"Well isn't this just the prettiest house you ever saw?"
The jarring voice from outside the door was enough to shatter the atmosphere into a million pieces.
Caroline felt the loss keenly as Tom took a slow and seemingly reluctant step away from her.
He smiled sadly at her.
"I should go and see to my guests. Miss Noble is not the most patient of creatures."
Caroline nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
Tom hesitated as if he wanted to say something but stopped himself and sighed.
"Will you join us in the drawing room?"
"Yes, of course," she answered clearing her throat past the sudden lump. "I shall come directly."
"Good, well I shall see you in a moment or two then."
He gazed at her for another second, then turned and walked out, closing the door softly behind him.
Strange how he was only going to the other room, she would see him but shortly. And yet, that had felt like goodbye.
Tom stood for a moment outside the morning room's door, trying to school his features into their usual, slightly insolent mask.
There was no denying it any longer. It was the most painfully tragic thing in the world. He loved, adored, worshipped her.
The only thing that had changed in all that time away from her was that his love had grown in depth and strength. And now? Now he felt that he could not even breathe without her.
So where did that leave him? Lost and desolate, that's where.
He wanted nothing more than to march back into that room and tell her he loved her. Beg her to reconsider him. Plead with her to see beyond a title and see a man so desperately in love with her that he would do anything, anything to make her his.
He knew her now, far more than he had two years ago.
He knew that she hadn't rejected him because she was mercenary or snobbish or wicked. She had felt the pressure of familial duty and had bowed to it.
Would she do any differently now? Could she?
He knew her father's health was still a source of great worry. He knew that she considered it her responsibility to carry out his wishes.
But would another man make her happy? He would certainly never try as hard to as Tom would.
He was sure that she felt something for him, but then, she had claimed to love him in the past and it hadn't been enough.
His heart would not be able to stand the rejection again. He knew it.
Was it better to love her from a distance?
God, this was excruciating.
Charlotte's high-pitched tone rang out once again through the cavernous house.
It was time he greeted his guests. More were sure to be arriving soon.
He thought, with a sickening lurch of his heart, of all the eligible gentlemen who were on their way to try to win the fair Caroline.
Bloody Rebecca! It was all her fault.
Well, he could only hope that Caroline wouldn't like any of them.
Then at least he'd have time to get away before she chose.
Because he knew now, just as surely as he knew that he would never sleep another night without having her in his dreams, that he would not, could not stay and see her marry.
He had thought he was strong enough to do it. Thought that he could settle into his life here, surround himself with family and be happy. He had thought that he'd moved on.
What a bloody idiot he'd been.
But it was asking far too much of himself.
No, he would have to leave again. His heart begged for it and his sanity demanded it.
He would leave.
And this time, he would stay away.
Caroline entered the drawing room having had a firm conversation with herself.
Yes, she had fantasised about running away and hiding on the vast grounds somewhere but logically it would probably only result in a search and a pretty quick discovery.
No, she had to face the Nobles sooner or later and though later was infinitely preferable she had told Tom that she would come. And so she had.
The first thing she noticed was that Charlotte Noble looked as beautiful as ever. The second thing was that she was sitting far too close to Tom on the sofa.
At the sound of her entrance the occupants had stood to greet her. She exchanged pleasantries with Mr. Noble, who was as jolly and friendly as ever, and civil chitchat with Miss Noble who had, to Caroline's chagrin, kept hold of Tom's arm for the entirety of their exchange.
"Are you tired from your journey, Miss Noble?" she asked politely.
"Not terribly, Miss Carrington, it's not very far from London."
"I wonder that you need support then," Caroline responded, ignoring Charlotte’s insubordinate refusal to use her title, her voice dripping sugar as she looked pointedly at Caroline's grip on Tom's arm.
The other woman's eyes flashed but her smile remained fixed, though a little strained.
"How odd that you should notice such an insignificant gesture," she laughed and the sound made Caroline want to slap her.
She hardly recognised herself. She never felt violent. Charles often said he did, though he was ridiculously laid back. And Rebecca's temper was legendary. But Caroline was usually so filled with composure, at least on the outside.
There was something about this woman however, and her territorial attitude to Tom, that really brought out the worst in Caroline.
Before Caroline could answer the dowager spoke up.
"Tom was going to take Mr. and Miss Noble on a quick tour of the house, Caroline, before the other guests arrive."
Caroline's mind immediately flew to the other night when she and Tom had started — whatever it was they had started.
She found her eyes drawn to Tom at the dowager's words and her heart sped up as she caught his gaze. He was remembering too.
"Would you like to join us?" he asked softly.
Yes.
"No. Thank you." She gave no reason because she did not have one, other than not wanting to spend any more time than necessary in the company of Charlotte Noble. Especially when she was around Tom.
A sound by the door heralded the arrival of Charles and Rebecca. Edward had some urgent business to attend to and would join them later.
