by Jade Lee
Caroline cursed under her breath. “He cannot require that of you or me.”
“No, he can’t!” Lady Anne exclaimed. “But don’t you see? I want you to. I want you to be with me.”
Caroline was taken aback. Certainly, she and Lady Anne had become friends of a sort. They had worked closely together—mistress and housekeeper—for the last two years. In truth, Caroline had arrived at nearly the same time as Lady Anne, having been hired because his lordship’s other housekeeper had not been up to the task of a staff this size. But that didn’t mean they were close friends. It only meant that they worked well together.
“My lady, please be reasonable.”
“It is you who I don’t understand,” her mistress cried. “I had no idea you were related to a duke!”
“Lady Anne—”
“No, listen.” She abruptly reached forward and grabbed Caroline’s hands. “I am rather shy around the haut ton—”
“You are no such thing.”
Lady Anne grimaced. “Very well, I am not shy, but I am not well-spoken around them either.”
Caroline didn’t respond because to agree would be rude. And she did agree. Lady Anne was generally not a tactful woman.
Meanwhile, her mistress twisted her hands in her lap. “You can help me. I…” She swallowed. “You know when I am being tactless. Don’t shake your head. You know you do. I swear, if it is you, I will listen. With your help, I think I could make a credible showing this Season.”
It took a moment for Caroline to understand the truth. Indeed, she wondered why she had taken so long to figure out what was really going on. “You want me to be silent when you visit Mr. Pike. You want me to lie to your brother.”
“Not lie!” Lady Anne cried. “Never that. But, um, perhaps if you could neglect to notice…”
“Lady Anne, that is neither honest nor proper, and you know it.”
Lady Anne abruptly grasped Caroline’s hands. “Please, you must say yes. We shall have so much fun, you and I. Pretty dresses, balls, the theater. When in your life could you ever do such a thing? Only now. Only with me.”
It was true. And there it was again. The fondest dream of her childhood held out before her. If she did not have scars on her chest, she would have leaped into the fray at his lordship’s first offer. But she did, and because of that night so long ago, she tried to stay back.
“You know, I’m not really a Mrs.,” Caroline said softly. “I’ve never been married. Never…” She bit her lip, knowing she couldn’t confess all, but she had to warn Lady Anne about the truth. “If anyone ever looks closely into my past—”
“Pish posh! No one will look into your past. You are my companion. They will look at me and assume Gregory has done his work with you.”
“But what if it comes out…” Her voice trailed away as she touched the bodice of her dress above her scars.
“It won’t. Whatever happened, whatever your secret is, no one will know. If you get an offer of marriage, then, of course, the man will do his own investigation.”
Caroline felt her face drain of color. “My lady, I cannot marry someone!”
Lady Anne waved her to silence. “Leave that for later. Right now, you must understand that this is the haut ton. Forgive me, but no one will look twice at a housekeeper turned companion. No one will delve into your past. No one will ask about…” She buttoned her lips, but both knew what she had been about to say.
No one would ask about her scars. No one would have that awkward, unbelievable conversation they’d had not two nights ago when Caroline passed off the marks as a childhood mishap. No one would look. And if that was true, then perhaps, it was possible. Perhaps she could touch—just for a time—the world she’d been denied.
“Will you do it?” Lady Anne asked, her heart in her eyes. “Please say you will. The Season starts in just a week, and there is ever so much to do to get ready.”
Caroline bit her lip, thinking hard. It was true that someone needed to moderate Lady Anne’s wilder personality while still reporting to his lordship. That someone could be her. Indeed, she was qualified to understand both brother and sister. But could she step back into the world and not come out with worse scars?
“You are thinking of it,” crowed Lady Anne. “I can see it in your eyes. You want to be my friend!”
Well, put like that, how could she refuse? Of course, she wanted to be Lady Anne’s friend. And she wanted to go to a ball wearing a beautiful gown. And she thought perhaps she could play with the monkeys for a short time and not face total disaster. “Oh, very well,” she finally said with a girlish laugh. “Yes, I should like to be your companion, Lady Anne.”
“Excellent!” her ladyship squealed. Then she leaned forward. “We must start planning. You know we shall constantly be in my brother’s company this Season. Never think he will trust me on my own.”
“Of course—”
“—but there are many ways to give the man the slip. Why, just the other day—”
“We shall not be slipping away from anyone, my lady,” Caroline said, her voice as firm as she could make it. Lord, she had not expected to admonish the woman already!
“No, no,” Lady Anne quickly answered. “I shall be the model of decorum. And you, Caroline, will distract his lordship quite perfectly.”
Caroline folded her arms as she glared at her new “friend.” “I will not deceive his lordship.”
“Of course not!” Lady Anne responded. Then she hopped to her feet with a grin. “This Season is going to be so much fun! I’m going to make a list right now of the places we are going and what clothing we shall need. I have such ideas!” she cried. Then, quick as that, she waved good-bye and was gone.
Caroline stared at her empty doorway and released a slow breath. She was supposed to moderate Lady Anne? Good Lord, she was doomed!
Three
Something was very wrong. Gregory frowned at the latest stack of scientific papers delivered this morning and knew from the bottom of his heart that some nameless, terrible thing would soon occur.
