“Yes, Mama,” Caroline admitted reluctantly.
She smiled at her father. He sat behind his desk. She sat on one of the chairs in front of him and clenched her hands tightly in her lap. She’d learned it was best to be silent and let her parents speak first.
“Anyone glancing at you would think you were brought up to be a refined young lady until they noticed the dusty hair and soiled clothes,” Mama said. “You appear to have wallowed in the dirt.”
“The boy I tried to rescue was frightened and threw himself against me.” Caroline tried to keep her irritation from creeping into her voice. “I could hardly push him away.”
“You would not have been in that predicament if you’d passed by and ignored the situation as other proper ladies do.”
“How can you say such a thing, Mother? Surely you wouldn’t want me to be so uncaring.”
“I want you to behave as a proper lady. People are beginning to speak of you as a troublemaker. I shudder to think who may have seen you today in such an outrageous position. To have drawn the attentions of a crowd!” Her mother’s voice rose, and she shook her head in dismay. “Is it any wonder no suitor has offered for you since your first year out?”
“Caroline, dear.” Her father spoke up. His deep tones were much warmer than her mother’s. “I am running out of positions for the children and women you have brought home from the streets. I suppose you brought the chimney boy with you today.”
“No, Papa.”
“That’s a relief.” Her mother put her hand over her heart.
“I would have,” Caroline added. “If this man hadn’t interfered.”
“What man?” Lady Halsford’s eyes widened.
Caroline had made a big mistake. In Lady Monroe’s rush to tell her parents about the incident, she must have left before the man stepped forward.
“What man?” Her mother repeated the question, a look of horror in her eyes.
“A gentleman came to my side, to help me. He paid for the child and took him into his care.” Caroline decided it was best not to mention she’d hit the sweeper. From her mother’s expression, she feared she might have a fit of apoplexy.
“Say something, James. Tell your daughter she can’t continue to behave in this manner. She obviously doesn’t listen to me.”
Lord Halsford smiled at Caroline and shook his head. “What are we to do with you, my dear? You should be married and have your own children, instead of collecting them off the streets. At twenty-one you will soon be considered on the shelf, if not by some already.”
“There will always be a man who wants to marry me for my dowry and the money I will inherit from Grandmamma when I’m twenty-five. Besides, Papa, I don’t want a husband.”
“Whether you want one or not, marriage is the only choice for well-bred young ladies,” her mother said. “Only widows are allowed the right to manage their own affairs. And they are encouraged to remarry.”
Caroline had heard similar lectures. Lately her parents had become more insistent. They were obviously out of patience. She chewed on the edge of her lower lip.
“Mother, you know most of the available young men are much fonder of their horses, gambling, and going to races than on finding a wife. Not one has any real interest until their family insists,” Caroline said, and ignored the tension growing in the room. “Wives are necessary for one main purpose, to produce an heir. Oh, and keep the home running smoothly. I refuse to be treated in such a cavalier manner.”
She seemed unable to stop herself from talking. Her anger and frustration had worn away her usual restraints. Taking a deep breath, she added, “I actually overheard several of the men who had been courting me talk about my good deeds. One of them remarked that I needed a husband and babies to keep me busy, and then I wouldn’t have time for such foolishness.” She stopped and sat back in her chair from where she had leaned forward to make her point. Silence followed her outpouring.
“I’m sorry to hear you reduce my relationship with your mother to such a stark and crude description. Not all men marry simply to beget an heir, although that is an important motivation.”
Her father’s soft but stern words were like daggers hitting Caroline’s heart. She loved him and had not meant to hurt his feelings.
“Your mother and I have always had a warm regard for each other, a loving relationship. Many other couples have the same. We have only wished for you to find happiness. I fear we must step in and decide for you, unless you make a decision this season.”
“It is quite useless talking to her, James. I never expected to have such a disobedient daughter.
“Be properly attired for the White’s dinner this evening.” Her mother ran her eyes over Caroline’s ruined outfit. “Throw those clothes out. Your new gown arrived for the Sylvester Ball next week. You are to do nothing to create further gossip between now and then.”
“Yes, Mother. I’ll try to not embarrass you. Excuse me.” Caroline rubbed her temples as she walked away.
“And do quit that habit you have of rubbing your head and biting your lip when I talk to you. It is quite annoying.”
* * * *
“You’re too hard on her, Margaret,” the Earl of Halsford said.
“You have been much too easy, James. I want to see our daughter married with a family of her own. I only want what is best for her.”
He chewed on the end of his pipe and leaned back in his chair. “She must decide on someone before word gets out of my impending financial woes. She has her grandmother’s money, but she will not invite as advantageous a match if word of my difficulties leak out.”
“I don’t understand. You have always been successful in your investments,” Margaret said.
“I agree, but everything I’ve done lately has gone awry. I’ve enlisted a new man to help me with my future transactions. Don’t worry, my dear, things will come around.”
“I hope so.” She stood, straightened her skirts, and walked to the door. “It is time to dress for the upcoming evening.”
