Sense & Sensuality: Caroline's After Dark Georgian Romance (The Gravesmeres Book 3)

by Alicia Quigley

  Cecilia flushed. “You are very unkind to throw that back in my face,”

  Tristan shrugged lazily. “And you are unkind to take Lady Eskmaine to task, who has done naught but be a good friend to you.”

  “But she lied to me!” said Caroline. “She said you were mere acquaintances.”

  Caroline walked over and took Cecilia’s hand in hers. “That’s enough, child. I’m sure you were surprised by what you saw, but whatever there is between Lord Gresham and me is none of your concern.”

  “You are lovers!” accused Cecilia. “And you told me you were not!”

  “As though I would tell you something of that nature!” responded Caroline.

  “Oh! You think me a mere child! You are very unkind to me!” Cecilia yanked her arm away from Caroline and ran off across the grass.

  Tristan put a hand on Caroline’s shoulder when she moved to follow. “She is a mere child, after all, so leave her be,” he said. “She has nowhere to go but home with you, and if you give her some time to think about it, she will be less angry. Am I to gather that she had some intention of attaching me?”

  “It was a foolish notion of hers, but she finds you handsome and charming. And rich, which is, sadly, her primary objective. I fear that your rescue of her at Ranelagh only added to the tangle,” said Caroline.

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry if I’ve caused you difficulties. Truly, I care only that you find me handsome and charming.”

  Caroline looked up at him and smiled, but shook her head. “Surely you can see the damage that has been caused by our affaire? I must go see if I can comfort her. Also, I must stop her from telling everyone what she saw!”

  “I wish she would,” he replied. “Then you might have to marry me.”

  “This merely compounds the reasons I cannot do that,” she said. “I must go find her.” She shook her head as he moved to work with her. “No, please don’t accompany me. It would only make Cecilia angrier.”

  “Do you truly wish me to leave you alone?” he asked.

  “No, the very thought makes me entirely wretched,” she said. “But it is necessary that we end this now. Too many people will be angry and hurt if we continue.”

  “And the next time I encounter you in a garden?” he asked.

  Caroline closed her eyes. “I will need to make sure that does not happen.”

  “Will you marry Sir Geoffrey?”

  Her eyes flew open at that. “No! No, I won’t do that. You have ruined me for that sort of marriage.”

  “I’m glad; he does not deserve you. I will miss you, Caro.”

  She gazed at him, and then turned away, hurrying across the lawn. It would not do to stay longer, or her tears would surely spill over. No matter how much he said he cared for her, she knew it was not in his nature to remain faithful to any woman, and that she herself could accept nothing less.

  Chapter 21

  Cecilia hastened across the grass, her anger reflected on her face. That Caroline should deceive her so, and with Lord Gresham, who she had had hopes of possibly marrying, was still worse. Cecilia imagined the two of them, laughing at her childish optimism behind her back. It was altogether too bad. She wished that Allegra were in London, so that she could unburden herself to her. Allegra would never treat her in such way.

  As she stormed back to the party, wrapped in her misery, she failed to see Lady Manning approaching. That lady paused, startled to see Miss Ashdown unaccompanied, and clearly upset. She looked further up the path, but could see no one about. Perhaps Mr. Wyman had contrived to get her alone again, and had offended the child. She arranged her features in a sympathetic expression, and placed herself in Cecilia’s way.

  Made oblivious by her ponderings on the iniquities visited upon her, Cecilia walked into Lady Manning, and stepped back with a muffled “Oh!” She looked up and colored.

  “Lady Manning!” she exclaimed. “I do beg your pardon. I did not see you. I fear I was much distracted.”

  “There is no harm done, my dear, I am unhurt,” said Louisa in a gentle voice. She looked at Cecilia more closely, and took her hand and patted it. “But you seem unhappy. What is it that has upset you?”

  Cecilia looked up at her doubtfully, mindful that Caroline had warned her away from Lady Manning. “It is nothing,” she said. “I must return to the company.”

  “Did someone hurt you, child?” asked Louisa. “Lady Lansdowne would be very angry if someone offered you an insult at her home, and I’m sure Lady Eskmaine would be dismayed to know you are unhappy.”

