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

by Alicia Quigley

  Bunton’s face was carefully blank. “Lord Gresham is a not infrequent visitor at this house,” he said calmly. “If you wish for further explanation, I am sure the dowager duchess would be best able to assist you.”

  “Damn him!” Adam glared at the butler. “I knew something was wrong. If Gresham has been annoying my sister—” He stopped as the memory of what he had seen only a short while before flooded back into his mind. He saw again Gresham’s curricle racing down the London street, a woman seated next to him. A woman who Adam had found in some way familiar. His eyes grew wide.

  “Damn it, did Gresham abduct my sister?” he demanded of the astounded Bunton.

  “Your Grace, I am not aware of any abduction conducted in this house today,” the butler responded. “I regret that I cannot furnish you with more information. Lady Eskmaine is not given to confiding in me. I feel sure that the dowager duchess knows more than I do.”

  Adam turned furious eyes on Bunton, but, to that individual’s considerable relief, merely made an enraged noise then turned and stalked out of the house. With a sigh of relief the butler closed the door behind him.

  Adam strode down Brook Street, trying to sort out the threads of what he knew. One thing was clear to him; Caroline had lost her mind. The woman in Gresham’s curricle had not appeared to be distressed, and Sir William had noted the presence of two valises on the carriage. It seemed his sister had gone with Gresham willingly. And his mother had been present! How could his mother have allowed Caroline to do such a thing? It made no sense.

  Furiously, the duke sought a solution to his problem. That Gresham had decided to make a habit of running off with women from his family he now had no doubts. He could chase them, of course, but Gresham and Caroline had been gone more than an hour now, and Adam knew that he would be unable catch them, even if he knew where they had gone.

  His steps eventually returned him to Berkeley Square and he stalked up the stairs to Gravesmere House, startling Bates by glowering at him furiously.

  “Where is my mother?” he demanded.

  “In her sitting room, with Her Grace,” responded the butler cautiously.

  Flinging his hat and gloves on a table, Adam mounted the stairs and threw open the door to the morning room. Allegra and the dowager were seated next to each other on a silk-covered settee, their heads close together as they talked. Emily looked up as the door opened, and when she saw Adam she started visibly.

  “Oh, Adam, darling. Welcome home,” she said weakly. “I have missed you and dear Allegra. She was just telling me of your pleasant time at Gravesmere.”

  Adam’s eyes travelled from his mother’s guilty face to his wife’s. Allegra smiled at him brightly, her eyes clear. “There you are, darling,” she said. “Where have you been?”

  “I went to Tattersall’s with Taslebourn, and then, when you were not here, I went to Caroline’s, hoping to find you,” replied Adam.

  The dowager shifted uncomfortably. “To Caroline’s? Oh my. I mean, why would you do that?”

  “I thought that Allegra might be visiting Cecilia. But Caro was not home either; Bunton tells me she has been called out of town.” Adam watched his mother’s face closely.

  “Oh, was she? How surprising,” said the dowager.

  “Bunton tells me you were there when she left, Mother, so I don’t see why you would be surprised,” said Adam.

  “I was? Oh yes, I was,” agreed Emily. “Indeed. She had word from her friend Mrs. Palfrey in Richmond. She has been having a terrible time with her son, and Caro thought she might help her.”

  “She appears to have left in something of a hurry,” said Adam.

  “Yes, well, Mrs. Palfrey seemed to be distraught, and Caro did not wish to keep her waiting.” Emily shook her head.

  “What a pity,” said Allegra. “I’m sure Caroline will be able to assist her. She is always so helpful.”

  “Dear Caroline,” murmured Emily.

  The two women gazed silently at Adam.

  Adam glanced from his mother to his wife. It was plain that Emily was concealing the truth from him, but he had no idea why, or if Allegra knew about it. He could hardly demand of his mother that she tell him the truth, particularly as he had no idea if his suspicions were correct. If Caroline was having an affaire with Gresham, he hardly thought his mother would sanction it, but women did do strange things.

  “I see.” He glowered at his wife and mother for a moment, and Allegra turned her brilliant smile on him.