Caroline was childishly pleased to see that Rebecca greeted Miss Noble with icy civility rather than her usual warmth.
Tom used the opportunity of introductions to release Charlotte's hold on his arm.
"Lord Carrington, may I introduce Mr. Fred Noble and his daughter, Miss Charlotte Noble. Freddie, this is Viscount Carrington, Rebecca and Caroline's brother."
Caroline watched as Fred Noble bowed to Rebecca and Charles and watched closer as Charlotte Noble's eyes gleamed and raked over Charles, as if he were a piece of horsemeat at Tattersall's.
Charles, being the utter rake that he was, responded to Charlotte's appraisal with a broad grin and, when her father wasn't looking, a flirtatious wink.
For goodness' sake. They'd have to put him on a leash.
Caroline noticed that Rebecca was watching Charles' antics with Charlotte as well, her eyes narrowed.
Charles was most definitely in trouble now. And it served him right.
"Tom was just going to take us on a tour of his house, my lord," Charlotte purred, purred up at Charles. "Would you care to join us?"
"I believe I would," drawled Charles before taking the young woman's arm and leading her from the room.
Caroline and Rebecca shared a look.
It was going to be a long week.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
TOM FELT AS THOUGH he had been plunged into the fires of Hades itself as he dressed that evening for dinner.
He had heard word from some of his gentlemen friends. Their carriage had lost a wheel and they had sent a footman ahead to say that they would be late but were still arriving this evening.
In the meantime, he had to endure an afternoon of Charles' outrageous flirting with Charlotte, which did not bothe
r him in the slightest and in fact made him feel extremely grateful to Charles, but he knew that Fred was starting to watch and that wasn't a situation he was looking forward to getting caught in the middle of.
Not only that, but Caroline had been avoiding him since their kiss in the morning room.
In fairness, it probably wasn't him, but the company he was keeping. There was certainly no affection between the ladies currently under his roof.
He loosened his cravat. It was like watching a pride of lionesses turn on each other.
The gentlemen had been scarpering all afternoon avoiding getting caught in the crossfire of barbed comments and thinly veiled insults.
It was exhausting.
He pulled again at his suddenly too tight cravat and then sulked as his valet slapped his hand away and proceeded to retie it. Tighter, the swine.
He felt as though he were on a knife's edge.
The woman he loved, that he'd finally admitted he still loved, was avoiding him because a woman he barely liked wouldn't leave him the hell alone. Although, mercifully, Charles seemed to be doing an excellent job of keeping her occupied.
As if that wasn't bad enough, a carriage full of potential husbands for Caroline was on its way.
Never had he thought he'd be so uncomfortable in his own home.
His valet, after much fussing which always irritated Tom, deemed him presentable. Tom had learned not to criticise or comment on Philips' ministrations since he suspected the older man slowed down on purpose any time he did.
Tom made straight for his study where he intended to lock himself away until the dinner hour when he'd have to once again plaster on a smile, play the attentive host, and try not to throw himself at Caroline's feet and beg her to reconsider him.
And then, as if thinking about her had made her a reality, she was there. Gloriously, beautifully there, right in front of him.
He slowed to a stop.
She hadn't spotted him standing at the top of the stairs so he allowed himself the pleasure of just looking at her.
Her head was bowed; no doubt she was deep in thought. It was unlike her to appear from her room this early, usually she did not make an appearance until the exact time they were due downstairs.
He appreciated this punctuality. It gave him a chance to try and prepare himself for the impact of seeing her. It never worked. Every time, he was blown away all over again.
Tonight was no exception.
The colour of her dress was one of the boldest he had seen her in yet. The cerulean blue — and he only knew it was called that because he'd had to listen to his aunt rave about it earlier when the ladies had been discussing gowns — was beautifully bright against her soft, peaches and cream complexion. Her hair was a confection of twists and curls. He had no idea how she'd gone about getting it that way but it was stunning, interspersed with diamonds that glinted in the candlelight.
His eyes raked her and his entire body tightened at the image of her sinful curves, moulded as they were by the satin of her gown. It wasn't terribly low cut. But it was enough to make him thank God profusely for the gift of sight.
He could see the slightest outline of her legs as she walked towards him, fidgeting with her fan. It was enough to send his mind to places that Charles would surely shoot him for. Edward too, for that matter.
He realised, as he fought the urge to weep at the sight of her ethereal beauty, that she wasn't slowing down. She was going to barrel into him and though the contact would be welcome, he did not want her hurting herself.
So he called out softly, "Caroline."
Her eyes met his and for a moment, they lit with pure unadulterated joy. It made him want to declare himself then and there.
Hadn't he been about to do so this morning? Before his guests had arrived?
Would he have had the courage?
"Tom. You look very well," she said, her eyes raking over him, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.
He groaned at the sight. She was killing him. And it was exquisite.
