But what of these two young bucks? He had felt their glares when he kissed Caro’s hand.
“I fancy a game of billiards after tea,” he said to her. “I want to see if you live up to Jack’s billing.”
“I am afraid I would not give a very great account of myself, dressed as I am.”
“Oh, ho! Is this modesty?”
He realized the entire company was silent, listening to their raillery. Then the man he had been introduced to as Lord Harry strode forward with his unmistakable military bearing.
“You are a hand at billiards?” he asked Caro.
“Reputedly unbeatable,” Ned said.
“This I have to see!” said Lord Harry, and Ned observed another blush that rose to Caro’s cheeks.
“Then you shall,” Caro replied. “I would not deny any pleasure of yours, Lord Harry."
“Ah! I must put that sentiment to the test,” he replied to Ned’s annoyance. “There are so many things I take pleasure in, you see.”
“And you, Lord William,” Caro asked. “Do you enjoy billiards?”
“I’ve been known to wield a cue,” the man answered with a warm smile.
Clearly, Caro had been encouraging these two insufferable young lords.
* * *
As Caro chalked her cue, Ned tried to read her mind. Her eyes shrewd, she looked as though she were a general planning a campaign. Was she nervous? Even the slightest tremble of her hand would doom her shots.
They allowed her to take the first turn. Shrugging a bit inelegantly in her evening gown, Ned wondered if she were inwardly cursing its restraints. She passed the cue through her fingers and carefully took aim while leaning on the padded edge of the table. With just the right amount of force, she hit the ivory balls into confusion in the middle of the green felt. Caro then performed her first bank shot and watched with satisfaction as two balls fell into their pockets. She was able to pocket three more balls before she missed.
“Well done!” Ned said. “You are a woman of many talents, I perceive.”
“I taught her well,” said Jack.
Caro looked at her friend severely, lifting her chin. “Of course, you would take the credit, Jack. But I strike a blow for females everywhere. Perhaps one day, I shall take up cricket, my lord.”
Harry applauded. “I like your spirit, Miss Braithwaite.”
His brother concurred. Caro went to stand at Lord William’s side, giving him one of her enchanting smiles. Ned ground his teeth.
* * *
Despite his long ride, Ned lay awake that night, thinking about Miss Caro Braithwaite. He knew he had been cruel to her in their last contretemps. He had talked himself into believing that his attraction toward her was merely a physical one. If that were so, why had he thought of her incessantly while he was at the orphanage? He hadn’t pictured Lady Sarah there, had he?
For the entire length of the billiards game up until the point when she won,she had flirted in a subtle manner with Lord William. Lord Harry had tried to engage her interest, to no effect. Nor had Ned’s own efforts won success. He was almost certain that Caro was putting up a deliberate show. Almost.
But could he blame her? Not only had he dealt her a serious insult, he had let her know in no uncertain terms where his true affections lay. The marquis’s youngest son was a vicar, Ned had come to realize. Perhaps that was the future she envisioned for herself—living in Devonshire, working with the children of the parish, as she did here. He knew she had no real taste for London.
That dashed youngster was as exciting as milk! How could he possibly appreciate a woman whom, Ned was convinced, harbored a great potential for passion?
But what had he to offer Caro Braithwaite? Passion, certainly. But not his heart. It would not be well done of him to stand in the way of her forming an attachment to someone who was free to love her completely.
But the idea still rankled. Badly.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
IN WHICH OUR HEROINE
ATTEMPTS TO ENJOY THE FÊTE
Caro did not know how she would have seen to everything that needed seeing to, had she not had the assistance of Lord William. From the very beginning of the fête, he had been there beside her, asking how he could help.
The fête had begun after luncheon. The girls and boys had streamed into the grounds behind Jack’s Gothic mansion, given over once a year for this purpose. The dowager had worn her fête hat, a broad-brimmed straw trimmed in live flowers from Kate’s garden.
In thrilling tones, she said, “I pronounce the St. James-in-the-Wold Parish Fête open! Enjoy yourselves!”
Then Caro had taken over. The first thing she appreciated about Lord William was his baritone voice that carried over the grounds far better than hers. After ascertaining where she wanted everyone, he directed the eager children to the proper areas.
Soon the games were underway, overseen by Caro and Lady Stanfield. Lord William had seen a need for another adult and added his presence. There were three age groups for each race—the three-legged race, the egg-and-spoon race, and the book-on-the-head race. Laughter and cheering sang through the air. The weather could not have been more perfect. There were the usual tears and skinned knees from falls, but nothing went seriously awry. Some children trained for and awaited these races all year long.
Following the games, the dowager awarded the prizes—toy bears with satin bows for the littlest children, shillings for the next group, and gold guineas for the winners in the eldest age group. There were peppermint sweets for everyone who participated.
Meanwhile, the ladies of the community had been busy bringing cakes and sandwiches to the tea tent. Once the flap was opened, the children descended upon the tables, filling their plates with all manner of cakes and savories. They also had glasses of lemonade.