  “Adam, do change your clothes, and we will ride in the park,” she said. “I’ve not seen my friends in days, and I long to know what has happened in my absence.”

  Adam hesitated. “Very well,” he said and turned and walked away. Allegra gazed after him.

  “Oh dear,” she said. “I wish he hadn’t gone to Caro’s. He clearly suspects something is going on.”

  Emily leaned against the back of the settee and sighed. “I shudder to think what he would say if he knew the truth. His sister entangled with Gresham! Cecilia eloping with Mr. Wyman! And Caroline chasing after her with that—that man.”

  Allegra patted her hand. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way, Mama. I had some notion that Caro was amusing herself with Gresham, but I didn’t think you would wish to know.”

  Emily gaped at her. “You knew?”

  Allegra shrugged. “I guessed, I didn’t know. I can’t say I’m surprised; the two of them are always whispering in corners and Caroline flushes every time his name is mentioned.”

  “Gracious,” said Emily. “I would never have thought it of her.”

  “Caro has the same needs as other women,” said Allegra. “She is still young, and has been a widow four years. That is a long time to go without a man’s attentions.”

  “Allegra!” Emily shook her head, shocked. “Whatever shall we do?”

  “Do?” asked Allegra. “There is nothing we can do. Caro and Gresham are long gone; we must hope that they find Cecilia and bring her home safely, and that Lord Barford does not learn the truth. Now I had best go after Adam, and keep him from asking questions. He’s clearly suspicious that more is going on with Caro than a mere visit to Richmond.” She rose and dropped a kiss on Emily’s cheek. “Don’t fret, Mama. Caro is very sensible and Gresham is clearly fond of her if he is helping her in this way. No harm will come to her.”

  “No harm? She is racing across England in a curricle with one of the most notorious rakes in London!”

  “When you put it that way, it does sound dreadful,” agreed Allegra. “But we must hope for the best. We must also hope that Adam doesn’t find out! That would only make matters far worse.”

  With a reassuring pat on Emily’s shoulder, Allegra left the room. An hour later she was mounted on her dark bay mare, wearing a gorgeously frogged and braided riding habit of dark blue wool, with a dashing high peaked cap covering her titian curls. Adam rode next to her, his chestnut glistening in the sun, a frown marring his handsome face.

  “Don’t pout so, Adam, people will think we are quarreling,” said Allegra as they walked their horses sedately down the Row.

  “Do you believe Mother when she says Caro has gone to Richmond?” asked Adam.

  Allegra turned her wide blue eyes on him. “And why should I not? Where else would your sister be?”

  He shrugged. “It seems odd that she would go off so quickly,” he said.

  “I’m sure Mrs. Palfrey has great need of her,” said Allegra. “You mustn’t worry.”

  Adam gazed into his wife’s wife blue eyes, and then shrugged. Either Allegra did not know where Caroline was, or the women in his family were concealing something from him. He was willing to wager it was the latter, particularly as he was sure Gresham was involved. He would bide his time, he decided. Eventually Gresham and Caro would have to return to town, and then he would make sure that the baron understood that his sister was not his plaything.

  “Shall we trot?” he asked.

  Chapter 25
/>   Once Tristan’s curricle had left the crush of town behind, Caroline felt able to relax, and she sat back in the seat, her eyes sliding over to him, as he now gave the horses their head. She gazed at his long, strong fingers, cased in fine leather driving gloves, as they held the reins.

  “We cannot keep this pace up indefinitely, but I think it best to let them stretch their legs,” observed his lordship. “Are you comfortable?”

  “As comfortable as it is possible to be, under the circumstances,” said Caroline.

  “Which circumstances are making you uncomfortable?” he asked. “The elopement, the carriage, or my company?”

  Caroline shrugged. “All of them, I suppose. That Cecilia should be such a fool infuriates me, and I do not care to feel beholden to you.” She paused. “The carriage is far more bearable than I had thought it might be, however.”

  Tristan laughed. “I must be glad for that, I suppose. And you do not need to feel beholden to me. For some reason I have conceived a fondness for several members of your ridiculous but entertainingly unpredictable family, and I am glad to be of service.”

