Seeking Scandal (Ranford Series Book 2)

by Nadine Millard

  "Rebecca, how can you laugh at a time like this? Last night I—I—oh, I'm ruined!"

  She dropped her head into her heads and closed her eyes against the onslaught of humiliation.

  And there was still the little matter of her escapade with Tom in the carriage that she would have to address.

  "You aren't ruined, Caro. Honestly. Edward and I made sure of it. And, with Tom's help, the whole thing will be forgotten about in a week or two."

  At this glimmer of hope, Caroline raised her head.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Tom has decided to throw a house party and we are all invited. So we have a perfect excuse to disappear from London for a while without looking like we are running away from anything."

  Caroline tried not to show her reaction to the idea of seeing Tom's home. Of staying there. There, where she might have been mistress of the household. But her heart fluttered at the thought and then thumped painfully when she remembered the image of Tom and that woman last night. Perhaps she would be the mistress of his home now. The thought did nothing to improve her mood.

  Rebecca was still explaining, oblivious to Caroline's turmoil.

  "And Viscount Hadley—"

  "The cad," interrupted Edward.

  "Yes. Quite. Thank you, darling. Anyway, Viscount Hadley was doing his level best to tell all and sundry about your, erm, well about you. But he didn't get very far I can assure you."

  "How did you manage to stop him though?"

  "Well, your own reputation went a long way in helping. All I had to do was point out how unbelievable the idea of you doing anything improper was. The people he told tended to agree that he had grossly exaggerated. And then he just left."

  "Really? I would have thought he would relish the idea of telling as many people as he could."

  "I thought it was strange too. I do wonder what made him pipe down so quickly."

  "I asked him to," said Edward, "nicely."

  Both Caroline and Rebecca raised their eyebrows in disbelief.

  "Nicely?"

  "As nicely as he deserved," answered Edward mutinously.

  "Well, thank you Edward."

  Edward smiled kindly at her. "It was no trouble, my dear."

  Caroline drew in a deep breath. Now was as good a time as any. "And thank you, Mr. Crawdon. For your assistance. And—" Caroline felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment but she must continue. Yet she could not bring herself to meet his eyes and so addressed her speech to the table in front of her. The table wouldn't judge her. It was a table. "I apologise, from the bottom of my heart for—for—"

  "That's quite alright, Lady Caroline. I've been in much worse states myself, I can assure you."

  "But your carriage—"

  "Is very comfortable, I agree."

  Caroline looked at him in confusion and then nearly swooned. Good heavens the man was beautiful. He looked like one of the Greek gods she had read about in her youth. Though his hair was nowhere near as light as her own it was still a beautiful shade of blond, like warm caramel. It caught the sun and glinted invitingly and made her itch to run her fingers through it. His eyes reminded her of the deepest blue of the sea, light and calm when he was happy, but sometimes stormy and deep when he was in turmoil. She had seen them both ways. And she adored them both ways.

  And then there was the strength and hardness of his body, broad shoulders, lean—

  "Caroline."

  "Yes?" she shouted causing the questioning Rebecca to jump.

  "Are you quite well? I've been trying to talk to you."

  Caroline flushed again, grateful that nobody could see inside her head and the entirely inappropriate turn her thoughts had taken. What was wrong with her? She was facing the most serious scandal of her life and all she could think about was Tom.

  Glancing up to catch his eye she was dismayed at the self-satisfied smirk he wore. Perhaps he couldn't know the direction of her thoughts. But he could obviously guess quite accurately.

  Ignoring him, she turned back to her sister.

  "I am sorry, Becca. What is it that you said?"

  "I asked what you were going to say about Tom's carriage."

  "Oh." Oh. "I—um—I"

  "Lady Caroline was quite taken with the carriage and had asked that we take a turn in it this afternoon. Unfortunately, I am having a wheel repaired." Tom turned to look at her. "My apologies, my lady. But if you will still consent to ride out with me, I believe my curricle would be pleasant on such a warm day."

