by Laura Martin
‘That’s very kind.’
‘I hope you will understand then why I am worried about you.’
Bertie tugged on the lead, but James barely registered. Lady Yaxley’s expression was entirely serious, her forehead creased into a frown and her eyes troubled.
‘I’m sure you’re aware of Caroline’s new resolve to find herself a husband.’
He murmured something indecipherable, waiting for Lady Yaxley to continue, to show where she was going with this.
‘She is getting older and I think she realised she wanted a family, and a husband to share her life with. Even if it meant eschewing the idea of marrying for love.’ Lady Yaxley patted his hand and he wondered how much she knew. She was an astute woman and Caroline had always said it was hard to keep anything from her mother.
‘It is an understandable sentiment,’ James said quietly.
‘One that I am led to believe you don’t share?’
He cleared his throat. He wasn’t used to discussing affairs of the heart, even theoretical ones, with anyone, let alone the mother of the woman he was rather messily entangled with.
Lady Yaxley paused, waiting for him to turn and meet her eye. ‘Caroline tells me your parents were blessed to fall in love at first sight, to know immediately they were destined to be together.’
‘They were very happy together.’
‘I’m sure they were. Just as Lord Yaxley and I are very happy together. Our marriage was arranged and, when I first met Lord Yaxley, I could hardly stand to be in the same room as him.’ She smiled, a smile filled with genuine warmth. ‘He grew on me over time and now I would be lost without him. He’s my constant, my partner, my love.’
James didn’t know Lord Yaxley as well as his wife as the older man didn’t often come to London for the whole Season, preferring the quiet of the estate in Hampshire, but on the occasions that he’d met him he’d been pleasant and warm in manner. He’d always thought Lord and Lady Yaxley well suited.
‘There’s a lot of different sorts of love in the world, Your Grace. The slow-building, slow-burning kind and the lightning strike of instant infatuation. Both are equally valid and I would hate to think of you missing out on love because you were holding out for just one specific type, when another could be even more rewarding.’
He opened his mouth to reply, to say something, but no sound came out. Lady Yaxley was looking at him with a sadness in her eyes that cut into him. He believed she really did want him to be happy, to find love.
Bertie barked, pulling on the lead, and even with his strength James was tugged forward. He took a couple of steps, glad of the distraction. Of course he wanted love, he wanted it more than most men he met. Most were perfectly content with marrying a woman they barely knew for money or advantage or because they thought she would make an adequate wife. He actually wanted love, wanted that heart-clenching, head-spinning emotion his parents had talked of.
‘I don’t want you to be lonely when Caroline is gone,’ Lady Yaxley said as she caught up with him. ‘Things will change, of course they will. I’m sure you and Caroline will still be close, but she will have a husband, eventually a family. I like to think perhaps the same would suit you.’
‘I’m certainly not against the idea of settling down.’
‘You’re just waiting for the right person.’ Lady Yaxley suppressed a sigh. It was refreshing to have someone talk to him so openly and honestly even if it was a little uncomfortable. Caroline did, but most others were too aware of his status and his influence to tell him what they really thought. ‘Lord Hauxton has proposed to Caroline,’ she said, changing the direction of the conversation.
He felt Bertie’s lead slipping through his fingers and only his quick reflexes saved him from having to chase the lively dog into the Serpentine.
‘That’s good,’ he said, his voice betraying the lie. Even to his own ears it sounded forced and untrue.
‘She hasn’t accepted yet. Apparently he told her to take a few days to consider things, was quite insistent. I suppose he wants to make sure she is completely decided.’
It seemed as though his own proposal hadn’t been discussed with Lady Yaxley.
‘Lord Hauxton is a good man.’
‘So I am told.’
‘You think she will accept?’
Lady Yaxley didn’t look at him as she answered, instead inspecting the flecks of mud on her boots. ‘Unless someone else proposes then I should imagine she will. As you say, Lord Hauxton is a good man, he will make a decent husband.’ The rest of the sentence hung between them unsaid, but James knew Lady Yaxley was implying that he would make a better one. If only she knew. ‘We are going to the Wellingtons’ house party in Suffolk tomorrow, I understand Lord Hauxton has obtained an invitation. She will probably give him her answer then.’
James felt a weight settle upon his shoulders. He didn’t want her to marry Milton and he hated how selfish that made him.
‘I’m sure the Wellingtons would be delighted to have you in attendance. You are a duke and that matters to most people. I could let it slip to Mrs Wellington that you would like an invitation.’
It would be foolish to go. He should stay away from Caroline, just as she had asked, let her make her decision about her future without any further interference from him.
‘Caroline asked for a little space when I saw her last.’
‘Sometimes we ask for what we think we want, rather than what we need. I’ll send you a little note once I’ve contacted Mrs Wellington.’
James couldn’t bring himself to say no. He knew nothing could change between him and Caroline, but perhaps if he could see her one last time before she became engaged they would both be able to convince themselves they were doing the right thing.
‘Good, that’s settled then. I should be getting Bertie back home, but I hope I will see you tomorrow.’
