Instead, she thought of the lack of invitations. One would think that simply being the new Countess Beachmont would be more than enough to open doors. How would she ever launch her sisters next year if she didn’t establish connections this year?
Five new ball gowns hung in her armor. Waiting for Amy to prepare them for her. She had a moment of guilt when she ordered them. It felt wrong to spend Alexander’s money like that. Even if the allowance was much more than she could spend each quarter.
Mr. Oliver, the Viscount’s banker had assured her that she was not to worry. That the Viscount could well afford the allowance. She wondered exactly how rich her husband was.
However, in reality. How much money he had did not change the fact that, with each penny, she felt a pang of guilt.
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. Johnson stepped inside. He always seemed so formal. As if she were the queen of England. He had adjusted well to his new role as butler. It was as if he had been born to it. His help and guidance over these last weeks had been invaluable.
He held a silver tray with a letter on it. Her heart stopped. Was it a letter from the Viscount? She had hoped each day that he would write. She desperately wanted to know where he was and what he was doing.
Maybe an invitation. Perhaps finally someone was willing to invite Countess Beachmont to a ball.
She had become despondent of ever receiving such an invitation. It seemed the ladies of the ton were unwilling to accept her. She wondered if it was because of her father’s background or was it her? Something she had done to become a pariah.
Johnson bowed as he presented the tray.
“My Lady. This just arrived,” he said.
A sinking sadness passed through her. It wasn’t the Viscount’s hand. And to make matters worse, it wasn’t an invitation to a ball. Not unless the ladies of the ton had started writing in big bold letters instead of the normal feminine script.
She turned the letter in her hands. On the back a simple wax seal. No coat of arms.
Countess Beachmont was written on the front. Nothing more.
Interesting she thought. Before she opened the letter, she caught a worried look on the butler’s face.
“Is everything all right Johnson?”
“Yes, of course, My Lady.”
“But?” she asked.
The butler hesitated for a moment. “The letter was delivered by a young boy. A street urchin. I would have expected a courier or a footman. Not some guttersnipe.”
Caroline laughed at her servants concern. “Well there is only one way find out,” she said as she slipped a letter opener behind the seal and broke it open.
Five words. Five small words that could change a person’s life.
‘I know your Father’s Secret.’
Her world turned cold as her heart pounded in her chest. How? Who?
She quickly folded the letter. Her fingers clenching it like it was her last penny. Please, she prayed. Not now. How was this possible? What if they told Alexander? How would he react? The shame would be too much. She would never be able to face him.
Was this why she hadn’t been invited to a ball. Not even to a garden party or afternoon tea. Did they know? Did everyone already know what her father had done?
She glanced at Johnson. Had he seen what was written on the letter? His face appeared concerned. Not judgmental.
“That will be all Johnson, Thank you.”
Her butler hesitated for a moment. He could tell that something was wrong. His eyes narrowed as if he was going to say something. Instead, he gathered himself and nodded. “Of course My Lady.”
Caroline watched him until he had left the room. She slowly opened the letter once again. As if it were a snake that might bite her.
The words hadn’t changed. Who could it be?
Strangely enough, she didn’t think it was anyone from Dorset. None of her father’s friends or crewmen would have such fine handwriting. Not unless they’d had someone else write it for them. The Vicar maybe.
How many people did know the secret she wondered? Her hands shook. What now. What should she do?
Johnson had said that a street urchin had delivered it. Could she locate them? Use them to find the letter’s originator?
Why had they sent it? What purpose did it serve? Blackmail? What did they want? What would she do? How much would she pay to keep the secret from reaching other’s ears?
Her heart continued to pound. Everything had gone so well. Her sisters were safe. The Mayfair house had been opened and turned into a home. Even if the Viscount wasn’t here to share it. At least it was respectable.
If the ton discovered her father’s secret, every thing would be ruined. All of it. Her sisters would never marry. No one would ever talk to them again. Alexander? My god, she thought. Alexander would disown her.
.o0o.
Caroline subconsciously rubbed her tummy. For two days, she’d dreaded the next note. Feared a knock at the door with some young person delivering more bad news.
Every night she had tossed and turned, her head rumbling with possibilities and what ifs.
Yesterday Alice had said that she looked tired. Then felt her forehead. Both of the girls worried about a repeat of the fever that had attacked her at Armherst.
Caroline was perfectly aware that she looked like death warmed over. Her face had a pale pallor made worse by the dark circles under her eyes. She needed to rest. She needed a goodnight’s sleep. But deep down she feared that wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon.
As she left the parlor, she reminded herself that she was to meet with Cook later that afternoon to discuss the week’s menu. She didn’t know why she even bothered. Cook had been preparing food for her and the girls for over ten years. She knew what they liked. But Cook insisted.
It seemed to her that the servants that had served them before had become more formal. More stand-offish. She wondered if it was because of her new rank. Or were they merely following Johnson’s lead?
Speaking of her butler. Was that him around the corner? It was. Dressed in his typical black coat he stood at the end of the hall talking to someone.