As they sat on the lawn, they watched the conjurer perform magic tricks. A new addition to the proceedings, Caro had hired him from Salisbury for the day, and the children greeted him with unrestrained glee Following this act was a Punch and Judy show performed by Kate and Jack behind the scenes. Caro was rather alarmed at how much the children enjoyed Judy’s pummeling of Punch. Beside her, Lord William chuckled.
Up to this point, the Duke of Beverley had hung back, but she had been aware of his eyes following her every move. She felt as though she were being stalked. Lord Harry, apparently impatient that her attention was taken up, had wandered back indoors.
“What is next on the program?” Lord William asked.
“Next, we have the play. I would appreciate it so much if you could help the boys into their costumes. They are designed to go on over their clothes, but they will have trouble with the buttons down the back.”
“Certainly. Do the children know which costumes are theirs?”
“Yes. They love to dress up, you know. Now, I must get Jack to move the sets from the ballroom and out to the terrace. That is to be our stage.”
“This is quite a production, Miss Braithwaite!”
“Is it not? I love doing this! I think it is the highlight of my summer. At Christmas, we do a pageant, and that is great fun, as well.” She swallowed the last of the lemonade, procured earlier by Lord William.
“It is quite obvious that you must either become the lady of a great house or marry a vicar.”
She looked at him in surprise. His eyes were merry, matching his unrestrained grin. Caro felt herself blushing.
Beverley walked up to join them. “I am truly impressed, Miss Braithwaite. But what has this young vicar been saying to draw your blushes?”
To her surprise, Lord William turned to the duke with aplomb. “Merely that she must obviously marry a vicar.”
“And here I was thinking that she should marry a duke!”
“Are you offering, your grace?” Caro asked.
With a teasing gleam in his eye, he retorted, “Perhaps I might hire you?”
For a moment she was bereft of speech, reminded instantly of the carte blanche insult.
“I am not available for hire in any capacity whatever, your grace.” Turning her back on him, she allowed Lord William to take her hand and tuck it into the crook of his arm. They left the duke standing as they walked toward the terrace. Caro knew that her companion must feel her trembling. She was grateful for the wisdom that made him refrain from comment.
Nerves knotted her stomach as she endeavored to quiet the noisy children and dress them in their costumes. Lord William whistled for their attention.
“Let us calm ourselves, shall we?”
This silenced the players immediately.
Holding up the chorus costumes, he said, “Who belongs to these?”
Soon, the gaggle of players was dressed and ready.
“Oh, where is Jack? He’s my narrator,” Caro fussed, looking out the window over the lawn.
“Never mind. I’ll find the marquis.” Lord William let himself out onto the terrace that had been successfully converted into the pastoral scene for Humpty Dumpty.
Of course, as usually happened, out of this great confusion, the play somehow proceeded splendidly. The children rose to the occasion and the audience responded with enthusiasm, clapping and whistling.
After bows and applause, Jack thanked Caro for her script and directing, his wife for the sets, and a list of village women for the costumes. Then he invited all to partake of supper at the fire pit, where a pig had been turning on the spit all day. The crowd disappeared speedily, and Caro was left with Jack and Lord William.
“My lord,” she said to the vicar. “I do not know how I imagined I could ever get through this without your help.”
“I am certain you would have managed, Miss Braithwaite. But I do have a favor to ask in return.”
Startled, she asked, “And what might that be?”
“I understand there is to be dancing about the bonfire later?”
Jack said, “Yes, this annual fête tears up my lawn, I can tell you.”
“May I partner you for the first set?” the vicar asked her.
“’Tis likely to be a country reel,” Caro said. “Our accompaniment is the village fiddler, and I warn you, he is quite lively.”
“Perhaps you are too tired for a reel,” Lord William said.
“Not in the least!” Caro assured him. “Now, let us just get these sets back inside, and then we can adjourn to the feast.”
She was aware that Jack was watching her with one eyebrow raised. As the vicar started inside with the scaffolding belonging to the beanstalk, Jack leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Giving our Ned a run for his money?”
“I do not know what you could possibly mean.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
IN WHICH OUR HERO YIELDS TO TEMPTATION
It was more than flesh and blood could stand. Ned watched the egregious Lord Harry twirl Caro in the light of the bonfire, unable to keep from gritting his teeth. When did this become a habit?
As she flitted in and out of the light, it was as though her form taunted him: the honey-colored hair golden in the firelight as it tumbled down her back, loosed by the succession of reels she had performed, the shadow of her figure visible through the light muslin gown against the fire, her shapely ankle showing itself often as she capered about. Even from his spot by the tree, he could see the happiness radiating from her. In this parish, Caro was queen tonight. She danced with a happy abandon he had never seen in London.
Caro Braithwaite was more desirable than ever. And she was not only desirable, she was good. A heartless Incomparable would never take her joy from all that she had accomplished this day. She had a kind heart. A merry heart. A loving heart.
He yanked himself up straight and stern. She is only a young woman like many another! Why is every one of my senses aware of her? I want to smell the smoke in her hair while running it through my fingers. I want to taste that mouth and hear her scolding me. Seeing her dance before me and away from me is like a bad dream. Damn! I want her badly. What a selfish beast I am.