Watching her as she strolled along the path, James wondered what exactly she hoped to achieve by pushing him into Caroline’s orbit once again.
* * *
Knocking on the door, he waited, listening for the sounds of movement inside. It took a minute, but soon the door was inching open, a small pale face looking out.
‘Good afternoon, sir.’ The maid looked relieved to see him standing on the door and James wondered if he’d scared the young woman with his insistence that no one else be admitted.
‘How is he?’ He stepped inside, handing over his coat.
‘He seems well, sir.’
James walked through the hall and pushed open the door to the small room beyond, letting his eyes adjust to the gloom before he ventured inside.
‘I didn’t expect you to visit again so soon,’ West said, his voice clear and crisp. It was a relief not to hear the words slurred by the effects of alcohol.
‘We’re worried about you.’
James hadn’t spoken to Milton in the last couple of days, he’d been avoiding him since the Deveauxs’ ball, but he knew Milton was worried about their friend, too.
West murmured something quietly, then stood to greet him. As James shook his hand he let his eyes flicker over his friend. The day’s worth of stubble had been shaved off and his hair washed and combed into neat waves. He was fully dressed, even wearing a perfectly tied cravat. Everything from his posture and clothes down to the look in his eyes had improved over the last few days.
‘I think the time for worrying is almost over,’ West spoke quietly. ‘Although I do appreciate your concern, especially after...’
After the duel, or the threat of one. For a moment James had been livid with his friend, livid for the insult to Caroline, livid for putting lives at risk, livid for not being the man he thought he was. Then he had paused, looked deeper, seen the pain and hurt that had driven the change in West and realised his friend needed help, not recriminations.
James sat down in t
he empty armchair by the fire and stretched out his legs. It was cold and damp outside today, the sky grey and the streets slippery with fallen leaves. A respite in the warmth was welcome and he felt himself relax a little as the heat from the fire began to thaw his cold extremities.
‘Have you decided what you’re going to do?’
West shook his head, but James noted he didn’t look anywhere near as desolate as he had when he’d asked him that question a few days ago.
‘The way I see it I’ve got two options: either I give Emma an ultimatum, tell her she isn’t seeing that man again, or I decide I don’t wish to have a wife who loves another man.’
‘Divorce?’
West grimaced. Even in extreme cases divorce was unpalatable. ‘Separation. She can live in the country and I will stay in town.’ James heard the catch in his friend’s voice and remembered his drunken words. West loved his wife, even now after finding out she had been conducting an affair for much of their short marriage. It would be hard for him to push her away with any finality.
‘Does she know you know?’
‘No. At least I don’t think so.’
It was hard to give any advice. James had never been married, let alone to a wife who was then having an affair. It was the greatest of betrayals, but he wondered if his friend could ever truly be happy again if he hadn’t at least tried one last time with his wife.
‘Perhaps you owe it to yourself to sit down with Emma and at least try to see if there is a solution.’
Silently West nodded, then clapped his hands together.
‘Enough about my depressing woes. Tell me how your little love triangle fares.’
James raised an eyebrow. ‘Love triangle?’
‘You, Miss Yaxley and Milton.’ He counted them off on his fingers as he spoke.
‘Hardly a love triangle.’
West just looked at him as if waiting for him to accept the truth.
‘I ran into Lady Yaxley on my walk in Hyde Park. She tells me Milton has proposed to Caroline.’ He tried to say it nonchalantly, as if it were merely a piece of news he was passing on, but he could hear the edge in his voice, feel the stab of regret in his stomach.
‘And you’re here with me and not with her?’
‘It’s her decision to make.’
West looked at him for a long moment, shaking his head. ‘You do know the girl is head over heels in love with you. She has been for years.’
James didn’t answer. He knew there was something there between him and Caroline, but he still couldn’t quite believe she’d been in love with him for all that time and never let anything slip.
‘You’re forty-one, Heydon, hardly a young man. You’ve been waiting for the perfect woman for twenty years—why not settle down with someone who will make you happy instead of looking for someone who might not exist?’
‘It wouldn’t be fair on Caroline.’
‘Nonsense. She’d be married to the man she loves and you would be married to a good woman. What is more fair than that?’
He closed his eyes, wondering if he should confess that he had asked Caroline to marry him. Poorly, it had to be said, as an afterthought to the kiss and the desire that coursed through him. It was hardly surprising she had refused, it hadn’t been a large romantic gesture.
‘I asked her,’ he admitted.
West sat staring at him for a minute and then let out a low laugh. ‘And she refused?’
‘It was not how I imagined proposing to a woman. It was hurried, rushed.’
‘After some indiscretion?’
James stayed silent.
‘No wonder she refused. No woman wants to be proposed to purely out of a sense of duty. Especially a woman who has other options available to her.’
‘I should just leave her and Milton to it,’ James said.
‘That’s going to be hard, seeing them together at social occasions, watching their wedded bliss at dinner parties and the like. Your friend and the woman you care for most in the world.’ West’s words were spoken quietly, but had a certain sting in them. James studied his friend and saw genuine concern in his eyes. He was pushing him to try to get James to act before he allowed something he would regret to pass.
