Sarah M. Eden British Isles Collection (A Timeless Romance Anthology Book 15)

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Sarah M. Eden British Isles Collection (A Timeless Romance Anthology Book 15) Page 4

by Sarah M. Eden


  “We could plan it for three weeks from now.” He knew he was pushing a little, but he had such little time that hesitancy was the enemy. “If you have decided to accept me and my hand, then we could officially announce our betrothal that night. If not, we need not say anything.”

  She pulled her shawl more closely around her shoulders. “And would I be required to dance the first set with Edward?”

  “You will not be required to do anything.”

  She looked up at him and seemed genuinely pleased. “I look forward to the ball, George. And I hope that this time, you will not resort to fisticuffs with my brother.”

  “Let us both pray that does not prove necessary.”

  Chapter Six

  “I fear I am beginning to regret our friendship, George.” Tom spoke under his breath whilst his mother spoke at length of her plans for the upcoming ball.

  “You and I have endured balls before,” George reminded him.

  “Not the planning of them. I have never heard anyone speak in such detail about fabric draping.”

  “Thomas, are you listening?” Mrs. Downy shot her son a look which sent both Tom and George immediately back to a proper posture and attentiveness.

  “Yes, Mother. You were speaking of blue. A great deal of blue.”

  “Your sister likes blue,” Mrs. Downy said. “Of course we will have blue at the ball.”

  “She also likes white roses,” George pointed out. “We must make certain there are white roses.”

  Mrs. Downy looked to the housekeeper, who was dutifully writing down all the details of the upcoming event.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ve written it here: white roses.”

  “Excellent reminder, George.” Mrs. Downy offered him a smile of genuine relief. She was far more concerned about the outcome of this ball than he would have guessed.

  “You are encouraging her,” Tom grumbled.

  “I am attempting to be helpful. This ball means a great deal to her, and to Caroline.”

  Tom shook his head in apparent displeasure. “You talk of her as though she’s the darling of Society. She’s only Caroline.”

  “You, my friend, do not appreciate your sister as you ought.”

  “And I suppose you do.”

  He bit back a grin. “I do not, in fact, appreciate her as a sister.”

  “You two.” Mrs. Downy’s scolding tone hadn’t decreased in the least. “Are you paying the least bit of attention?”

  “Mother.” Caroline spoke before either of them managed a response. “Why do we not allow the gentlemen to go about their day? I would far rather they save their best behavior for the ball itself than use it up now.”

  “You would not misbehave at the ball, would you?” Mrs. Downy eyed them all: her husband, both of her sons, George. “Not when it means so very much to us all?”

  “I am certain they wouldn’t,” Caroline said. “But planning a ball is not really any of their areas of interest. Let us not torture them further.”

  Mrs. Downy shrugged a little and held her hands up. “I suppose—”

  At that fleeting bit of hope, her male relations jumped to their feet, and with a few quickly offered words of farewell, practically flew from the room.

  George remained behind. He had, after all, been the one to propose the event. He could not abandon the ladies to the task of planning the ball. He approached the table where they sat.

  “What can I do to help? Without Tom here to distract me, I may even prove myself an asset.”

  Mrs. Downy sighed. “Why is it that you are so much better behaved than those other three?”

  “Perhaps I am simply a better person than they are.”

  She laughed, as he’d hoped she would. Even Caroline seemed amused. Her smiles had been too rare in the few days since he’d come from London. He wanted her to be light and happy, to be so pleased with the future spread before her that she, too, could laugh at absurdities and join in him in frivolity.

  “I do thank you for your offer,” Mrs. Downy said, “but I assure you we have this task very firmly in hand.”

  “You are certain?” he pressed.

  “Quite.”

  “I had best go see how the gentlemen intend to spend their morning,” he said, “and allow you ladies to return to your work. But, please, do send word if you think of anything I might do to assist you.”

  Mrs. Downy patted his hand. “Your mother must be so pleased with the gentleman you have become.”

