by Laura Martin
They took another lap around the garden in silence, James glancing back over his shoulder every few seconds to check if Caroline had emerged.
‘How about you, Your Grace? Have any young ladies caught your attention this Season?’
James thought of Caroline, of his reaction to her and the inappropriate thoughts that kept swirling in his mind.
‘No.’
‘Lady Whittaker told me you are close with her daughter.’
James shuddered. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to get trapped by the Preston family into an arrangement he really did not want.
‘I’m not a great admirer of Miss Preston,’ he said slowly. ‘But she is proving rather tenacious.’
‘Caroline doesn’t like her,’ Lady Yaxley confided. ‘She hasn’t said, but I get the impression she’s been on the receiving end of a couple of catty remarks.’
He grimaced, remembering he still hadn’t asked Caroline to accompany him to the Prestons’ house for dinner. She wouldn’t thank him for the invitation.
At that moment Caroline appeared on the grass, stepping out through the glass doors from the morning room. She looked flushed, but not distressed, and James immediately knew it had unfolded just as Lady Yaxley had predicted. He felt some of the tension seep from his body and he smiled the first genuine smile to cross his lips all day.
‘He proposed,’ Caroline said as he crossed the small patch of grass towards her. ‘I told him I would consider his proposal.’
‘You must consider carefully. Take a few days, but don’t keep him waiting too long.’
‘I will, Mama.’ Caroline linked her arm through James’s and together they began to stroll across the grass, neither saying anything until Lady Yaxley had gone back inside.
‘Two days ago you announce your intention to marry and today you received your first proposal,’ James said with a half-smile. ‘You must have an excellent teacher.’
‘He is adequate, I suppose. Although he can’t claim any glory for this proposal. I haven’t conversed with Lord Mottringham since we started my lessons.’ She glanced back over her shoulder to where her mother was hovering by the door. ‘Do you have time to go for a stroll? I feel restless, and Bertie will be better behaved if you come, too.’
They collected Bertie from his comfortable bed downstairs before heading out. They’d just stepped out of the door when Henrietta came hurrying up the steps, her mother still halfway down the street.
‘Good,’ Henrietta said. ‘Play along.’
Beside him he felt Caroline stiffen with surprise, but noted she obliged without question as Mrs Harvey came up the steps.
‘Caroline has asked me to accompany her and the Duke on a little walk,’ Henrietta said, breezing back past her mother. ‘We may be a while. It’s such a glorious day.’
* * *
‘Thank you,’ Henrietta said as they rounded the corner out of sight of the house. ‘I thought I was never going to shake her off.’
‘Your mother?’ Caroline was incredulous.
‘I know, I know, I’m terrible.’ Henrietta looked over her shoulder to check no one could see, then planted a kiss on Caroline’s cheek and began to hurry away. ‘When you get home, tell Mama I had a headache and I’ve returned home to rest.’ With that Henrietta was dashing off along the pavement, leaving Caroline stunned and Bertie barking at her departure.
‘That was unusual,’ James murmured next to her. ‘I wonder where she’s going in such a hurry.’
‘It can’t be anywhere reputable.’ Caroline felt as though her stomach were sinking inside her. She thought of all the times she had asked Henrietta to lie for her, to pretend they were together when Caroline wished to spend time alone, or, more recently, with James. She hadn’t thought to ask where Henrietta was going, what she was doing with her freedom. She’d always ensured Henrietta had her maid with her, but perhaps she should have been doing more. ‘Come on.’ She gripped James’s arm and pulled him along next to her, following in Henrietta’s footsteps.
‘We’re following her?’
‘Yes. I need to see where she’s going. What I’ve been helping her get away with.’
‘She’s probably just off to meet a young gentleman she has an affection for.’ James’s voice was too reasonable for this situation. She wanted panic and indignation.
‘That’s what I’m worried about,’ Caroline retorted.
All of a sudden James swept her against the railings, his body brushing up against hers as he spun around. Despite the very public location Caroline felt a rush of desire as he stepped in closer, but as quickly as he’d pressed her against the railings he’d stepped away, leaving her feeling bereft and shaken at the same time.
‘She didn’t see us,’ James said as they started along the pavement again. He was walking fast, his head down, but eyes searching keenly for Henrietta and any clue as to where she might be going.
This was one of the reasons Caroline loved him so much. He jumped into any situation with her without complaint, trusting her judgement, helping her where others might hesitate or distance themselves.
‘Where is she going?’
Henrietta was heading out of Mayfair to the less salubrious area to the north-west. To Caroline’s knowledge she had no friends or acquaintances in Paddington and there was no good reason for Henrietta to be walking in that direction.
They followed her across a couple of roads, dodging the carriages and horses, then had to pull up abruptly as they rounded a corner and she was only a few feet away from them, standing in front of a door as if waiting to be let in.
From the position they were standing in Caroline couldn’t get a glimpse of whoever opened the door, all she saw was the swish of Henrietta’s skirts as she swept inside.