  “But I feel it nonetheless,” said Caroline. “I know that you are doing me the greatest possible kindness, and that you have no obligation to do so.”

  He shook his head. “Caro, I would say I do it for love of you, but you would only tell me that I do not love you. Please allow me to do this for you, and speak no more of it.”

  Caroline bit her lip. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  “Now, I believe we should discuss something else,” said Tristan. “That topic is one we have covered too many times. Did you know that Lord Barford arrived shortly after you left me with your mother? And that I basely abandoned her with him?”

  Caroline chuckled. “No, I had no idea. I wonder what he made of our activities?”

  “As I exited the scene immediately, your charming mother was left to attempt to satisfy Barford’s curiosity about Miss Ashdown’s whereabouts, my presence, and why she was apparently presiding over your drawing room. “

  “Poor Mama,” responded Caro with a smile. “I’m sure that even her formidable social skills were somewhat taxed. However, one advantage of being a duchess is that no one will feel entirely comfortable pursuing an awkward line of questioning with one, if properly discouraged. And she is very good at discouraging inquiries.”

  Caroline’s concern for Cecilia’s future made the time pass quickly as she and Gresham drove northward. The weather was pleasant, and she watched the countryside sliding past, green and sunlit. They changed horses at Hatfield, and were on their way again, though Tristan found time to slip into the posting house and obtain a lunch, neatly packed in a basket, for Caroline. She ate it gratefully, for she had no idea when or where their trip might end. When they changed horses a second time, the sun had begun to set, and Tristan tucked a blanket about Caroline’s legs.

  “I hope that we will not have to travel into the night,” he said. “But you had best be prepared for the worst. Are you very tired?”

  Caroline, who was a bit fatigued from the jolting of the curricle, set her shoulders firmly. “I will not ask you to slow, my lord,” she said. “I asked to accompany you, and I will not be the one to cry off.”

  “Brave girl,” he said. “I hope to catch them soon.”

  They stopped at several inns, but found no sign of Cecilia. As they neared Sawtry, an inn appeared out of the dusk, the lights glowing in its windows and a post chaise drawn up before it.

  “Ah, perhaps we will have luck this time,” said Tristan. He wheeled the curricle up to the inn, and the host appeared on the porch while an ostler ran to the horses’ heads. If the innkeeper was surprised to see a man and a woman together in an open carriage so late in the evening, he said nothing; their appearance spoke of quality, and money to be made, and he knew better than to question them.

  Tristan jumped down from the curricle and approached the landlord, who bowed low. “Did a couple come through here traveling north?” he asked. “The young lady has dark hair and the gentleman is tall and slender.”

  The innkeeper hesitated, but Tristan’s air of authority and the commanding look in his eyes convinced him it would be best to tell the truth.

  “A young lady and gentleman have stopped,” he ventured. “They took the private room and are having dinner now.”

  “Ah, excellent.” He returned to the curricle and handed Caroline down from it. “I believe we may have run our quarry to ground.”

  “Oh.” Caroline shook out her skirts and looked around. She had not previously thought about what would happen when they caught up to Cecilia. “What do we do now?”

  “Do you imagine me to be in the habit of halting elopements?” asked Lord Gresham. “I have never done this before, but I would guess that we stop them.”

  He escorted Caroline up to the inn, where the landlord bowed low to her. He looked from her to Lord Gresham’s severe face. “Will there be trouble?” he asked.

  “I trust not,” said Lord Gresham. “But you might want to stay out of the way. Where is the room?”

  “Down the hall and to the right,” said the innkeeper, who promptly returned to the kitchen, where he informed his wife that he knew that something was wrong with that young couple the moment he laid eyes on them.

  Tristan walked down the hall, his booted heels ringing on the floor. He reached the door to the private room, and looked down at Caroline.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  She nodded apprehensively.

  Tristan rapped on the door imperiously and waited a moment. There was the sound of a chair scraping along the floor and some muffled words. When there was no other response, he turned the handle and entered the room.

