And these aren’t normal circumstances. These are worse than usual. We don’t know the identity of our letter writer. He may be watching me even now.
“I don’t suppose we’ll ever tarry any closer to the property,” Caspian said.
But at least everything seemed peaceful enough. It did not look as though there was some pressing emergency, and Lady Gwendoline was fine. If she’d met with some terrible disaster, Caspian knew he’d have heard of it.
“Why would you want to?” Noah asked. “The estate has flowers and grasses. Some trees. I’m quite certain that our estate also has them. Unless, of course, you’re hoping to vex Lady Gwendoline.”
They rode on, Caspian keeping his eyes ahead of them. It would do no good to keep lingering over the Newhost property. He hadn’t told Noah about the mystery he and Lady Gwendoline had uncovered, so of course, his brother didn’t understand just how much Lady Gwendoline and her family truly meant to him.
“I have not vexed Lady Gwendoline in quite some time,” Caspian replied. “I am endeavoring to be a better lord, a kinder one. It was wrong of me to provoke her to begin with.”
Noah nodded, accepting the excuse. “That is good of you, although it strikes me as strange. I hope you aren’t becoming boring, Brother.”
Caspian chuckled. “Oh, I’d never do something as awful as that.”
The rounded the bend, and Caspian saw his lake ahead. He dismounted his mare, leading her to her usual place. Noah followed his lead. Then, the two lords strode to the lakeside. Caspian picked up a pebble from the grass and tossed it, watching as it skipped along the surface of the pond, creating silvery ripples.
Caspian sighed and sank to the ground, curling his fingers into the grass. After a moment, Noah joined him. “I’m surprised you haven’t named this lake,” Noah said. “You come here so often.”
“That’s fair,” Caspian replied. “I do like this lake quite a lot.”
“I have never understood your love for places like this,” Noah replied. “I think they’re too quiet.”
“But it’s nice to have some quietness amidst all the bustle, especially during the Season.”
“I suppose.”
Caspian paused and considered his brother, trying to decide whether he ought to reveal everything. It was a gamble. Did Caspian dare tell anyone else knowing that he might draw someone else into the dangerous situation that he and Lady Gwendoline found themselves in now?
But surely, Lady Florence is involved, as well. I ought to keep a close watch on her, too. She might also need to be kept safe.
“Noah,” Caspian said, his voice serious. “I…I’m uncertain how to put something to words, but I feel as though I must tell you.”
Noah blinked a few times. His brow furrowed. “What is it?”
Where to begin?
“Did you notice anything odd that day you left the estate to do business? It was about three days ago.”
Noah frowned, appearing deep in thought. Then, he shrugged. “Not really,” he said. “Why do you ask?”
“I am…” Caspian trailed off. “If I tell you this, you must promise to tell no one. Not our parents, not anyone.”
“Oh,” Noah muttered. “Of course. I’d never betray your secrets. What is upsetting you so much?”
“I had begun a tentative friendship with Lady Gwendoline,” Caspian said.
Begin lightly and slowly. Maybe I don’t have to tell him everything, just enough.
Noah whistled between his teeth. “A friendship?” He laughed. “Is that your great secret?”
“You act as if it’s a small matter, becoming friends with the Newhost daughter.”
“I had wondered if there might be a girl involved,” Noah said, “But I thought you might be in love with Lady Florence and saying nothing because of your respect for James and his feelings toward her.”
“No. It was Lady Gwendoline. At least, I do not wish to be her enemy anymore.”
Caspian paused. He searched the grass for another rock to skip, and finding none, he plucked a piece of grass from the ground and gently tore it to pieces in his fingers.
Do I dare tell him anymore?
Maybe not. It was bad enough that he couldn’t keep from worrying about Lady Gwendoline’s safety, but it would be far worse if he also spent every waking moment thinking of his brother’s safety, also.
“That’s all,” Caspian said.
He felt like a coward.
“Well, we all have our secrets,” Noah replied.
“You don’t.”
“Who says I don’t? I have more secrets than you; I’d be willing to wager that.”
Caspian arched an eyebrow. Between the two of them, Noah had always been the honest one, the one who followed the rules and never did anything remotely wrong. “What are your secrets?” Caspian asked.
Noah’s lips stretched into a smirk. “They won’t be secrets if I share them with you. You know how it works, don’t you?”
Caspian could guess easily enough what it was. His brother likely had some secret sweetheart, some lady who’d caught his eye. That wasn’t surprising. There were so many young ladies, and they were always at their most beautiful during the Season, clad in their silk gowns, embellished with pearls, ribbons, and lace.
“I’ll coax it out of you soon enough,” Caspian said.