  Caroline could have kissed him. Wanted, quite badly, to kiss him.

  He had obviously kept secret her little accident in the carriage, had seamlessly covered any awkwardness, and was now giving her the chance to speak privately to him so that she could apologise properly. And ascertain just what had happened last night.

  "Thank you, Mr. Crawdon. That would be quite lovely. No doubt the fresh air will do me the world of good," she added wryly.

  Tom smiled, causing her heart to stutter, then he bid Rebecca and Edward a good day before leaving to ready his curricle.

  As soon as he had left, Rebecca turned to Edward.

  "Darling, be so kind as to leave me for a moment with my sister."

  Edward, who had just settled down to make a start on his luncheon, looked longingly at his towering plate.

  "But I'm hungry," he complained petulantly.

  Rebecca's steely look was her only reply.

  With a resigned sigh, Edward pushed back his chair and began to stomp out of the room, muttering under his breath all the while.

  "Thank you, darling," Rebecca called after him, "I shall make it up to you."

  At her words, Edward stopped and turned back to Rebecca. The look on his face made Caroline blush to the roots of her hair. She was quite sure that was not an appropriate way for a man to look at his wife in public.

  "I look forward to it," he responded with a rakish wink before sweeping from the room, his demeanour much happier than it had been moments ago.

  "And that, my dear sister, is how you get a man to do exactly as you want."

  Caroline laughed along with Rebecca and secretly wished with all her heart that one day she would have such power over a man. And not just any man — the man she had cast up her accounts all over last night.

  Lovely.

  "Anyway, the reason I wished to speak to you alone was to check if you are truly alright?"

  Caroline looked down into Rebecca's concerned face. Was she all right? She scarcely knew what she was.

  "Well," she answered as truthfully as she could, "I'd be infinitely better I'm sure if I had not tried to drown myself with champagne last night."

  Rebecca grinned. "It was quite a spectacle. Seeing you act anything other than perfectly properly."

  "Rebecca," Caroline swallowed nervously, "was I very bad?"

  "No, of course not," said Rebecca dismissively. "You were enjoying yourself. That's all. And you were perhaps a little friendlier than usual. Oh, and you stumbled a bit during your dance with Hadley. But you weren't very bad. At least, not until we got outside but then it was just Edward and I. And Tom, obviously. But we didn't mind in the least!"

  "Oh. Right. Well that doesn't sound terrible."

  "It wasn't terrible."

  Caroline felt a flood of relief at Rebecca's words. And yet…

  She could not put her finger on why exactly, but she felt decidedly uneasy about something to do with last night.

  Obviously, being sick in front of, well on Tom wasn't exactly a shining moment of pride for her. But there was something else. Something that she could not quite remember but caused her to feel even more embarrassed. If only she could remember their conversation in the carriage. There had been conversation. She just wasn't exactly sure what it was.

  "But last night, when we spoke in the powder room, you told me how you felt about Tom."

  Caroline felt her cheeks flame at Rebecca's words.

  "And that display between him and that awful Nob
le chit would be enough to overset anybody."

  "You know her?" interrupted Caroline now.

  "Not by choice, I assure you. And certainly as much as I'd like to. But yes. Tom introduced us last night."

  Caroline felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Tom had been introducing her to people last night? While she, Caroline, had been feeling utterly crushed.

  Rebecca must have noticed Caroline's look of devastation, for she threw a comforting arm around her shoulders.

  "Caro, she was simply awful. Rude and unbearably forward with Edward." Rebecca's eyes glinted ferociously with the memory. "But Tom assured us that he has no history with her past general acquaintance. And certainly no interest in her. And I believed him."

  "Did you?" Caroline asked softly, hating how vulnerable she sounded but unable to help it.

  "Yes," said Rebecca firmly, "I did. If I didn't, he would not have been sitting here today."

  Caroline smiled at her sister's fierce loyalty.