  “No, it is nothing,” said Cecilia. She dashed away a tear. But the mention of Lady Eskmaine made her anger return with rush. Lady Manning’s solicitude seemed to her to be far kinder than Caroline’s scolding.

  “Come, it is clearly something,” said Louisa, producing a delicate lace handkerchief and handing it to Cecilia. “Do let me assist you.”

  Cecilia took the handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes, then glanced over her shoulder. “It is just that—” she paused. “I suppose I should not say anything,” she trailed off.

  “Nonsense, child. How can I help you if you will not tell me what is wrong?” asked Lady Manning.

  Cecilia looked up at her doubtfully. She did seem to be very sympathetic. “Something happened that I was not expecting,” she said softly.

  “What a pity,” purred Lady Manning. “Perhaps I can help to solve your problem.” She took Cecilia hand again and led her to a pretty bench nestled beneath the branches of a flowering tree. “There you are, that’s much better,” said, seating herself and drawing Cecilia down with her. “Now, do tell me what happened, and we shall see if I may be of assistance.”

  Cecilia sniffed into the handkerchief. “I don’t know if I should say anything,” she murmured.

  “Come, it will help if you tell someone. Problems always seem less difficult when you share them. I have had many problems in my life,” Louisa assured her. “Perhaps my experience can help you.”

  Cecilia seemed to draw comfort from this observation. “Lord Gresham—” she began, and paused.

  Louisa’s eyes widened. She had not thought Tristan so foolish as to make advances on a girl so young. “What did Lord Gresham do?” she prodded.

  “Well, he did nothing, I suppose, it was Lady Eskmaine,” said Cecilia. “Or rather, it was what they were doing together.”

  “And what were they doing?” urged Louisa, very softly.

  “He kissed her!” produced Cecilia. “I saw them!”

  “Gracious,” said Louisa. It was not what she had hoped for, but was still interesting. “How fascinating.” She sat back on the bench, looking amused.

  Cecilia looked up at her, recalled to reality by the smug tone in Lady Manning’s voice. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?” she asked fearfully.

  Louisa gave a crow of delight. “I had long thought he must be tupping her. I thank you for the information.”

  “But you won’t tell anyone,” repeated Cecilia.

  Lady Manning shrugged. “We shall see,” she said. “It really wasn’t very wise of you to tell me, Miss Ashdown. Did no one inform you of my great interest in your family?”

  Cecilia gave a little cry and stood up, and then, dropping the handkerchief on the ground, ran away as quickly as her petticoats would allow. She realized with horror what a mistake she had made in allowing Lady Manning to coax the story from her. Now, if she said something, Caroline would know from whom Lady Manning had the information. She recalled Caroline’s earlier words, and realized that if a scandal ensued, she could very well be sent home to Yorkshire, husbandless and friendless.

  Mr. Wyman stood on the terrace, surveying the colorful crowd. Miss Ashdown had been gone some minutes, and he waited impatiently for her return. He knew it would be impossible to engage her once Barford had seized her attention, and it was imperative that he speak to her before Lady Eskmaine rejoined the group. Since that dreadful night at Ranelagh he had not been alone with Cecilia for a moment;
she had been polite, but elusive, and clearly had turned her attention away from him.

  “What are you looking so glum about, Rollie?” asked Anthony Belvoir, walking up to him at a leisurely pace. “It’s a lovely day, the refreshments are excellent, and the company delightful.”

  Mr. Wyman shook his head. “I lost another three thousand yesterday on a horse,” he said shortly. “I was assured it was a winner, but nothing came of it. I’m rolled up, unless I can find some money soon.”

  The gentleman shook his head. “You should be more discreet, Rollie. Whatever possessed you to wager that much when you don’t have it?”

  “I told you, I was promised the nag would win,” said Mr. Wyman angrily. “And you surely aren’t one to chastise me, Anthony.”

  “You’re a fool, Rollie,” said Mr. Belvoir calmly. “What of Lady Manning? She seems to be greatly epris, and that wool merchant of hers left her a vast, if vulgar fortune. You could do worse.”

  “Ah, but I’m looking for better breeding than that,” said Mr. Wyman. Across the crowd he saw Cecilia hurrying towards the terrace. “There’s my pigeon now. If you will excuse me, Anthony, I have some business to attend to.”