Pulling himself away, he walked to the refreshment table and availed himself of a mug of ale. Jack was standing there, talking to Lord Jonathan Braithwaite. Ned clapped his friend on the shoulder as Lord Jonathan moved off.
“A success! Don’t you agree?”
“Yes. As long as Caro remains in the parish, the fête will always be a success,” Jack said.
“I’m surprised the two of you didn’t become leg-shackled. It would have been convenient.”
“Convenient, yes, but as she pointed out to me when I put the question to her, we are too much like brother and sister. I grew to be grateful to her for that response, of course, the moment I met my Kate.”
“Tell me about these long-lost cousins of Kate’s. I don’t think I like the look of Lord Harry.”
“You mean the look you see in his eyes when he has Caro in his sights?”
Ned scowled. “He seems not quite a gentleman.”
“I agree.” Jack downed the remainder of his ale. “Too bad you seem to have blotted your copybook with Miss Braithwaite. If she thought you a gentleman, you might have been able to cut him out.”
Ned took a long swallow of ale, remembering the conversation he had had with Caro in her bedroom the last day of the house party.
“Actually, I don’t think he has a chance. Nor that youngster of a vicar, either.”
“You rate your charms highly.”
“Not mine. There is someone she met in Town. Someone else has stolen her heart.”
“Then why did she return so early?”
“I fancy he broke her heart. But what remains of it still belongs to him.”
“Oh? And she told you this?”
“Yes. When I revealed my own situation with Lady Sarah.”
Jack looked at him keenly. “I never took you for a fool, Ned. Now, my lady is signaling me. I believe she wants to dance.”
Ned watched his friend walk away. Maddening fellow. Why was it that marriage made all one’s friends think they were suddenly become sages on the subject of females?
Unable to stay away, he walked back to the bonfire. The evening was becoming cool. The moon was full and brilliant. The stars appeared like winking lights strung over the celebration. All should be well on such a night.
But it was not, of course. For the first time in his far-from-blameless life, he was being eaten up by jealousy like the veriest lad. There. He’d admitted it.
What were his feelings for Caro Braithwaite if she could inspire such discord in his breast? Didn’t he owe it to himself to find out? Of course I do.
Locating her now in a group containing all the Cleaverings as well as her parents, he saw that they were busily imbibing punch and laughing at Lord Jonathan, who was performing a jig while carefully holding his cup aloft.
Striding about the periphery of the bonfire, he joined them, clapping enthusiastically to the fiddler’s song. Caro joined her father, partnering him in the lively dance.
“By Jove, Miss Braithwaite, you do know how to have a good time!” Lord Harry exclaimed.
She turned and smiled widely at him. Such a smile Ned had received once upon a time during the last Season.
When the jig was done, he joined in the applause for a brief moment. Then, using it as a screen, he moved to her side and said in her ear, “Will you forgive me all my witless behavior and grant me just one dance?”
Her look changed from joy to suspicion as she stared hard at him.
“I pledge I will mind my tongue and I will not bring any harm upon your person. Surely, with all the good you have done today, you are in a mind to be forgiving?”
Lord Harry chose that moment to come near and take her arm. “A Scottish reel! Let’s have another dance.”
Caro removed his hand. “I am engaged with the duke, Lord Harry.”
Ned could not forbear giving the other man a grin of triumph as he led her away. It had been a long time since he had danced a reel. In the general way, he did not enjoy them, but leading out with the
day’s heroine, he felt very much Laird of the Castle. As they paraded down the line of couples, he held Caro’s hand high, putting his other hand on his hip, his chin in the air, as though he were arrayed in a fine Scottish kilt, velvet jacket, and lace at his neck and wrists. Caro picked up the edge of her skirt, becoming lady to his laird. Onlookers whistled and began to clap.
She was a fine companion in joy. Surely this day had shown him more of her than all those wasted evenings paying court to her loveliness in London. Caro Braithwaite was not the frosty Incomparable tonight. She was a woman of fire and delight.
Their reel was followed by applause. Caro looked into his face, her eyes dancing. “Your grace, that was quite a vigorous display!”
“You thought me lazy, perhaps?”
“Languorous, shall we say.”
“I can bestir myself when the occasion requires it. Though I confess I’m a bit warm. Let us move away from the fire a little.”
Away from the blaze, they shortly found themselves in darkness. Ned knew an overwhelming impulse to pull Caro into his arms and kiss her. But when he stopped and pulled her close, he felt the beating of her heart like a panicked bird against his chest. What gave him the right to take his pleasure here with no serious intent?
“You are a very desirable woman, Caro. I long to kiss you.”
“I would prefer that you refrained, your grace. You would mean nothing by it.”
“Would I not?”
“You know you would not. When last we spoke, you made it quite clear that your attraction to me was purely carnal, and that Lady Sarah was the woman of your heart.”
“It was all the fault of those deuced standing stones. They had bewitched me. I could not see past my desire for you to the person you truly are. But now, tonight I see that my heart did not lead me astray. It was right all along. Forgive me for doubting it.”
She pulled herself away from him. “I suspect you of leading me away from my estimable suitors. You are perverse.” She gave his chest a punch with her small fist. But he could see the gleam of her teeth as she smiled at him in the moonlight.
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