  But really, what difference did it make now? Whatever chance she had of showing Tom that she no longer cared about things like titles and positions in society, throwing up all over him was guaranteed to end any sort of attraction he felt towards her for good.

  "It is not his fault that I feel the way I do, Rebecca. You cannot punish him for not feeling the same way."

  "How can you be so sure that he doesn't?"

  Well she wasn't going to divulge that. Thankfully, she was saved from answering by Edward coming back into the room.

  "Caroline, Tom is waiting."

  "Thank you, Edward. I shall return in time for afternoon calls."

  "Oh, do not worry about that," said Rebecca, "if you're not here they'll leave quicker. Enjoy yourself."

  Caroline quickly donned her straw bonnet with blue trim, her white spencer and white gloves and went out into the piercing sunlight to join Tom.

  She felt nervous at the prospect of being alone with him again. At least this time she'd be conscious.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  TOM TRIED HIS best not to stare as Caroline stepped lightly down the steps towards his waiting curricle.

  He was suddenly overcome with a vision of what it would be like if they had married. He would be at liberty to grab her and kiss her senseless whenever he wanted. And he always wanted to.

  Instead he smiled and bowed over her hand before helping her into the curricle and then rushing around to the driver's side.

  "I must say, you are the loveliest drunk I've ever encountered."

  He could tell that she tried not to laugh but eventually, a bubble of mirth burst out.

  "You are too kind," she countered dryly.

  Tom noticed that she still wasn't quite meeting his eyes but he let it go for the moment, his attention mostly taken with steering his matching bays through the busy London streets.

  It was not yet the fashionable hour to be driving so he assumed and hoped that Hyde Park would be relatively empty. He guessed that Caroline would not remember much if any of their conversation in the carriage last night. And fool that he was, he wanted to be sure that she knew there was no attachment between Charlotte and he.

  As it turned out, he was right. The park was sparsely populated and even at that it was more littered with governesses and their charges than anyone else.

  Tom slowed the horses to a leisurely pace before coming to complete stop underneath an overhanging willow. The tree offered some privacy without being outside the bounds of acceptability.

  He turned to speak to her and was surprised to find her watching him closely.

  "Are you well?" he asked rather alarmed. She wasn't blinking.

  "Last night," she said without preamble, "before I—well, when I—"

  "Caroline, truly it is forgotten. We need not speak of it again."

  Her grateful smile made his heart soar. He would do anything to keep that smile on her face. His mind was busy conjuring up all the delicious ways he could go about it.

  "Thank you," she said.

  "Thank you," he replied making light of the situation that he knew must be painfully embarrassing for her. "It is not often I have a legitimate reason to carry a beautiful woman to her bedchamber."

  Caroline's cheeks flamed at such forward talk. He looked forward to the set down he was about to receive. He remembered fondly the times that she would lecture everyone in sight on their manners and behaviour.

  Now though, she seemed to ignore it altogether.

  But her mind was definitely busy. Her poor gloves were being assaulted by her wringing hands.

  "We spoke, did we not? In the carriage on the way home. Before—well, we spoke. And I'm afraid that I cannot remember what it was about exactly."

  Ah. She was worried about what she'd said. There was no reason for her to be, really. What she had said had made him happier than he'd felt in two years, but equally sad for what they'd lost.

  Tom wasn't sure he was ready to discuss it but Caroline was clearly anxious about it.

  "Oh." He leaned back and spoke flippantly, deliberately acting nonchalant about it. "You regaled me with your opinion of Miss Noble mostly. You really did not like her, did you? Yet you do not know her at all. Strange that."

  He was more than a little satisfied at the flash of fire in her eyes. Jealousy?

  "Yes, well," she sniffed piously, "the girl ought to learn how to behave in public."

  Tom bit back a grin.

  "She should indeed. A perfect lady knows that in public one should drink excessive amounts of champagne, insult one's dancing partner whilst also forgetting his name, and—"

  "Oh, stop, please. I am in an agony of embarrassment," Caroline protested but she was laughing too, as he had intended her to.