"Are you alright?" she asked in concern now, reaching up to touch his brow. "You seem as though you are in pain or sickness."
He laughed at the innocence.
"You have no idea," he responded and saw her frown in confusion.
But he figured it wasn't safe to elaborate so close to his bedchamber.
"I was just going to take a walk, perhaps along the gallery on the first floor," Caroline stuttered. "I am ready earlier than I expected and I find myself quite restless."
She was babbling. Was she nervous? If so, why? Interesting…
"Then I shall join you. I too am at a loose end."
He watched as she thought over his offer for a second and wished he knew what she was thinking.
But then she smiled and nodded.
"Very well," she said and turned to descend the steps.
Tom pulled her to a stop and turned her to face him, his hands firmly on her shoulders, the heat of her skin branding him.
"You look ravishing," he said simply and without preamble.
He watched, fascinated, as a soft blush bloomed in her cheeks.
"Oh, t-thank you. I felt that I should make an effort to look well for all your guests. The party will truly start now after all."
"You always look well. Better than well. In fact, you always look far too beautiful for my peace of mind."
He could tell that she was rendered speechless by this barrage of compliments so he took her arm and slowly started down the steps.
"And as for the party," he said softly, leaning close and inhaling the fresh, light scent that was hers and hers alone, "it will not be nearly as enjoyable as it has been with just us."
Breathe, Caroline she reminded herself as they made their way down the stairs to the next landing.
She loved him so much it was starting to become unbearable.
She had been dreading the arrival of Charlotte Noble but had been both relieved and alarmed by that lady's obvious interest in Charles.
Relieved that she would not have to watch Charlotte flirt mercilessly with Tom. Alarmed because she knew what Charles was and she also knew that Charlotte was not the type of sister-in-law she wanted, should Fred Noble decide that Charles was getting too close to his daughter.
Caroline had been anxiously pacing her room for the last thirty minutes until even Sally got fed up and left her to it.
The truth was, as silly as she had been she had allowed herself to grow comfortable here, with nobody but Tom and her family. Had allowed herself to fantasise about living here with Tom, making a life together, raising children together.
Peacefully and quietly, away from the pressures and structures of a society that she no longer cared about.
In short, everything that she hadn't known she wanted and everything that she had given up two years ago.
And now the house was to be filled with people, most of whom she didn't know, possibly some of who would be here to snag a rich, well connected husband.
To hear Tom say that he didn't want it either caused her to hope when she had no right to.
They had reached the gallery, though Caroline wasn't overly interested, it was something to do to walk her anxiety out of her.
"Here we are," Tom said.
"Yes, wonderful."
She wished she'd said somewhere else. She didn't want to look at huge pictures of deceased strangers.
Tom sighed.
"Shall we go to the conservatory instead? We should be in time to see the sunset."
Caroline beamed.
"That would be wonderful."
He stared at her, as though unable to look away then leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.
Without another word he turned and led her from the gallery.
She wasn't sure why, but she felt like crying. Only this time, for the first time in her life, they were tears of joy.
The conservatory was blissfully quiet and peaceful. Still warm from the heat of the s
etting sun, it was pleasant to stand in, to inhale the heady scent of the flowers and plants that surrounded them.
They moved to the doors and stood watching the summer sun set slowly on the horizon. It was breathtakingly beautiful but Caroline barely saw it, so wrapped up was she in the man beside her.
It was there again, that tenuous something that always simmered between them. Something so wonderful it made her heart ache. Oh how she loved him and how her foolish heart believed he was starting to feel the same.
"It is beautiful," she sighed, unaware of the longing in her wistful tone.
"Yes, it is," he replied deeply but when she turned to look up at him he was watching her and only her.
In the distance, the door sounded and Caroline felt desolate at the thought that this precious moment would end. Just like this morning, they were being interrupted by outside forces.
"We should return. Your guests have arrived," she said in a whisper, as though speaking louder would make their arrival and subsequent end to this, more real.
"We should," he answered though he did not move.
She looked back toward the dusk sky, stepping a little closer to the wall of glass that separated them and the manicured gardens.
"I shall miss this," she said now, the words torn from her heart, "I shall miss being alone with you."
It was rather bold but she no longer cared. It was the truth and it was high time she was honest with him about her feelings.
Caroline gasped as she felt him step behind her, his strong arms pulling her back against the hard lines of his body, his mouth dipping to whisper across her exposed neck.
"Not as much as I will, darling," he said, moving now to the sensitive spot behind her ear.
"But you did not even touch me, all those times alone, when you had the chance," she argued now though breathlessly.
She felt him sigh behind her as he stepped away. She almost cried out in despair at the loss of contact but suddenly found herself being spun toward him and gathered closely once more.
"I wanted to, more than I've ever wanted anything," he said, his eyes boring into her very soul, willing her to believe him.
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