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

by Alicia Quigley

  “Well, you have made quite a bother now,” said Caroline acidly. Her voice softened. “But I am glad you are unhurt.”

  Tristan turned to Mr. Wyman and smiled unpleasantly. “I believe your presence is no longer required,” he said. “As a matter of fact, you are decidedly de trop. If you do not wish to be horsewhipped simply to amuse Miss Ashdown, I suggest you return to London, and remain silent about this incident. Leave the carriage; I’m sure the landlord can supply you with a horse. I will see that any baggage of yours is brought to your rooms.”

  “Oh, yes, certainly.” Mr. Wyman gave Cecilia and Caroline an anxious glance, and beat a hasty retreat.

  Gresham Caroline and Cecilia watched him go, for a few moments silence reigned. Cecilia seemed to realize that there was nothing she could say to improve matters, and gazed down at the floor, as Gresham and Caroline exchanged a long glance over her head.

  Finally, Caroline spoke. “What a fine gentleman,” she said caustically. “I wonder you let yourself be so deceived, Cecilia.”

  “That is not fair,” protested Cecilia. “He is very handsome and well-spoken, and he said he loved me.”

  “Which, of course, is all that is required in a husband,” said Caroline. “My dear, you have been very foolish, and it is only by chance and the kindness of Lord Gresham that you are not ruined.”

  Cecilia caught her breath with a tiny hiccup and dashed away a few tears. “That is not fair!” she exclaimed. “You do as you please, why should I not do the same?”

  “Because I am a widow, and as such have far greater license than a silly girl just out of the schoolroom. In addition, I have spent a decade building a reputation for prudence, common sense, and an even temperament, besides being much wiser than you,” said Caroline. “Fortunately for you, these things make it permissible for me to travel alone with Lord Gresham to rescue you from the consequences of actions you surely can see were very wrong and the cause of a great deal of inconvenience to others.”

  “Of course I am sorry about that, but it is a mistake anyone could have made!” exclaimed Cecilia.

  “Anyone might have eloped?” asked Caroline incredulously.

  Tristan, who had been leaning on the edge of the table, his arms folded and a sardonic look on his face, stood up.

  “My girl, you had best make a better apology to your cousin than that. She has been very worried about you, and has risked her own comfort and reputation to find you,” he said. “Which is more than she should have done for an ungrateful child.”

  “Ungrateful!” Cecilia gasped and moved out of Caroline’s embrace. “How dare you!”

  “How dare I? If I told you what I truly thought of your behavior, you would doubtless be attempting to recruit that ridiculous swain of yours to the task of horsewhipping me,” he snapped.

  “You are trying to make me out to be a fool, but I know what the two of you have been doing! I would not have eloped if it were not for you!” exclaimed Cecilia, her voice trembling.

  Caroline looked at Cecilia’s flushed face, and sighed. “Lord Gresham, we are being too hard on her. She is overwrought and tired, and doubtless had quite a fright, and is not in a frame of mind to permit a rational conversation. Truth be told, I expect neither you nor I are either. It would be best if I discussed this with her when she is calmer.”

  “I am not overwrought and I was not frightened!” insisted Cecilia. “You are being very cruel to me!”

  Caroline was eyeing the wine thoughtfully, when she heard the sound of footsteps in the hall, and turned to the door to see Lord Barford standing there. Her jaw dropped open slightly.

  Cecilia, whose eyes had been fixed on Caroline’s face, followed her gaze. “Barford!” she cried, and flew across the room. The viscount looked startled, but received her gladly enough in his arms.

  Tristan exchanged a glance with Caroline, who shrugged.

  “Oh, Barford, you have come for me!” breathed Cecilia.

  The viscount put one arm around her shoulders, and looked at Caroline and Lord Gresham. “I understood Miss Ashdown might have need of me,” he ventured.

  “Yes, I imagine she might,” said Lord Gresham. “You may now rescue her from her rescuers.”

  “Excuse me?” asked Lord Barford, puzzled.

  Caroline shook off her bemusement. “Lord Barford, how good to see you,” she said politely. “May I ask how you came to follow us?”