As Caroline shifted, she saw her maid Amy with her back to the wall. Looking up at the butler with eyes as big as a doe. A look of pure adoration on her face. The girl had it bad, Caroline realized.
What must it be like to be in love like that? To be so sure of your feelings and to have those feeling returned. An envious impulse passed through her heart.
Great! Now she was jealous of Amy.
She politely coughed. Amy’s eyes jumped in shock, her cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. The young woman stepped away from the wall as Johnson turned.
The butler’s face remained passive, but Caroline could tell the man was chagrined. Obviously upset at having been discovered flirting with her ladies maid.
“Excuse me, Johnson. When you have a moment,” Caroline said.
“Of course My Lady,” he said as he left Amy without a backward glance.
Caroline shot her maid a look of apology then led the way back to the study. Once the butler had closed the door, she turned to him.
“Johnson, I’m worried about the girl’s security. I need you to take steps to ensure they are protected.”
The butler’s brow shot up in surprise.
“Of course My Lady. The girl’s safety is always my highest priority. Why, have I failed somehow? Is there something, in particular, you are concerned about?”
“No, No, I am sure you have taken all precautions. But I just wanted to double check. I want to ensure the girls did not go anywhere without an escort. One of the footmen. If the girls are together, then send two footmen.”
“Yes, My Lady. I always do.” He looked at her as if trying to decipher a puzzle. “Should I send word to His Lordship?”
Caroline blanched. “No!”
She took a breath to try to calm her racing pulse. That was the last thing she needed.
“No need to bot
her his lordship. I just wanted to make sure that we were taking the proper precautions. No specific reason. Just one of the many things on my list of things to be confirmed.”
“Of course My Lady. I understand,” he said in that formal voice of his. Caroline could tell that he didn’t, but he was too fine a servant ever to contradict her.
.o0o.
Alexander pulled his horse to a stop at the crossroads. Six long weeks in the Lake District behind him. He ground his teeth at the thought of how much time it had taken to fix all the problems created by his cheating agent.
The man had been smart enough to decamp before his arrival. It was the only thing that saved him from being strung up by his thumbs.
Once he had discovered the extent of the mismanagement. In fact, the embezzlement. He had immediately sent word to his London solicitors to dispatch a new agent.
While he waited, he had traveled to each of his holdings to ensure all was taken care of. His tenants had been relieved to see him. They hadn’t liked the agent either.
Endless days in the saddle. Meeting farmers around their dinner table while the farmer’s wife looked on as if all the problems in the world were his fault.
Sighing to himself he rested for a moment. His mind wandering. Lost in thought.
To the right lay the widow, Lady Parkers. An hour’s ride. He could let her ease his worries. Let her wash away this anger inside him. At least for a short period.
Straight ahead lay home. A day on the road and he would be able to sleep in his own bed. James would be waiting for him. Nanny would cook a roast. Hearth and home. Wasn’t that what every man wanted?
To the left lay London. Three days of hard riding. Hard beds in drafty inns. London with all of its noise, smells, and disturbances. Nothing there for him.
Nothing but her.
He turned his horse to the left and gave him a slight touch of spur.
Chapter Thirteen
Caroline sat at her small writing desk in the study. She’d had the desk brought from her bedroom down to the study and placed it in the corner. Alexander’s desk was too big. It made her feel like a little girl in the school room.
Smiling to herself at the image, she slowly reviewed the grocer’s bill. Adding the figures in her head as she went. A memory of her father teaching her how to add and subtract flashed into her mind.
Her father. The man could barely read but could add a dozen numbers in his head.
Smiling, she returned to her books. The butcher’s and the baker’s bills were next. It amazed her how much food the house consumed.
It made her realize how impossible it would have been to feed herself and her sisters in Dorset. The forest and seaside would have had to provide the bulk of their food. The thought made her shudder.
Writing the final figure into her book she prepared to start on the next bill when a loud banging at the front door made her heart lurch.
Was it another letter? It had been over six days since the last. She had begun to hope there would be no more. To secretly believe it had all been a mistake.
She held her breath waiting for Johnson to deliver another missive on a silver platter.
Loud footsteps marched across the foyer floor towards the study. It didn’t sound like Johnson, the man was as quiet as a church mouse. What’s more, he had trained the footmen to be as quiet and unobtrusive as well.
She watched the study door. Dreading, waiting.
The door opened without a knock.
“Alexander,” she gasped.
The Viscount stood there in all his commanding glory. His hair wet from the mist. His dark, brooding eyes piercing her soul. Searching, as if looking to make sure he truly saw what was before him.
A heavy scowl marred his face. Why was he angry? She wondered. He’s always angry, she reminded herself.
Caroline’s heart pounded as if it was trying to escape from her chest. Why was he here? What did it mean?
“Alexander,” She repeated. “You’re here.” That’s it, when flustered, state the obvious. She cringed inside as she chastised herself.
Their eyes locked for a moment. Butterflies erupted in her stomach. He looked so handsome and dangerous in his black riding cloak. A highwayman set to take what he wanted. Not at all like the refined Viscount she knew he could be at times.