His sister had thrown herself into preparations for the Season. She had ordered dresses for herself and Mrs. Lyncott, started gabbing at meals about this ball or that musicale, and was right now devoting herself to time with the dance master. In short, she was doing everything exactly as she ought, and that worried him deeply.
His sister never did everything as she ought, and therefore, she had thought of something devious. He was sure, so with a groan of disgust, he abandoned his papers in favor of the parlor.
He stood at the door, watching as the master hummed a tune, while putting Anne through her paces in a country-dance. Gregory watched closely, seeing her flushed cheeks and the way she laughed with good cheer as she turned the wrong way.
“Oh bother!” she cried.
“No, no, my lady. You are doing fine. Come back this way.”
His sister complied, her steps light and her expression happy. Gregory frowned, considering the picture. His sister looked happy. After the devastating grief she’d suffered two years ago, this was indeed a welcome sight. Was he the veriest cad for mistrusting it?
He was about to turn away when Mrs. Lyncott came bustling forward. She hastily pulled off her apron and curtsied quickly before rushing into the parlor.
“My apologies,” she said in a breathless voice. “My lord, my lady, Mr. de Bris. I am so sorry to be tardy.”
“Goodness, Caroline,” Anne said. “You’re doing triple duty now, what with training a new housekeeper and readying for the Season. I am sure we all understand.”
“Thank you, my lady,” Caroline said as she took a deep breath.
Gregory said nothing. He simply watched, his gaze taking in rosy cheeks, a graceful body, and a strand of golden brown hair escaping her pins. This woman was his housekeeper—now his sister’s companion—and his body tightened at the si
ght of her. He noted the curve of her breasts, the shift of her hips, and even the tight bunch of her bottom outlined by her skirt. His groin tightened, his mouth went dry, and the images that flashed through his mind were highly inappropriate. What was it about this woman that mesmerized him?
He tried to analyze the question as he might a math problem. Her features were lovely, of course, but that was true of many women. She moved with grace, yet again, that was not uncommon. And when she smiled…
“Well, don’t just stand there, Gregory. Come join us. We need an extra person.”
Gregory jolted, startled to realize he’d lost several moments staring at Mrs. Lyncott. Good God, he was addled. Meanwhile, his sister’s eyes sparkled as she pulled him into the parlor.
“I’m afraid I’m completely hopeless at this. I can never remember the steps.”
“Nonsense, my lady,” inserted the dancing master. “You simply get lost in the music. That is an excellent thing, you know. So many fail to appreciate the tune.”
Gregory thought the man was doing it much too brown. After all, who got lost in a man’s humming? But it didn’t matter. So long as his sister applied herself, he knew she’d eventually figure it out. God knows, he’d been put through these particular paces time and time again before he’d gotten them right.
They formed up for the set with him partnering Mrs. Lyncott. Mr. de Bris hummed while his sister chattered something or other. Gregory didn’t know what she said because the answer hit him right between the eyes. Just as the humming began, he saw the reason why he was entranced with his housekeeper. She took a breath, closed her eyes, and then straightened her shoulders. By the time she opened them, his housekeeper had abruptly become magnificent.
He didn’t know how she did it. One moment, she was simply a lovely servant. The next, she stood, then curtsied, then danced as regally as any lady of the ton. There was a tilt to her chin, a confidence in her eyes, and a thousand tiny changes that he couldn’t name, but he saw the transformation as clear as day.
Mrs. Lyncott was aristocracy, for all that she’d grown up in the lower classes. And with that inborn elegance, she became the most mysterious, most beautiful, most alluring woman he’d ever known.
Which naturally sent his lust soaring.
This time he was the one to miss his step, his faculties deserting him. Anne laughed, crowing that he had clearly spent too much time on science. He had no response. His throat was too constricted for speech, his eyes still dazzled by his lady partner.
They formed up again, and this time he managed to keep his feet going where they were supposed to. He made no pretense of grace, and of course, Mrs. Lyncott didn’t comment. All too soon, the touch of their hands and the steps of the dance had him thinking of other dances—those done in a bedroom with a lover.
Then Mr. de Bris was clapping his hands. “Excellent, my lady. I believe you have an understanding of that. And now—”
“Oh, might we practice the waltz please, Mr. de Bris? I am not sure I have the steps quite right.”
“But my lady—”
“Gregory, you partner with Mrs. Lyncott. I’m afraid this is the one dance she hasn’t ever tried.”
“But—”
“And Mr. de Bris, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”
“Nonsense, my lady. It is a great honor.”
Gregory threw his sister a dark look. What was she about? Throwing Mrs. Lyncott into his arms. But he saw nothing except Anne’s big smile as she stepped into the dance master’s arms. Perhaps he had it backwards. Perhaps she was attracted to the rather handsome master. The man did have a lovely humming voice. And Anne certainly had some rather democratic leanings…
His thoughts stuttered to a halt as Mrs. Lyncott stepped before him. “Let me apologize in advance, my lord, if I tread upon your toes. This is not a dance I practiced as a child.”