  “The dowager duchess, while reluctant to speak on such a delicate subject, at my insistence let me know that Miss Ashdown had been grossly deceived by Mr. Wyman and had been all but abducted by him. While she assured me that you, Lady Eskmaine, had the matter well in hand, upon reflection I felt it would be best if I also pursued them, in case your efforts were not fruitful.”

  “Abducted?” said Caroline. “Oh yes, she was certainly abducted. Were you not, Cecilia?”

  Cecilia looked up at Barford with glowing eyes. “How very brave of you to come after me,” she said.

  Lord Gresham sighed and helped himself to a glass of wine. Lazily, he poured a second, and brought it to Caroline.

  “And so, our efforts are as naught,” he murmured.

  Caroline accepted the wine gratefully. “I suppose we should be glad,” she replied softly, and drained the glass.

  Barford looked at them doubtfully and shuffled his feet. “Lady Eskmaine, my actions may seem less peculiar if I let you know that I have been awaiting the return of the Duke of Gravesmere to town in order to ask if I may pay my addresses to his cousin. In light of my feelings toward Miss Ashdown, I could hardly allow such a calamity to befall her.”

  “You wish to marry me?” asked Cecilia breathlessly. “Oh, how wonderful.”

  “And thus, all our troubles come to an end,” said Lord Gresham, drawing Caroline a few paces away. “I might have stayed in my comfortable house and you might have been spared great deal of aggravation.”

  “But they are so young and so—” Caroline broke off.

  “Ridiculous?” asked Tristan.

  She laughed. “I was going to say heedless, but ridiculous might do.”

  “Caroline, Lord Barford wishes to marry me!” exclaimed Cecilia, her face now wreathed in smiles.

  “Yes, I heard him, dear,” said Caroline. “Are you inclined to accept him?”

  “Oh, yes. He was so brave to come after me. I feel sure if he had found Mr. Wyman here, he would have fought him, and run him through with his sword! Would you not, Lord Barford?”

  Lord Barford blinked at the thought, but hastened to assure Cecilia of his bloodthirstiness, especially since Wyman was apparently gone. “Certainly, I would not have hesitated,” he said.

  “Oh, Barford,” Cecilia rested her head on his chest. “When we return to London you can call him out!”

  Lord Barford’s eyes widened and Caroline stepped in hastily. “That would engender gossip, and we must not have that. Lord Barford will simply have to rein in his temper.”

  Lord Barford shot Caroline a grateful glance, and then turned a regretful face to Cecilia. “Unfortunately, Lady Eskmaine is correct. It would only sully your name, and the next Viscountess Barford must be above reproach.”

  “What a pity,” pouted Cecilia. “I would like to see him punished!”

  Caroline bit back the urge to remind her that Mr. Wyman had not abducted her. “We all would, my dear,” she said. “But I think it best for you to think of your future, rather than regretting the past.”

  “As charming as this scene is,” said Tristan, indicating Lord Barford and Cecilia, “I find that I am both hungry and tired. Lady Eskmaine, unless you wish to return to London in the dark, I think I should speak to the innkeeper about rooms for the night.”

  “Oh, yes,” said Caroline gratefully. “And dinner.”

  Chapter 26

  The landlord reappeared, bowing low and delighted to find his house suddenly full of gentry, while Caroline and Cecilia were escorted to charming bedrooms to which their luggage had been carried
. Caroline eyed the bed, and its white goose down coverlet eagerly, but, also aware of the demands of her stomach, made some hasty adjustments to her toilette before returning downstairs. She sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror, wishing she had Beckham with her, but then laughed gently at her own vanity. Lord Barford had eyes for no one but Cecilia, and Lord Gresham had spent the entire afternoon in the curricle with her as the wind blew her hair about and dust covered her clothing.

  She patted one or two stray hairs into place, and stepped resolutely out into the hallway, the thought of a warm dinner increasingly enticing. As she made her way to the stairs, another door opened, and Tristan emerged.

  “Good evening,” he said calmly. “Is your room acceptable?”

  Oh yes, it’s lovely,” she answered. “I suppose we should be grateful Mr. Wyman chose such a respectable house at which to stop.”