“Yes, well,” he said as he stepped into the room. “I finally finished up north and was in the area. I thought I might stop in and check to see how you and your sisters were doing.”
Caroline instantly recalled the map of England that used to hang on the girl’s nursery wall. A quick check confirmed that he was not being entirely truthful. London was several days out of his way.
He watched her calculate distances in her mind. She thought she saw a brief flash of guilt but then it was gone before she could be sure. He marched across the room to the decanter and poured himself a heavy drink.
“Ahhh,” he said as he finished it all. “I have been looking forward to that since Oxford.”
Caroline’s world spun around her. She couldn’t get a grasp on what was going on. She narrowed her brow and tried to concentrate. What did it mean?
Before she could press him, the door flew open and two young tempests flew into the room. Both Alice and Beatrice looked as if it were Christmas morning.
“Alexander, you are here.”
Both girls remembered their manners and quickly curtsied then rushed to hug him.
“Whoa, whoa,” he said, holding out his hands to stop their advance. “I smell of horse and cheap inns. I’ve been on the road for three days.”
The girls stopped for a moment then reached out to hug him anyway. He smiled over their heads at Caroline.
She returned his smile. Happy to see her sisters pleased. Happy to know that they looked at him as theirs. A brief pang of envy flashed through her. To think that they got to hug him. While she continued to stand on the other side of the room. Merely a bystander.
“That’s enough girls,” she said to her sisters. “Let his Lordship relax. I am sure he is very tired after his travels.”
Both girls reluctantly stepped back. Their faces slightly flushed. Their smiles, though, told the truth.
“Will you be staying long?” Alice asked with a hopeful grin.
Alexander dipped his head. “A few days,” he said.
Caroline’s heart dropped. Only a few days. What did that mean? Did he expect her in his bed? What of their agreement? Caroline had difficulty sorting out the dozen emotions tumbling through her.
She was ecstatic that he was here but confused and worried. Did he know of the note? Had he come to see her or was she only an afterthought.
“I must return to Armherst,” Alexander said to the girls. “I have been away too long.”
Then, looking at Caroline he said, “I’ve told Johnson to have them prepare me a bath and to send someone to my club to retrieve my things. I believe I have clothes appropriate for London. But I will have to leave again shortly.”
She wondered what he was looking for. Did he want her to beg him to stay? Was he asking her permission to remain? It was his house. She had no choice in the matter.
She cursed the fact that she didn’t know her husband well enough to read his intentions. A mere look wasn’t enough between them.
“Of course, My Lord,” She said. “I will ensure the servants have your room ready. I’ve made a few changes. I hope you will like them.”
The Viscount hesitated a moment. As if disappointed, then said, “I am sure they will be fine. From what I have seen so far you have done an excellent job with the house. I wouldn’t have known it. I especially like the new sconces in the foyer.”
She smiled inside at his praise. It meant a lot to her that he approved. She had been so worried.
The study door opened and Johnson stepped in. As regal as ever. Caroline thought she saw a brief hint of a smile when he saw the Viscount with the two young girls.
He has replaced their father she r
ealized. She had been so wrapped up in her own grief and worrying how to save the family. She hadn’t really seen the girl’s grief. Never taken into account their loss.
Alexander had not only saved them from a life of misery. He had also provided an anchor to grab onto in their time of sadness.
“Your bath is ready, My Lord,” he said.
“Thank you, Johnson, I will be right up.” He smiled at the girls. His face looked so different when he smiled. That angry scowl made him appear dangerous, but that smile made him seem lovable.
“Ladies, please allow me to make myself more presentable. I will see you at dinner. Are you going out tonight Caroline? Maybe I could accompany you. Unless that would be inconvenient of course?
Caroline realized immediately that he thought she might be seeing a lover. Her insides turned over at the idea he could think of her that way. The thought didn’t seem to bother him at all. How was that possible? Did she mean so little to him?
“No, My Lord. I have no plans for the evening.”
“No dances, no soirees? I thought you would be the talk of the town by now.”
His words stung. He didn’t know, it wasn’t his fault. She said to herself. But that didn’t lessen the sting.
“She never goes anywhere,” Alice said. “She hasn’t been invited to one party.”
Caroline scowled at her sister. How dare she share such personal information?
Alice at least had the good graces to recognize her error. She shot her older sister a look of apology then stepped back. Deciding to be quiet unless she make another mistake.
“Oh, I see,” the Viscount said with a confused look. Obviously he didn’t. He was probably wondering why his wife was so unpopular and if that fact would impact his social standing.
“Well, I will join you for dinner and remain for a little while. But then I will be out for the evening. I should probably stop in at my club and a few other places. Let them know I am in town.”
Caroline’s heart fell. What other places? Would she see so little of him then? And when he returned. Would he come to her room? And if he did, what would she do?
She was his wife, she reminded herself. Under the law, that fact gave him rights to her whenever he desired. Their agreement had never been documented. As far as the world was concerned he could do whatever he desired and she couldn’t stop him.
The Viscount's Bride (Love's Pride Book 2) Page 10