  "I shall stop. Truly none but a select few noticed. And I shall own that kissing a man full on the lips in a crowded ballroom is infinitely worse."

  Caroline's smile disappeared and a snarl replaced it.

  Tom felt incredibly smug.

  "Jealous, are we?"

  Her mouth dropped open in shock and he almost groaned aloud at the slam of desire that shot through him. If he leaned forward just inches, he could take full advantage.

  "Of course not," she replied. And he lost his opportunity.

  "Why should I be jealous of a brazen little hussy that nobody has heard of?" she scoffed.

  Tom was enjoying himself immensely.

  "And she spoke so highly of you," he lamented.

  "Well, Rebecca hated her. Simply hated her." Caroline felt sick at his championing the girl. He obviously cared deeply for her, whatever Rebecca thought. It was another depressing thought to heap onto the pile. Today, she decided, was not a very good one.

  "Did she indeed?" he asked her now, watching her closely.

  Caroline refused to back down.

  "Yes," she said, warming to the subject. "Despised her, in fact. So I should think very carefully if I were you. If Rebecca hates her, I'm sure the dowager will too. And Edward. So it would be very awkward indeed if you were to marry her and have everyone hate—"

  "What?" Tom's incredulous shout interrupted her rant. "Marry her? Where the hell did you get that idea?"

  He seemed furious.

  "Why, I just thought—I supposed that, well that you and she… That she was—I just…thought…" she trailed off quietly noticing that his rage seemed to be growing.

  "I'm not bloody well marrying her."

  "Watch your language!" Caroline bit out and Tom was reminded that he'd received the exact same scolding from her sister last night. Two shrews, the pair of them.

  "Apologies," he said, far from sorry. "But you have been severely misinformed, if indeed you have been informed of such a thing?"

  "Well, no. But I thought—"

  "You think too much," he said now exasperated beyond compare. He turned to her and said, with as much sincerity as he could muster, "I am not marrying her. I do not intend to marry her. She is an acquaintance, the daughter of a
business associate. That is all she ever has been. That is all she ever will be."

  He watched the obvious relief flash across her face and an imp of mischief awoke inside him.

  "She doesn't see me, you understand."

  He sat back and waited. At first she looked thoroughly confused at his words. Then slowly, as realisation dawned, her eyes grew wider and her skin paler.

  "She—she doesn't see you?" she asked, licking her lips nervously which nearly snapped his tenuous control altogether.

  "No," he confirmed with a smirk.

  "Oh God," she moaned before dropping her head into her hands.

  Caroline wished the ground would swallow her whole as the full conversation came flooding back.

  She had confessed! Told him things she wasn't supposed to. Hadn't Rebecca warned her not to say anything? She vaguely remembered a warning of some description.

  At least she had not told him that she still loved him with her very heart and soul. Had she? No. No, definitely not. She had been about to but then her stomach had chosen that moment to—well, she hadn't. That was the important thing.

  "Come now," Tom's voice sounded laughingly beside her, "it is not so bad."

  Caroline lifted her head to glare at him.

  "Perhaps not. For you. You did not make a complete fool of yourself."

  "Oh, I did," he said, quietly, "Just not last night."

  The air seemed to crackle with tension after his words.

  The breath clogged in Caroline's throat.

  Would it always be like this? The most innocent of statements made huge by the implications of the past?

  Probably. And there was no escaping it. They would never be able to escape their past. At least, Caroline wouldn't. Not when she was so irrevocably in love with him. And grew more so every day.

  And there was no escaping him. She was going to his house, for heaven's sake. Where everything belonged to him and would thus remind her of him. Remind her of how she had let him down. And how she would suffer for it for the rest of her life.

  Tom did not know how to break this tension that cropped up between them, seemingly at every turn.

  So he did what any man would do. He ignored it completely and hoped that it would go away.