  “I’ve seen to my carriage and the chaise. The horses are stabled and we can leave at any time you choose in the morning. I suppose your mother will be anxious for news,” he said, offering her his arm.

  Caroline took it, her fingers resting gently on the cloth of his coat. She felt the warmth of his body and the strength of his arm under her fingers, and suppressed a flicker of regret. It had been a long, tiresome day, she thought, and at this point Lord Gresham must surely have been convinced that further involvement with her family was not to be desired. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, to find that he was watching her gravely.

  “I have to thank you again for your assistance,” she said. “While Cecilia might not realize it, she owes you a great debt.”

  “I did it for you, not for her,” said Tristan firmly. “And, it seems that Lord Barford could have rescued her as easily as we have.”

  “But if he had come upon the pair of them, I very much doubt Mr. Wyman would have supported my mother’s story, and the consequences for Cecilia may have been dire,” said Caroline.

  “Possibly,” said Tristan. “Though Barford is so infatuated that I doubt he would have listened to Wyman. Though another regrettable outcome is that Barford may have run Wyman through with his sword!”

  Caroline dimpled at this sally. “You have helped to prevent a very nasty scandal, and have brought two young lovers together,” she said. “If Cecilia is not grateful to you, please know that I am.”

  “As I would far rather have your gratitude than Miss Ashdown’s, I am content,” said Tristan.

  They had reached the door to the parlor, so Caroline was spared having to answer him. The wainscoted room was warmed by a bright fire in the hearth, and though it was now night and the shutters had been drawn, plentiful candles made the room welcoming. The remains of the earlier meal had been removed and new covers had been laid, and what appeared to Caroline to be a feast was spread out on the table. She eyed it appreciatively.

  Tristan escorted her to the table and seated her, then took a chair across from her. “The innkeeper appears to have outdone himself,” he said. “I do not plan to wait for our young lovers, as I have no idea if they mean to join us, nor do I particularly care. May I serve you some of this chicken?”

  “Please,” said Caroline. Tristan cut a slice of breast and passed the plate to her. She took a bite of the meat and a sip of wine, and sighed.

  “I have to think we are very lucky that Barford did not find out the truth of the matter,” said Caroline. “Do you think they will make a happy match of it?”

  “I can’t say the subject interests me much,” said Tristan. “They are extremely tiresome, and your Miss Ashdown has upended my day quite thoroughly. The only reason I am not angrier with her is that she has given me the opportunity to once again enjoy your company.”

  Caroline looked uncomfortable. “Tristan, you must not—”“

  He held up one hand. “You need not tell me again of your objections to my suit,” he said. “I believe you have made yourself clear; you do not wish to give up the freedoms you enjoy to join yourself to a disreputable rake. However, I wish you to know that my sentiments have not undergone a change, and if yours should at any time do so, I will be glad of it.”

  Caroline studied her plate, unable to meet his eyes. He laughed, an edge of bitterness to it.

  “But Caro, you must know that I won’t wear the willow for you,” he continued. “You have told me no, and I have taken you at your word. So, I will be on my way.”

  Caroline blinked away the tear that threatened to well up. “Why can we not continue to meet?” she asked. “You say you will be on your way, but I would be glad to join you in Mount Street.”

  “I no longer wish that from you,” he said. “I do not mind taking my pleasure where I find it; I have lived my life that way. But from you I want more, and I will not settle for half measures.”

  Caroline looked up at that, indignant. “So you would bed Sylvia Lansdowne, but not me?”

  Tristan took a sip of wine. “Precisely.”

  “Well, that is—that is the greatest piece of nonsense I’ve ever heard,” said Caroline.

  “Perhaps it is,” he said agreeably. “But Sylvia means nothing to me, and knows it is all a game. With you, however, I am in deadly earnest.”

  Caroline glared at him, and he chuckled. “Come, my dear, don’t look daggers at me. If you will not give me what I want, why should I cater to your whims?”

  “I would hardly call—that—a whim!” protested Caroline.

  Tristan shook his head and returned to his dinner, while Caroline fumed silently across the table from him. How dare he tell her to her face that he would happily be with other women, but not with her? He should be glad that she had not agreed to marry him; surely he, of all people, knew that his attachment to her could not possibly last? He should be grateful that she did not accept his offer, for in six months he would only want to leave her. And where would she be then? Married, and hopelessly in thrall to a man who no longer wanted her. She made an exasperated noise, and Tristan looked at her.