‘Perhaps I’ll move abroad. Permanently.’ Of course he wouldn’t, no matter how appealing the idea of travelling without worrying about his responsibilities. He was a duke and with that came his estates and land to manage, tenants to oversee and his duties as a peer of the realm. These past few years he had managed to get away with frequent trips abroad, but he had still spent at least half of the last five years in England and that was how it had to be. There would be no moving abroad, no running away.
‘Listen to yourself. You’re thinking of moving abroad to save yourself from having to see Miss Yaxley married to another man. Surely that tells you all you need to know.’
Standing, James walked over to the fire, holding his hands out to warm his fingers, turning his face away from West to give him a moment to think. Everything his friend was saying was true. It would be hard to see Caroline married to someone else and the fact that her intended husband was one of James’s friends would make it even harder. Every social occasion they would be thrown together and he would be reminded of what he could have had. And he was sure it wasn’t acceptable to desire your friend’s wife in the way he desired Caroline.
‘I’ll speak to her,’ he said, still not knowing what he would say.
‘Good.’ West stood and joined him in front of the fire. ‘Now I’m planning on moving back home later today, I think I’ve had enough time to contemplate my options.’ He held his hand out and waited for James to take it. ‘Thank you. You’ve been a much better friend than I deserve. A lesser man would have left me on Hampstead Heath with a hole in my chest.’
‘The room will always be here if you need it,’ James said. It was in one of the many properties he owned in London, with the upstairs rented to single gentlemen and the downstairs standing empty for a few months. It wouldn’t be difficult to keep it free for his friend for a few more weeks in case he needed a sanctuary.
‘Thank you,’ West repeated. ‘If I can ever repay the favour, I’d like the chance.’
James clapped his friend on the back before leaving, glad that at least one complication in his life was sorting itself out. Without West to worry about he could focus on deciding what to do about Caroline. The Wellingtons’ house party would be a good place to start.
Chapter Seventeen
Staring morosely out of the carriage window, Caroline tried to give herself a talking to. Tomorrow evening was the masquerade ball at the Wellingtons’. It was the deadline she had set herself for accepting Lord Hauxton’s proposal. In thirty-six hours she would be an engaged woman. That was something to celebrate. If only her rebellious heart could understand that.
‘It’s beautiful weather for a house party,’ Lady Yaxley said, smiling much more cheerfully than should be allowed after so long in a carriage.
She wasn’t wrong, it was cold and crisp, with the winter sun shining bright on the frost still clinging to the grass. Caroline wouldn’t be surprised if they had snow in the next couple of days and felt herself buoyed by the thought. She loved snow, loved it when the ponds froze over and you could skate and throw snowballs and eventually retreat inside to warm up with a big cup of hot chocolate.
The carriage swayed as they rounded a bend in the drive and through the window Caroline could see the façade of the Wellingtons’ country house. It was stark and imposing, much larger than Rosling Manor where she’d grown up, its frontage all grey stone and gargoyles.
Mrs Wellington bustled out as she saw the carriage approach, accompanied by her two daughters, Beatrice and Bridget. Beatrice was a few years younger than Caroline, having made her debut into society two years ago. Bridget was still in the schoolroom, an excitable gir
l of thirteen who looked eager to be included in the festivities.
‘Lady Yaxley, Miss Yaxley, so delighted you could make it,’ Mrs Wellington said, embracing Caroline’s mother and then squeezing Caroline’s hand. ‘I hope your journey wasn’t too arduous.’
‘It was a lovely little respite from the hustle and bustle of the city,’ Lady Yaxley said. She and Mrs Wellington had known each other for years, having made their debuts together over two decades ago.
‘Come inside, I’ll show you to your rooms. We have tea and cakes being served in a few minutes and then dinner will be at eight with drinks in the drawing room beforehand.’
Beatrice slipped her arm through Caroline’s as they walked inside. Although they had never been particularly close, probably due to the age difference, Beatrice was a sweet girl and Caroline always enjoyed spending time with her.
‘Tell me not to pry, but everyone has been talking about your proposals.’
Great. The news had even reached as far as Suffolk. Caroline tried not to grimace. Of course she was overreacting—the Wellingtons would have been in London until yesterday and she knew everyone was talking about her in London.
‘Have you accepted anyone yet?’
‘I’m considering my options,’ Caroline said, hoping to remain as vague as possible. Really she didn’t have any options. James’s proposition had been born from duty, Lord Hauxton’s proposal was the only genuine one. She would accept him, of course she would. Tomorrow night.
‘It is so thrilling, to have multiple gentlemen propose. And to have them both here for our little party. I couldn’t believe it when Mother told me.’
Caroline stopped walking, turning to face Beatrice. ‘Both?’ She tried to keep the note of panic from her voice.
‘Yes, Lord Hauxton confirmed a week ago, but the Duke of Heydon penned Mother a very nice note to say he would love to attend just before we left London.’
‘No.’