If there was one thing Caspian really was exceptionally gifted at, it was in making people reveal their secrets. Or at least, he was good at vexing people until they relented.
Noah grinned mischievously. “We’ll see, Brother. And perhaps, I’ll coax something more about this friendship from you.”
Caspian caught the implication in his brother’s words. “Just a friendship, I assure you. By happenstance, we have found one another at the market a couple of times.”
Not quite by happenstance, but Noah didn’t really need to know that.
“Of course. Happenstance.”
No, I can’t tell him all this.
How could Caspian bear to bring his beloved brother into this mess with some terrible person sending them threats? Maybe after Caspian learned who was threatening him, he could tell Noah everything, but that was impossible at the moment.
Caspian would think it over a little more. There had to be some solution. He just couldn’t see it yet. In the meantime, he just hoped Lady Gwendoline would be safe.
Chapter 23
When Lord Caspian did not send word of his whereabouts the day after the letter was thrown through her window, Gwendoline thought that—perhaps—he meant only to act as if the two of them were not friends. He only wanted to keep them both safe.
But after a few days passed, Gwendoline began to wonder if Lord Caspian had met with some terrible fate. The threat in the letter remained a constant fixture in Gwendoline’s thoughts.
Or you’ll both regret it.
Had the letter writer hurt Lord Caspian in some way? Gwendoline paused in her room. Although she slept in a guestroom, just down the hall from her father’s own bedroom, Gwendoline still went into her own room sometimes. Her wardrobe and desk were there.
She gazed at the place where her window once was. For now, the broken pane of glass was covered with a linen. As she stood there, Gwendoline felt as though the scene was happening again. She could imagine it in her mind’s eye. Gwendoline remembered staring wide-eyed at the window, and when she’d heard the door burst open behind her, she’d been filled with terror for just an instant. But then, she saw Caspian’s face.
She remembered his green eyes, so striking and so intense, and his hair disheveled from the ride to her estate. He’d looked so ruffled but so handsome. Gwendoline took in a deep breath and spun toward her door, like she had on that night. It was as if she hoped the Lord would reappear before her.
But of course, he won’t.
And Lord Caspian didn’t dare come by moonlight anymore, which would it all the more difficult for them to communicate with one another.
Maybe Lord Caspia
n simply hasn’t been able to communicate. Maybe there is nothing wrong at all.
If anyone would know, though, it would be Florence. And she was Gwendoline’s dearest friend. Already, Gwendoline had invited her friend to spend the evening together.
She’ll be here soon.
Gwendoline tried not to pace the floor, the lilac silk of her dress whistling with her every step. Perhaps, she ought to consider taking her friend into Lord Charles’s room. Maybe there was more to find.
But there are too many people about. We’d surely be caught, and I already don’t know who I can trust. Someone is watching Lord Caspian and me very closely.
No, searching her uncle’s bedroom again was too brazen, and Gwendoline could not chance having anyone suspect what she was looking for.
Gwendoline heard the faint rolling of carriage wheels and horses’ hooves. She hurried from her room and went quickly downstairs. Just as Gwendoline rounded to the entrance, the door opened, and Florence entered.
“Florrie!” Gwendoline exclaimed.
Florence grinned; her face was radiant. “Gwendoline!” she exclaimed.
The ladies embraced, and Gwendoline breathed in the delicate, floral scent of her friend’s perfume. “Welcome. It warms my heart to see you,” Gwendoline said.
“I feel the same,” Florence replied, and lowering her voice. “How are you doing?”
“I’m doing fine,” Gwendoline whispered, taking her friend’s arm.
As Gwendoline steered her friend toward the parlor, she leaned her head in close. And Florence tilted her head toward Gwendoline, so when they walked, their heads were nearly touching.
“I have not heard from Lord Caspian in a few days now, and I fear for him,” Gwendoline confessed. “I worry so badly that I can scarcely sleep. My mind races so frantically that I can scarcely focus on anything save for Lord Caspian. I was so distraught that I considered taking my horse and racing to his estate.”
“But you can’t because it would draw too much attention, especially from your letter writer.”
“Exactly.”
The ladies entered the parlor and sat beside one another on an elegant, tapestry-backed loveseat.
“I think…I just…I know I should not worry so much,” Gwendoline said. “He is strong and valiant, and I know he’s capable of looking after himself. But I—”
“You care about him. More than you care about yourself.”
Gwendoline started. For a moment, she looked like a startled rabbit. “What?”
“You worry about his safety and not about your own, despite Lord Caspian being an exceptionally gifted swordsman and a good marksman,” Florence replied. “Between the two of you, he is far less likely to fail in the face of danger than you are. He knows better how to counter it.”
She’s right. I do care more about his safety than mine. But why?