  “Would you care for more of this pasty?” he asked politely.

  “No, of course not,” she said. “Tristan—”

  But the door opened then and Lord Barford entered, looking slightly embarrassed. “Miss Ashdown has gone to bed,” he said. “She said she ate earlier, and wanted to rest. The poor girl has had an unpleasant adventure today.”

  “Ah, Barford, please join us,” said Tristan civilly. “I gather that I should offer you my felicitations.”

  The viscount bowed. “I thank you. Our official engagement must await the approval of the duke, but I trust that he will have no objections.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he will have none at all,” said Caroline, reflecting that when Adam heard the whole tale he would be more than happy to have Cecilia off his hands.

  Lord Barford joined them at the table, and the talk turned to polite generalities and his approaching nuptials. At the end of the meal, when the sweetmeats had been consumed, Caroline hesitated, but Lord Gresham and Lord Barford were chatting over a bottle of burgundy, and she felt decidedly out of place. She stood up, and the gentlemen did so as well.

  “I am tired and will go to my room,” she said quietly. “Pray, continue your conversation.”

  Tristan stepped forward and took her hand, kissing it gently. “I’m sure you will sleep well after today’s adventures, Lady Eskmaine.”

  “Thank you again, Lord Gresham,” she said. She looked up, catching his eye, but saw nothing there to indicate his thoughts. She wished fervently that Lord Barford were not in the room.

  Tristan smiled briefly, and Caroline, after saying goodnight to Lord Barford, left the parlor. She slowly climbed the stairs to the low timbered hall onto which the bedchambers opened, and paused to tap gently on Cecilia’s door.

  “Who is it?” asked Cecilia.

  “Caroline. I am on my way to bed, and wanted to make sure you are comfortable,” she responded.

  The door opened, and Cecilia stood before her in a nightdress and wrapper. “I’m
fine,” she said. She paused for a moment. “Thank you so much for saving me. I know I have been foolish, and will try to deserve my good fortune in receiving Barford’s proposal.”

  Caroline looked at her solemn face. “Least said, soonest mended, my dear, but now you must truly leave these follies behind,” she said calmly. “You will soon be a peer’s wife, and have greater responsibilities to assume. Strive to live out what you have just said to me in your future actions.”

  Cecilia nodded. “I will try to remember,” she said.

  “This is a public house, see that you bar the door and do not open it for anyone but the chambermaid in the morning, or me,” Caroline reminded her prosaically. “And don’t forget to put out your candle.” She waited until Cecilia closed the door, and she heard the latch drop on the inside, then opened the neighboring door and entered her chamber. Her valise rested on a bench at the foot of the bed, and Caroline suddenly felt a wave of weariness wash over her.

  She latched her door, just as she had bade Cecilia, and struggled out of her dress, then walked to the washbasin, making the best attempt possible to clean the day’s dust from her face and arms. As she washed, Caroline heard Barford and Gresham bidding each other good night at the top of the stairs, and then Tristan’s firm steps as he continued down the passage, walking past her door, to enter the chamber across the hall.

  Extracting a nightdress from the valise, she dropped it over her head, then checked to make sure the maid had hung her clean dress for the return trip to London properly in the wardrobe. She undid her hair and brushed it thoroughly, and afterwards plaited it loosely and tied it with a ribbon. Finally, she turned back the coverlet on the bed and was thankful to find that it was clean and scented with lavender, and that the sheets had been properly warmed. She crawled into bed, pulling the coverlet up to her nose, and lay back with every expectation of falling asleep immediately, only to find that state elusive.

  As Caroline closed her eyes, instead of relaxing, she felt the everlasting jolting of the curricle on the long drive, and saw the road and the countryside unreeling before her. Her back felt stiff, and one elbow was sore from clutching the side of the seat when the carriage negotiated turns. She remembered Gresham’s steady hands on the reins and his unwavering focus as they pursued Cecilia, and felt a sudden flush of heat as she recalled the other pleasures that those his skillful hands could provide.