‘What now?’
Caroline considered. She knew they should leave Henrietta to her secrets, but she felt responsible for her cousin, knowing she had been too caught up in her own dilemmas to realise her cousin was creeping off to a liaison of her own.
‘We have to get a look inside.’
‘Just stop and think about this for a moment, Cara.’ He turned her to face him and for a moment she forgot where they were or what they were doing there. ‘Do you really want to go barrelling into an unknown situation? Perhaps in this case ignorance is the best outcome.’
She shook her head. If Henrietta was meeting someone unsuitable, at least she would know. That way she would be able to discuss it rationally with her cousin and hopefully make her see the danger in what she was doing.
‘I need to do this.’ She took a step and immediately James was at her side. She had never doubted he would accompany her. He might caution or counsel her against her actions, but even when she went against his advice he never abandoned her. Quickly they went around the corner and tied Bertie up out of sight, Caroline crouching down and promising the lively dog that they would be back soon.
They walked arm in arm to the door Henrietta had disappeared through a few minutes earlier. Caroline raised her hand to knock, but as her fist met the wood the door creaked open a few inches, revealing a darkened hallway beyond.
Caroline looked at James and he shrugged, pushing the door open wider. There was no one in sight, no one to stop them slipping into the hallway and pulling the front door closed behind them.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, but when they did she blinked in amazement. The dark hallway was dusty and had an air of genteel neglect, with a thin layer of dust on the few pieces of furniture, but the walls were covered from floor to ceiling in paintings and drawings in all different styles. There were large canvases in expensive-looking frames showing beautifully painted landscapes next to small but intricate charcoal drawings of people and animals.
‘What is this place?’ Caroline whispered, aware of every noise in these unfamiliar surroundings.
James stepped forward, motioning for her to stay where she was. Silently he padded down the hall, pausing by a half-open door and peering inside. When he was satisfied there was no one in the room he motioned for her to come join him.
They stepped inside and Caroline looked around in confusion. Set up on one side of the room was a large easel surrounded by a palette and paintbrushes and facing it a chaise longue.
‘I don’t understand...’ she whispered. It looked like an artist’s studio, somewhere set up for artists to come and paint, bringing their models to lounge on the sofa while they captured their likeness.
As the only plausible explanation came to her Caroline felt her hand shoot to her mouth.
‘No.’ She wasn’t easily scandalised, she didn’t think the rules that governed society were particularly sensible. Too many things were seen as scandalous in her opinion, but this was difficult to accept. Henrietta posing for some artist, some man, could ruin her completely.
‘There might be another explanation,’ James said quietly, taking her hand in a reassuring manner.
‘What?’
‘Perhaps she is visiting a friend. Or perhaps the whole residence isn’t artists’ studios.’
‘We need to find her. To see for sure.’ Caroline had picture after picture racing through her mind of Henrietta lounging back on a couch such as this, perhaps semi-clothed, modelling for some handsome and charming young artist. Even if she was fully clothed, with buttons all the way up to her chin, it was still hardly a reputable place for an unmarried young woman to be spending her time.
‘We’ll probably be caught. Then Henrietta will know you followed her.’
‘I don’t care. I need to do this.’ She had to see exactly what was going on, only then could she confront her cousin and try to make her see how foolish she was being.
James looked at her for ten seconds, as if assessing how serious she was, then his lips transformed into a rueful smile. ‘If we get caught and handed over to the magistrates for trespassing, then I reserve the right to use your stubbornness as my defence.’
‘I’m not stubborn. Just forceful.’
He motioned for her to fall in step behind him and together they crept out of the room and back into the hallway. One by one they checked the downstairs rooms, most of which were set up in the same configuration as the one they’d been inside.
‘She’s got to be upstairs,’ Caroline whispered, setting one foot on the bottom step and wincing as it creaked loudly. They both stiffened, listening for sounds of movement above them, but all remained quiet.
Carefully they made their way up the old staircase, pausing whenever there was a particularly loud creak from the ancient wood. At the top was a narrow landing with four doors leading off, all slightly ajar. Caroline peeked inside the first door, withdrawing quickly as she saw the old woman who’d answered the door to Henrietta sitting inside, rocking backwards and forward in a rocking chair and humming as her knitting needles clicked together rhythmically.
The next two rooms were empty, both with easels and various pieces of furniture that Caroline supposed could be used as props.
‘Last one,’ James murmured as they approached the final door.
Caroline knew she had to be the one to look inside, knew it had to be her and not James, but even so she hesitated. It still wasn’t too late to walk out the front door and leave Henrietta to her secrets.
‘Better me than someone else,’ she whispered to herself, resting her hand on the wood of the door and pushing it open just a fraction.
Caroline’s eyes swept over the room. There was an easel and paints, the same style of chaise—this one with a woman reclining on it. And the artist standing in front of the canvas, back to the door.