“Never fear,” he said with a smile. “I have been stomped upon by horses. I am sure I won’t even notice.”
To the side, his sister burst out laughing. “Did you just compare Mrs. Lyncott to a horse? Really Gregory, if that is your notion of polite banter, it is no wonder you have never wed.”
His housekeeper-turned-queen released a laugh that was lighthearted even as it held a note of censure. “He did no such thing, Lady Anne, and well you know it. I find his lordship’s discourse to be intelligent and economical.”
Anne’s peal of laughter had Gregory sighing in dismay. Especially as his sister echoed his thoughts exactly.
“Intelligent and economical! I am sure that is the secret desire of every young lady.”
“Perhaps,” Gregory cut in, “I am looking at an adult woman, not a child.” His tone left no doubt as to who was the child and who was the adult.
Naturally, Anne was not deterred. “Let us hope for the continuation of our line that your dancing is at least more romantic than your discourse. Unless you have stumbled upon a matrimonial secret of which I am unaware.”
“Anne—”
“Can you not see that she is fishing, my lord?” Mrs. Lyncott said in an undertone. “Just as you worry for her future happiness, she is concerned about yours.”
He blinked, startled as he focused on the woman stepping into his arms. Damnation, he had been trying to avoid looking at her, which was ridiculous given that they were about to dance a waltz. If he kept his attention on his sister, he would not be seduced into highly inappropriate speculation about his housekeeper.
Now that she’d said something altogether startling he had no choice. Her words echoed in his mind, shifting his perspective and jolting him into a shocked freeze. “She—what?”
But there was no time as the dancing master began to hum a lilting waltz.
“Um,” Gregory managed, “settle your hand securely on my shoulder. It is entirely proper and makes the dance easier.” He had no idea if that was really true. He simply preferred her to touch him solidly, not perched like a bird about to fly.
She nodded and did as he bid, and he swept her about the room. There was no pause between thought and action. She was in his arms, and therefore, he moved. In concert. With her.
She started out awkwardly, but a moment later, it was as if they had been dancing together their entire lives. Her body swayed with his, naturally allowing him to lead, but giving no more quarter than that. And as she matched his strength, he danced in a way he’d never done before. A swirling, spinning, dizzying whirl of movement, and yet the two were the most solid center of an unimportant other. Let the world spin away—all he saw were her eyes, her lips, her presence as their gazes locked and held.
He watched as her lips parted in a gasp of surprise. Then her expression softened into delight. Her body as well. He felt the heat of her against him, even as they twirled about the room, and when the music stopped, he found he had no interest in slowing.
He tightened his hold and shortened his steps, and as they slowed—still moving—he found himself dipping toward her.
She came back to herself before he did. He did not remember they were in a parlor with his sister and a damned dancing master as witnesses. Not until she stiffened in his arms, drawing back, while the stupid man cleared his throat for perhaps the second or third time.
“Goodness, Gregory,” his sister said, her voice soft.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Lyncott’s face was flaming. She turned toward his sister in the most awkward movement he’d ever seen her make and executed a stiff curtsey.
“Please forgive me, my lady. I’m afraid I have left some orders unattended. I must make them immediately. Otherwise, there will be no meat this week.”
“Of course,” Anne answered, her eyes narrowed. Then while Caroline fled, his sister turned to the master. “I think I have had enough dancing for today, Master de Bris. I shall contact you if I feel the need for more instruction.”
The man took
his cue, exiting as quickly as possible. Which left Gregory alone in the parlor with his sister. It was not where he wanted to be. He wanted to rush after his housekeeper and return to the…the what? Intimate tempo of their waltz? Or something a good deal more carnal?
The answer to that was obvious, and so he stood there in the parlor waiting for the dressing-down his sister was sure to give him. For once, he relished the idea of a relation giving him what for. He certainly deserved it, and it would be a welcome relief from his own thoughts.
Instead, his sister crossed to him, taking his hand with a tender touch as she led him to the settee. “We have never talked about Cora’s death, you and I.”
“What?” His mind would not latch on to her words, and when he heard them in his head, they made even less sense.
She settled herself on the settee, still holding his hands. When she spoke, she looked at where their hands touched, not at his eyes. “Do you know what I remember of the funeral? You stood with a blank expression on your face. Oh, certainly you did all that was polite. You were there beside Thomas, of course, helping him however he needed.”
“He’d just lost his wife.”
“Yes, of course, he had. And you did everything that was proper, taking care of the financial details and all that. But when that was all done, I remember you standing there—in the parlor, in the church, and later, by her gravestone. You just stood, as if the part of you that was my brother was gone.”
He pulled back. “Gone? Anne, I was right there. I am right here.”
“Yes, brother, I see that. But your heart has not been. Do you understand? Your heart has been locked away, never to peek out again.”
He snorted. “You are being fanciful.”
“Yes, I am often fanciful, but that has nothing to do with you.”
“Anne—”
“For the last two years, I have seen you read your scientific papers, work with great animation doing your experiments, and chat quite amiably with your friends. You have been the model of propriety, behaving as an earl ought.”
He sighed. He did it quite loudly. She must have heard, but she continued as if he had not made the veriest peep.