“I’ll be along in a minute, after I finish smoking my pipe.” He watched his wife leave. She had retained much of her good looks. Her tongue was sharper than when they married twenty-five years ago, but overall they were comfortable together. He loved his daughter. He only wished they also had a son to be his heir.
He sat and thought about his investments that had recently gone sour. A good deal of money had been lost. More than he wanted his wife or daughter to know. If the losses continued, he would have to tell them.
Caroline needed to choose someone before he had to cut back his expenses and return to their country estate. She wouldn’t mind leaving London. Caroline didn’t care for town life. His daughter needed the right man, a strong man, to manage her. Nevertheless, she’d still be a challenge to a husband.
Perhaps he could he arrange his finances to provide a competency for his wife and daughter. But how? The way things were headed there was little likelihood of his having enough to cover more than the bare necessities. And if Caroline didn’t marry, even with the money from her grandmother, she would be little more than a penniless spinster.
Chapter Two
Eighteen-year-old Hannah Royston rushed into Damon’s study. The door, as usual, banged against the wall as she entered. Damon winced, and then smiled at his sister.
Hannah whirled around in the drawing room. “Everything is so lovely, and my new friend, Dora, is living three houses down. I met her at the dressmaker’s today. I can hardly wait for the ball tonight. How do I look? I had difficulty deciding which of my new ball gowns to wear.”
“Beautiful, you look much like our mother.” His eyes observed her, from her bright blonde curls and down over the lovely white gown. Her slippers matched the blue ribbons in her hair and the trim on her dress. Long white gloves covered her small hands and reached up to her elbows. Her blue eyes sparkled with joy.
“You will have all the young men fighting to meet you.”
“Have I
said thank you? Thank you for our lovely new homes and so many elegant gowns, but most of all I’m so glad you have returned for good. I missed you.”
“Yes, you have thanked me quite enough. I’m also glad to be home, little one.” Damon watched Hannah twirl around. Then she charged out of the room. He smiled. His sister had only two speeds, fast and faster. She grabbed life with happiness and exuberance. He envied her.
When he spent time with Hannah, the ache in his belly was less noticeable, but it had not gone away completely. The campaign for his enemy’s ruination had already started.
Damon had been surprised and pleased at the gullibility of the Earl of Halsford. Given stray bits of investment information from relative strangers, the earl seemed quite willing to invest without proper research. The reports Damon received from his inside man indicated Halsford’s finances were already on a downward spiral.
He took a swallow of whiskey and looked out the window at the back garden of his new townhouse. These last few weeks had been busy. He’d set the stage.
The house in the country had been furnished and decorated before his last voyage. He’d recently purchased this townhouse to use when in London. Being back with Hannah filled his heart with joy, especially seeing her happiness. He enjoyed watching her delight in everything.
“Damon.” The familiar voice made him turn from the window.
“Uncle Christopher, I’m glad to see you.” Damon put down his whiskey glass and greeted his uncle.
“I wanted a chance to speak with you alone, to explain about Atelstone Hall and why I didn’t have it torn down as you requested.”
“The last time I went to inspect the new house, I rode over there,” Damon said, interrupting his uncle. He looked back out the window, not seeing the trees and flowers, but remembering his reaction when he went inside his childhood home.
“I stood at the door to father’s study unable to turn the door knob.”
“It’s understandable, Damon. You were the one to find your father after he shot himself. It would be a shock for anyone, especially an eighteen-year-old boy.”
“I should have been able to go inside. It’s been years.” Damon turned to his uncle and spoke harshly. “After all it’s only a room.” He paced across to the fireplace and spread his hands toward the warmth. “I will never live there, even if I decide not to have it torn down.”
His uncle placed his hand on Damon’s shoulder. “Give yourself more time to think about what you really want to do. You may change your mind now that you’re home for good.”
Turning to face his uncle, he found they were at eye level with each other. Concern shown in the older man’s eyes.
“You’re right, there’s really no reason to worry about it now. Whatever I decide, you and Aunt Elizabeth already have the heirlooms stored for Hannah, and I have the painting of mother.”
“You want nothing else of your parents’ possessions?”
“No.”
“All right. I’m going to find Hannah and take her to the Sylvester’s. She’ll dress for her ball there. Don’t get busy and forget to come,” his uncle said.
“I won’t. I’m aware I’ve stayed away from as much of the social gatherings as possible. This one is important. I’ll remember.”
After his uncle left, Damon sat in his large, comfortable chair staring at the flames in the fireplace. His old home loomed over him as a reminder of the life he’d lost. Nothing could bring back the joy and love he’d had as a child living at his family’s estate surrounded by loving parents. He shrugged and his thoughts turned to other things.
Aunt Elizabeth, his mother’s sister, had arranged for Hannah’s presentation to the court shortly after they had arrived in town. He was eternally grateful to her. Standing in a crowded room waiting for this season’s debutantes to be introduced to the Royal couple would have driven him to distraction.
Edward Sylvester, one of his closest friends, and Edward’s wife had offered their large ballroom for Hannah’s coming out ball. That left Damon with only having to appear at the appropriate time.