For a moment she couldn’t move, it took too much of her to try to understand what she was seeing. There was a woman reclining on the chaise longue, dress slipping off her shoulder in a scandalous fashion, but it wasn’t Henrietta. Henrietta was standing in front of the canvas, palette in hand, painting in bold, confident strokes.
Backing away, Caroline knew this wasn’t how she wanted her cousin to have to tell her about her art. She wanted to be out of here, far away, to have time to gather her thoughts and then she could gently probe Henrietta.
‘We need to leave,’ Caroline said quietly, gripping James by the hand. As they started for the stairs there was a noise from the first room, the one that the old woman had been sitting and knitting in. Before Caroline knew what was happening James had whisked her into one of the other empty rooms, pulling the door closed behind them. Quickly he guided her behind a folding screen, probably in the room for the models to get changed behind, but providing a little welcome cover for their hiding place. Hanging up behind the screen were a few dresses, silky and sumptuous, and Caroline supposed they must be for the models to wear while they were sitting for the artists.
He pressed a finger against his lips and together they listened for the sounds outside the door. Caroline was acutely aware of how he had pressed her up against the screen, his body hard against hers. She could smell his cologne, that sweet mixture of lavender and citrus that made her want to bury her face in his shoulder and pull him even closer. As usual he seemed completely unperturbed by their closeness, not even noticing when his hand brushed against her breast as he manoeuvred himself into a better position.
‘Times up,’ the old woman said, her voice muffled by the wall in between the two rooms.
Henrietta’s voice was softer, harder to make out, but from what Caroline could hear she thought her cousin was protesting.
‘Not my fault you were forty minutes late. You had the room until five o’clock. It’s five o’clock now. I’ll store away your canvas and have it ready for you at the same time next week. I suggest next week you are on time.’
A few minutes of rustling and scraping next door followed and then the sound of retreating footsteps.
‘Shall we try to creep out?’
James shook his head, motioning for her to stay silent for just a few minutes longer. Caroline felt him stiffen as the door to their room opened and there was the sound of footsteps heading inside.
She glanced up, taking in his serious expression, his strong jaw and his dark eyes, and had the overwhelming urge to raise up on her tiptoes and kiss him. The urge was only there for a second, but it was almost enough. She felt herself moving up towards him, her body brushing against his, sending exquisite jolts of pleasure across her skin.
She caught herself as he looked at her, meeting her eyes with his own, and for a moment Caroline fancied she saw something akin to desire flare in him, but knew she was only imagining it.
The footsteps receded and the door closed and Caroline was just about to exhale in relief when she heard a key turn in the lock. With panic in her eyes she looked up at James, but he’d stepped away, turning so she couldn’t see his face.
‘We’re locked in.’
He put a finger to his lips, waiting for another minute before speaking. ‘It would seem so.’
‘Don’t sound so calm.’
‘There’s really no point in panicking.’
‘Of course there’s a point in panicking,’ Caroline said, crossing her arms and stepping away.
‘And that would be...?’
‘It makes me feel better.’
James laughed, a low, throaty laugh that cut right through her, making her momentarily forget their predicament. He took a couple of steps closer to the window, pressing himself against the wall before looking out to the street below.
‘I’m not sure if this makes it better or worse,’ he said.
‘What?’
‘The old woman has left. Locking the front door behind her.’
Caroline groaned. Now they were trapped behind two locked doors with no hope of escape.
‘How could it make it
better?’
‘At least we won’t be discovered.’
‘I think I want to be discovered. Just think of the scandal if I’m missing all night. My mother will be so worried, she’ll wake all of London trying to find me.’ It wasn’t an exaggeration. If Caroline failed to come home, her mother would initially remain calm, but as the hours passed and there was no word from either her or James then she would raise the alarm and refuse to let anyone rest until they were found.
‘I’m sure it won’t be that bad.’
She levelled him with a look that told him he should know better.
‘There might be some other scandal to entertain the ton in the coming few weeks.’
‘More salacious than me and you trapped in an artist’s studio in Paddington all night together?’
‘Perhaps not.’
Caroline sank to the floor, feeling desperation wash over her. Finally she had decided to marry, to move on with her life, to find a husband and hopefully start a family. She even had a few gentlemen who seemed interested in doing just that and now they would be scared off by this terrible incident.
A fat tear rolled down her cheek followed by another and another. James sank down to the floor next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
‘Don’t cry,’ he said softly, reaching up and wiping the tears away. It was an intimate gesture, one more suited to a husband or a lover than a friend and Caroline felt the familiar ache in her heart as she imagined what life could be like if he just loved her in a different way.
He kissed her on the top of her head, stroking her hair, his body leaning against hers.
‘I won’t let them ruin you.’
Caroline sniffed, trying to stem the flow of tears.
‘I don’t think even your influence could keep all the gossips in London quiet.’
‘If the worst happens, then we’ll just have to marry.’ He said it nonchalantly, completely unaware of how his casual words ripped at her heart.
Slowly she straightened up. She knew she should keep her mouth shut otherwise she might say something she would regret, something that might reveal her true feelings.