  He hastened away, on a path that would cross Cecilia’s. Before she could reach the terrace, Mr. Wyman was at her side, bowing gracefully. “Miss Ashdown, I have been hoping you would return,” he said. “I have missed you.”

  Cecilia looked up at him, unsure of what to say. The enormity of what she had revealed to Lady Manning continued to plague her, and she knew well that speaking with Mr. Wyman was unacceptable. It would not do to repeat her mistake.

  “I am sorry, Mr. Wyman, but I must—” she hesitated. What must she do? She could not return to London without Caroline, and Caroline might now be even angrier with her than previously.

  “Please, spare me a moment,” he begged. Taking her hand, he led her a few steps away, to where the stone railing of the terrace partially concealed them.

  She looked up at him, confused. “What do you want?” she asked. “I shouldn’t be talking to you.”

  “Only a moment of your time.” He looked around to make certain they were unobserved, and took one of her hands in his. “Miss Ashdown, you must be aware of the deep regard in which I hold you, and the strong feelings I have for you.”

  “Oh,” said Cecilia, taking a step back.

  “Oh, indeed, Miss Ashdown,” said Mr. Wyman. His hand tightened on hers. “I know it is wrong of me to speak to you without first requesting permission from the Duke of Gravesmere, but my emotions cannot be so constricted. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  “Your wife?” repeated Cecilia,

  He chuckled, and raised her limp hand to his lips. “My wife, Miss Ashdown. Your beauty and gentleness have aroused the strongest emotions in my breast. I cannot rest until you are mine. I know it was wrong of me to approach you at Ranelagh, but, be assured, it was only the violence of my emotions for you that drove me to the actions that I now regret. My intentions are, and always have been, honorable.”

  “But—but Mr. Wyman, this is highly improper,” ventured Cecilia.

  “Perhaps it is, but my affection for you overwhelms me,” he pronounced. “Miss Ashdown, I beg you, flee with me. We will marry now, and not let our love be denied.”

  “Our love?” said Cecilia. “But Mr. Wyman—”

  “Hush, my dear,” he said. “I know your feelings are as strong as mine. I long for the day you will be my wife, and I cannot wait for the proprieties. I must have you now. Elope with me tomorrow!”

  Cecilia blinked up at him, her misery complete. She feared she had lost the approval of Lady Eskmaine, and now she was receiving a proposal of marriage from a man against whose pretensions she had been warned more than once. Yet it was still a proposal of marriage. If Caroline meant to send her home, then at least, if she eloped, she would have a husband. Surely she could convince him to live more sensibly; after all, he was clearly in love with her and would doubtless do her bidding in the future.

  “I don’t know,” she murmured. “It would be most improper.”

  “Do not make me suffer, my love,” he pressed. “I cannot wait for you to be my wife.”

  “Tomorrow?” she fretted.

  “Tomorrow,” he said soothingly. “We cannot delay. I will take you away to Gretna Green and you will return my beloved wife. No one will then be able to separate us.”

  Cecilia bit her lip and glanced over her shoulder, half hoping that someone might rescue her. She saw Lady Manning glide along the terrace and approach Lord Barford, smiling up at him invitingly. Cecilia sighed. She had no very strong emotions for Mr. Wyman, but he was handsome and charming, and would be better than no husband at all.

  Very well,” she said, in a dejected tone.

  If Mr. Wyman was discouraged by her lack of enthusiasm, he did not show it. “You have made me the happiest of men,” he promised. “Can you leave Lady Eskmaine’s house tonight without being seen? Shall we say at two-o-clock?”

  “Two-o-clock?” repeated Cecilia. “We are going to Vauxhall Gardens tonight. I shall be far too tired to elope at two-o-clock.”

  “A late night elopement is traditional, as it ensures we cannot be followed,” Mr. Wyman pointed out. “You could sleep in the carriage.”

  “Oh, but it would be so uncomfortable,” said Cecilia. “I never sleep well if I am not in my own bed. Could we leave tomorrow morning? I would much prefer that.”

  Mr. Wyman tamped down his annoyance and squeezed her hand gently. “It shall be as you wish, but it must be early. Can you get out of Lady Eskmaine’s house at eight-o-clock without being seen?”