  A pleasant oak-beamed room presented itself, with wooden floors and a blazing fireplace. Candles burned in the brackets on the walls and over the table, on which a hearty meal had been laid. Cecilia, dressed in traveling garb, stood by the fireplace and Mr. Wyman stood by the table, slightly flushed. Both turned to the door, their faces startled.

  “Oh! Caroline!” shrieked Cecilia, and flew across the room to throw herself onto Caroline’s surprised chest.

  Caroline exchanged a startled glance with Tristan, and then put her arms around the girl. “What is it, child?” she asked. She looked up to see Tristan bearing down on Mr. Wyman with a stern look in his eyes.

  “Mr. Wyman he—he—” sobbed Cecilia.

  “He what?” asked Caroline, alarmed.

  “He tried to kiss me!” wailed Cecilia.

  Tristan halted in his tracks and turned to stare at her. Caroline blinked.

  “Well, you did elope with him,” she ventured.

  “But we are not married yet!” said Cecilia. “I told him that he must wait, and he called me childish!”

  “All I wanted was a kiss,” said Mr. Wyman sulkily. “It didn’t seem a lot to ask, given the circumstances. But she acted as though I was about to ravish her.”

  “And did this happen just before we arrived?” asked Caroline.

  “No,” sobbed Cecilia. “He tried to kiss me in the carriage as well!”

  Tristan gritted his teeth. “Did he force you?” he asked.

  “Of course I didn’t,” said Mr. Wyman hotly. “I couldn’t have her running off when I’m just about to marry her. But it seemed as though, since we are to be wed, that she might be more forthcoming.”

  “I believe we can dispense with your opinion,” said Tristan, glaring at him. Mr. Wyman subsided, muttering angrily, and poured himself another glass of wine.

  “Since we’ve been here at the inn, he’s been drinking,” said Cecilia. “And he’s been very rude to me.”

  “She won’t stop crying,” said Mr. Wyman. “You would drink too, Gresham.”

  “I would have had the sense not to run off with a child barely out of the schoolroom,” said Tristan firmly.

  “I am not a child!” protested Cecilia.

  “She’s right abou
t that,” said Mr. Wyman. “I’ve never seen a child with such a sharp tongue.”

  “Well, you are a boor and a bully,” retorted Cecilia. “He told me I brought too much baggage!”

  “We were eloping, not going away to Brighton for a month!” said Mr. Wyman. “You had no need of all that luggage. I have no idea how you got it out of the house without being seen.”

  “How was I to know when we would return?” demanded Cecilia. “One must dress.”

  Tristan raised a hand. “As scintillating as this conversation is, I believe we can dispense with it. Am I to understand, Miss Ashdown, that you no longer wish to marry Mr. Wyman?”

  Cecilia looked up defiantly from the circle of Caroline’s arms, tears shimmering on her lashes. “I’d as soon marry a cowhand!” she declared.

  “Well, I’ve no desire to be wed to a termagant, no matter how rich she is,” interjected Wyman.

  “Rich? I am not rich!” said Cecilia. “You wanted to marry me for love! You said so!”

  “Of course I said I loved you; one has to when one asks a girl to elope! But I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t know you had a fortune coming to you!” cried Mr. Wyman. “What a fool you are!”

  “I am not a fool,” wailed Cecilia, beginning to cry again. “Nor am I rich. I have no idea why you would think I am!”

  “All of London talks of the money your cousin has settled on you!” said Mr. Wyman.

  “That is a lie and you are a hateful…liar! Lord Gresham, I wish you would horsewhip him!”

  Mr. Wyman paled slightly and looked at Tristan, who shook his head. “As delightful as that sounds, I believe I will abstain. Unless you wish me to, Lady Eskmaine?”

  Caroline’s eyes met Tristan’s over Cecilia’s head, and she had to suppress a smile. “Thank you, but there is no need. She has come to no harm.”

  “No harm! He deceived me!” cried Cecilia.

  “Count yourself lucky that is all that happened,” said Caroline reprovingly. “You might have married this man, or, even worse, he might have ravished you.”

  Cecilia pouted. “All I wished to do was have an adventure, and to—to—not bother you anymore, Caroline.”