Damon reached for his pipe and tobacco. After taking the first puff, he raised his head and studied the portrait of his mother. The picture had frozen her in time, young and beautiful. She’d had a sweet and gentle nature. If she were here, he knew she would attempt to talk him out of his plan. Her eyes seemed to gaze down on him now with mild reproach.
But he had waited too long to appease his anger. Nothing or no one would deter him. Then, he pictured Halsford’s daughter and her fierce fight for the chimney boy. She was no shy miss. He planned to see their paths crossed again, soon.
Shadows had fallen across the room. It was time for him to dress for the ball. The stage was set. His plan was in full motion.
He must be careful and clever so as not to hurt Hannah’s position with his actions. However, the waiting was over. A surge of cold anger flowed through him, and then a feeling of satisfaction.
Albert, his valet, helped him into his dark-blue coat. His clothes were simple in design, but expensive. The trappings of his wealth were all around him. To some this might be enough. Why couldn’t it be for him? After he had achieved his revenge, would he finally find peace? Hopefully, he’d at least find contentment.
He anticipated the ton wouldn’t reject Hannah because her brother had worked to rebuild his fortune. Money, lots of it, and a title should be enough to have them opening their arms to Hannah and him.
“Don’t wait up, Albert. I may be late.”
“Very good, my lord.”
The ride to the ball was short, but a long line of carriages stretched in front of his. It would take too much time to wait. He signaled his driver and got out.
“I’ll walk the last block.”
The best way to get inside unnoticed was through the back of the house. He darted around the corner and let himself in through the side gate, then the kitchen door. Heads turned and stared, but when the servants recognized him, they went back to work. As soon as he stepped into the corridor, he ran into the butler.
“This way, my lord.” He directed Damon around several corridors until Damon saw the Sylvesters and his aunt and uncle standing with Hannah in the receiving line. The butler excused himself. Damon watched as his lovely sister graciously greeted her guests. Tonight, more than any other time, she reminded him of their beautiful mother.
Deciding it was best to stay in the background, he waited where he was for the right moment to make his appearance. The uneasiness of how he’d be received worried him more than he’d thought, not for him, but for Hannah’s sake. Would seeing him at Hannah’s side remind the fickle ton that he was a businessman? They might turn on his sister and not accept her. His aunt and uncle had paved the way for her. The ton saw her as related to them, more than him. Still, the worry didn’t go away.
* * * *
“Caroline, quit fidgeting.” Her mother snapped her fan shut. “You would think you were eighteen and going to your first ball. Why are you so eager to attend this dance?”
“I’m not overly eager, Mama. Sara and Joan will be here. I haven’t seen them in almost a week. I’m anxious to chat with them.”
“Just remember what your father and I told you last week. You must decide on a husband soon, or we will be forced to make the decision for you.”
Caroline looked over at her father. “I don’t remember those exact words, Papa.”
He sighed. “I hate to agree, but your mother is right. We have been too lenient. Three years is long enough to make up your mind on a husband. If you can’t, then we will make the choice for you.” The expression on his face was guarded. As if his thoughts were on more than the present conversation.
Caroline knew her parents loved her and that they couldn’t really force her to marry. But to go against them in such an important decision would be difficult and create other problems.
She smoothed her hands over her new gown’s silver lace overskirt with its light gray silk underskirt
and gray satin trim. The colors accentuated her gray eyes and perpetuated her refined style, hence her reputation for being cold and haughty.
Most young men wanted someone outgoing and bubbly, so they’d left her alone. She had to find a man she preferred, or her parents would make the choice for her.
Caroline looked out at the many carriages waiting in line in front of the Sylvester mansion. In one of those carriages, her future husband might be waiting. A cold shiver went down her spine, and she pulled her cape closer around her shoulders.
She didn’t care. One man was much like another. Unbidden, she thought of the man who had stepped forward on Bond Street. A flush of heat warmed her, and she unfurled her fan to cool her face. Perhaps she was mistaken and all men were not the same.
Finally, Caroline and her parents got out of their carriage. After another wait they went through the receiving line and joined the other guests in the crowded ballroom. The band began to play as people milled around greeting each other.
The room had become overly warm. Caroline let her shawl slip down around her arms. She cooled herself with her painted fan while she watched the crush of people for a familiar face.
* * * *
He’d hidden long enough. Damon joined his sister and led her into the noisy ballroom. Heads turned and voices died down to a whisper. All eyes were on Hannah and him. Damon stiffened his spine and purposely stared at the guests closest to them.
A movement began in the crowd and two people, a man and woman, stepped forward. He recognized the Duke of Osbert, although he’d only met him once many years ago.
“Lord Royston, it is good to see you back home,” the duke said. “May I introduce my duchess?” The duke took his wife’s hand and she stepped forward, smiling.
“I do hope you both will come to the afternoon tea I’m having tomorrow. It is rather a last-minute invite, but since I’ve just met you perhaps you’ll forgive the lateness. I shall see an invitation is sent to you early tomorrow,” the duchess said.
The Viscount's Vendetta (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) Page 2