  “I think so,” said Cecilia. “Lady Eskmaine will be asleep, or with her son, and the servants will not question me. They will doubtless be busy preparing for the day.”

  “I will have a carriage at the end of Brook Street at eight-o-clock,” he said. “Be sure to be on time; we must get away quickly so that if we are pursued we shall not be caught.”

  Cecilia nodded doubtfully. “I will be there,” she promised. She resisted an urge to burst into tears. It seemed very wrong to be forced to marry Mr. Wyman simply because Caroline had deceived her about Lord Gresham. She slipped her hand out of his fervent grasp. “I must return; people will notice that we have slipped away.”

  “You are wise indeed,” said Mr. Wyman. “Though I am loath to leave your company, now that I have your promise, I am content.”

  With a doubtful glance at her future husband, Cecilia hastened back to the party. Lord Barford was still talking to Lady Manning, who had a firm grasp on his arm and appeared to hang on his every word. She looked away, dismayed, and soon spotted Caroline, speaking to Lady Halliwell. She hesitated, taking a moment to collect herself, but Caroline saw her and beckoned her over.

  “Cecilia dear, I believe we should be going,” she said, in as calm a tone as she could muster.

  Cecilia glared at her mutinously, her anger rising as she reflected on Caroline’s cruelty towards her. “But I do not wish to leave,” she objected.

  “Nonetheless, we must be on our way.” She said her good-byes to Lady Halliwell and then led Cecilia away.

  “This is not fair of you,” pouted Cecilia. “I wish to stay. Lord Barford promised to show me the fountains.”

  “I’m very sorry that I’m spoiling your pleasure,” said Caroline. “But everything cannot be pleasure all the time. And, speaking of that, we must say good-bye to our hostess.”

  She drew the reluctant Cecilia over to Lady Lansdowne who stood chattering merrily with several gentlemen.

  “Lady Lansdowne, we must go. My cousin has a headache,” improvised Caroline, ignoring Cecilia as she made a noise like an outraged kitten.

  Lady Lansdowne turned toward them, smiling maliciously. “What a pity, I shall miss you both. I saw you with Sir Geoffrey, Caroline; do you have any news of an interesting nature?”

  “None at all,” said Caroline. “Sir Geoffrey
merely escorted me to view the fountain and then we returned to the party.”

  Lady Lansdowne appeared to be disappointed. “What a pity,” she said. “I do hope you feel quite the thing again quickly, Miss Ashdown.”

  “Thank you,” said Caroline, as Cecilia refused to speak. She led her cousin away, and was relieved when it did not take long to summon her carriage. She bundled Cecilia into it and they drove away.

  Caroline did not offer any conversation, as she had no idea what she might say, and the silence stretched out between them. Finally Cecilia, who apparently could restrain herself no longer, burst into speech.

  “How dare you encourage me to pursue Lord Gresham, when he is your lover?” she demanded.

  Caroline could not suppress a laugh. “Cecilia, I have continually done my best to convince you that Lord Gresham would not make you a good husband. Never once have I encouraged your ridiculous pursuit of him.”

  “Ridiculous!” Cecilia was offended by Caroline’s obvious amusement. “He has been very kind to me, and I thought—” she broke off, searching for her handkerchief.

  Caroline watched her, trying to remember what it was like to be so very young and self-absorbed. After watching Cecilia’s fruitless search for some moments, she produced her own handkerchief and handed it to her. “He was doubtless kind to you for my sake,” she said. “And because he did not care to see someone so innocent be compromised.”

  “Innocent?” Everything Caroline said seemed to be designed to upset Cecilia. “I am no innocent. I have been in London for weeks now!”

  Caroline shook her head. “You are an innocent,” she asserted. “A remarkably foolish one too, at that.”

  “And you are—are—” Cecilia broke off, and sniffed into the tiny square of lace.

  “Yes?” said Caroline.

  “Unkind, and…and immoral!”

  Caroline’s lips twitched. “Immoral? I thought you told me that all fashionable ladies had lovers,” she said.

  “Well, I didn’t mean that you should have one,” said Cecilia. “You are far too—well, far too respectable to be involved with a man such as Lord Gresham. You yourself told me that your brother does not like him!”