Gwendoline let her gaze drift across the parlor. “I…I suppose you’re right,” she murmured, “Although I can’t tell you why I care so much. Why I fear so much for him. Perhaps, it is because I have never experienced something like this before.”
“Like what?”
“Like danger.”
But Gwendoline’s heart trembled as she said it. While it was true that she’d never faced danger before, she suspected that her feelings for Lord Caspian had fare less to do with nature and more to do with his own disposition, and when she thought of even the least bit of harm befalling the young lord, Gwendoline’s chest ached.
“I think I like him,” she said slowly.
Florence didn’t look surprised. “Like him?”
Gwendoline pursed her lips together. She felt as though Florence was trying to lead her somewhere with the questions and answers. “What do you mean?”
Florence sighed, a look of infinite patience crossing her face. “If I were to venture a guess, I’d say you’re well on your way to loving him.”
Gwendoline swallowed. “Loving him?” she breathed.
Surely, she had heard Florence incorrectly. It was utterly impossible for her to love Lord Caspian.
“Yes.”
Gwendoline stared at her friend, waiting for Florence to laugh and reveal she’d made the comment in jest. But Florence’s face never wavered. She was being entirely serious, and she truly believed that Gwendoline loved Lord Caspian.
“I don’t know if it’s love.”
“Do you know that it isn’t?”
Maybe it was love. Gwendoline fidgeted with her dress. Love. The thought was so large and so foreign. Oh, Gwendoline knew about love, of course. She’d read all the poems and novels about it. Gwendoline knew all about brave, beautiful heroines falling in love with noble knights or seemingly cold gentlemen, who always grew into better men.
But never in her life had Gwendoline ever felt the pricks of love at her heart. She’d noticed that men were attractive before. Many men, actually. Gwendoline had never desired them, though.
Maybe it is love because I have never felt this way about any other man before. Maybe Florence is right. If I didn’t love him in the beginning, I may have grown to love him.
“Don’t worry,” Florence said. “I’ll go to him at once and learn what has become of him. Fear not, Gwendoline.”
“Thank you.”
Florence squeezed her hands. “I’ll be away a few hours at most.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
And Gwendoline would, even though she suspected these would be the longest few hours of her life.
* * *
Gwendoline occupied her time by sketching. It was a simple task and one that she barely had to think about. Simply lines on paper. She slowly sketched the lines of a face, which grew steadily to resemble Lord Caspian. Later, she would have to hide this; if anyone saw it, questions would be raised about why the daughter of Lord Newhost found the son of Lord Elderdale so worthy of her attention and detail, of all those little lines.
He is probably fine. I’m certain he is fine. My fears are likely just getting the best of me. When Florence returns, I will feel dreadfully foolish for fretting so.
Gwendoline traced a thumb over the line of Lord Caspian’s cheekbone. A fluttering spread from her belly and into her chest.
Why is he so handsome?
And not just handsome. Lord Caspian was far more than that. He had an unrivaled determination and a brilliant dash of romance that any lady would have been enchanted by.
Whoever marries you will be a lucky woman.
The thought sent a sharp pang through Gwendoline. Perhaps, Florence was right. Maybe Gwendoline truly did love him, and that was why it hurt when she imagined another lady loving him and wedding him.
But we could never marry. It seems as we’re even further apart now than we were before we tried to discover the truth of the feud between our families.
Gwendoline felt quite foolish for thinking about love, but it seemed as if her thoughts of Lord Caspian, of all her fear and affection, had blended together in some strange and powerful force that she scarcely understood it. She had not realized that any person could feel so much all at once, and the strength of her feelings nearly took her breath away from her.
I wish that my mother had come to London with us. She might be able to advise me, but then, I would need to tell her who I have fallen in love with. And I can’t do that. No matter how I love him, I can’t tell anyone.
This must have been precisely how her own uncle Lord Charles felt about Lady Helena. Wonderful and awful at the same time, always longing for what he wanted and only able to have it at night.
And we still don’t know what happened to them.
Her portrait completed, Gwendoline closed her sketchbook and placed it upon the nearby table. She strode to the window and pulled aside the curtains, letting the beam of light fall upon her and warm her face. Gwendoline gazed across the manor grounds and out to the streets.
Several couples passed in the distance, all of them so carefree. Gwendoline felt a wave of longing wash over her
. While she adored the romance and mystery of meeting Caspian by night, a part of Gwendoline now longed to walk with him in the daylight, where everyone could see.
But I never can.
At the sight of a familiar carriage rolling toward the manor, Gwendoline rushed from the window. She flew to the manor entrance, startling the young maid who’d intended to open the door. In a single, swift motion, Gwendoline threw open the door and waited.
The Earl That Overruled My Destiny Page 21
