realized precisely how afraid I was until I was beneath the trees at night and watched the shadows sweep across the leaf litter. I feared that some monster or witch might creep from the woods and do me harm, and so I resolved to leave as quickly as I could. It was autumn, too, so it was cold.”
“And I thought you were the perfect son, albeit one who enjoys the provocation of maidens,” Gwendoline replied.
“Excuse me? The provocation of maidens? I’ll have you know that I’m neither a rake nor a scoundrel, My Lady,” Lord Caspian said. “I respect a lady’s good name far too much to rile her.”
“Do you?” Gwendoline’s lips twitched in amusement. “How noble of you, then. So you aren’t a perfect son. You’re a terrible one who once resolved to live in the forests outside his father’s grand estate, but you’re one who nevertheless strongly cares about the honor of ladies.”
Lord Caspian chuckled and grinned at her. “I’ll accept the compliment, but I thought I had so many flaws that you could scarcely endure being at my side. Did you not say so, My Lady?”
“Am I not allowed to change my mind?” Gwendoline asked.
“Usually, ladies do not change their minds so quickly,” Caspian replied.
“And my dear friend is not an exception,” Florence said. “Why, I have never seen someone so strong in their convictions as Gwendoline! If she decided to move the mountains or the sea one day, I don’t doubt she could do it.”
“And why would I wish to do something like that?” Gwendoline asked. “I think the mountains and the seas are already placed quite nicely.”
Florence took a sip of tea and gazed at Gwendoline over the cup. There was a slyness in her expression, as if she was planning something mischievous and wonderful.
She’s hoping I’ll admit that Lord Caspian is not so bad as he seems, Gwendoline thought.
And perhaps, Florence was right. Gwendoline wondered if she had only ever hated Lord Caspian over the years because of the animosity between their families. Maybe she had missed something very special in Lord Caspian. Maybe this was the opportunity for her to discover more about him.
Gwendoline looked at Lord Caspian’s hands, one on the saucer and the other on his cup of tea. He had fine hands and long fingers, thin musician’s hands. Gwendoline stroked the pad of her own finger, the tiny cut scabbed over.
“And I think,” Gwendoline said, “that people, like mountains and seas, are always exactly where they’re supposed to be.”
“Strange that you believe that,” Lord Caspian replied. “I had thought that a strong-willed lady like you would believe that there is no purpose in anything, save for the one you make.”
“I would say it’s a bit of both. At least, I like to think so. You’re born exactly where you’re meant to be, and the rest is in your hands.”
But Gwendoline wasn’t sure that she did believe that. How long had she dreamed of being something more than herself? Something more than an earl’s daughter and the maker of her own destiny?
For so long. But she couldn’t. The rational side of her knew that, but there was another part of Gwendoline that longed to embrace a fantasy, to be something more than herself.
“What an interesting idea,” Lord Caspian said. “But don’t you ever feel, as a member of the ton, that your destiny is already predetermined by your position?”
“I suppose it is,” Gwendoline said slowly, trying to sort out her own thoughts on the matter. “But I also know that no member of the ton is precisely like another. And I like to think that I have the control over what I may be in the future. Don’t you feel that way, My Lord?”
Lord Caspian hummed and took a sip of his tea. His green eyes fixed thoughtfully on her face.
“Oh!” Florence exclaimed suddenly. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I have just recalled something I meant to tell my lady
’s maid.”
Taking her tea with her, Florence swept to the table where the lady’s maids sat. Gwendoline frowned, unsure whether her friend really had any matter to discuss with her lady’s maid.
“So we have been abandoned,” Lord Caspian said.
“Hardly that,” Gwendoline replied. “I could lean back and touch my dear friend or my lady’s maid if I so desired.”
The Lord chuckled. “What were we talking about? Our futures, wasn’t it?”
The Earl That Overruled My Destiny Page 8