  He forced a smile. “I sincerely hope she is.” But he doubted it.

  Mother’s pleasure in any person was limited to their perceived importance. He, despite being well received amongst gentlemen and ladies alike within Society, could not claim a place of true social cachet, a failing which held great sway for her. Upon receiving word of his engagement, her congratulations were focused on the Downys’ connections rather than on any hopes for his happiness.

  He sketched a brief bow and made his escape. Why was is that thoughts of his mother’s eternal disapproval always turned his mood sour? After twenty-two years of not meeting her expectations, he ought to have stopped allowing the realization to hurt.

  He’d not gone far when he was stopped short by the sound of quick, slippered footfalls behind him. He turned about in time to see Caroline throw her arms around his middle. For a fraction of a moment, he stood paralyzed by shock. Then instinct took over. His arms settled naturally, easily, around her, returning her embrace with a sense of belonging he’d never felt with any other person.

  “Your mother ought to be so very pleased with you.” Her words shook with what sounded like a mixture of sadness and anger. “You are a good, kind, exemplary gentleman, and despite your evasive answer just now, I know that she does not see those things in you, or at least she does not allow those things to be enough to earn her approval.” Her tender heart never ceased to touch his.

  “Please do not allow my mother’s coldness to upset you.”

  “How can I not? Every time she visits, she treats the lot of us as though we were nothing more than our ancestry. Far worse, she acts as though you are nothing at all because you haven’t the social standing she wishes you did.” Caroline still held tightly to him, her words muffled a bit by his jacket but spoken with such fervor that they could not possibly be misunderstood. “Your own mother, George, refuses to see the wonderful person you are. Of course that upsets me.”

  Was it any wonder he loved this woman so much? “Are you pleased, then, with the person I have become after such an inauspicious start? I was not so pleasant as a young boy, and I am well aware of it.”

  “You were always good,” she said from within the folds of his arms. “Even when you teased me terribly, you were still kind.”

  “At the risk of sounding like the worst sort of son, I confess your good opinion means far more to me than any half-hearted approval my mother might be willing to bestow.”

  She leaned back enough to look up at him, though she made no effort to slip from his arms. “Why should my opinion matter so much?”

  Though nerves sent his pulse into frighteningly rapid territory, George pressed on. This needed saying. “I am going to toss your father’s well-meaning advice to the wind and tell you what I likely ought to have told you long ago.”

  He actually heard her swallow. Her coloring dropped off, and she took an absentminded step backward and out of his arms. He hadn’t intended to alarm her but seemed to have done just that.

  “My dear Caroline. I have loved you ever since I was old enough to understand what that meant. Your brothers are fine fellows, and your parents have been like parents to me, but it was you who pulled me here again and again. You, with your tender heart and quick mind, your beguiling conversation, your unparalleled company. I didn’t blacken Edward’s eyes simply because you are a fine dancer. I have loved you so long, I have lost track of the years.”

  She didn’t speak, and didn’t seem the least likely to. How he hoped Mr. Downy’s words of war
ning did not turn prophetic.

  He reached for Caroline’s hand. Thank the heavens, he was not denied. “Did you never wonder why I have not come to visit these past fourteen months?”

  “Tom and Edward are often gone. I assumed that without them here, you could not find a compelling enough reason to visit.” Though she offered the explanation with a casual tone, the pain in her eyes could not be dismissed. She thought he hadn’t cared enough to bother seeing her.

  “I knew the time was fast approaching when your family would begin looking to arrange a match for you. I have been frantically addressing every aspect of my finances and estate and home, hoping that when the time came, I would have enough to offer that your family would accept my petition.”

  Was she hearing him? Accepting his explanation? Or, as her father had warned, did she fear he was merely telling her what he hoped she wanted to hear?

  “Oh, no. No.” She shook her head, stepping back. “I was afraid you would come to resent me because you didn’t love me, but this— this is worse.”

  “Worse?”

  She paced their small corner of the corridor. “You will be miserable. We will be miserable.”

  “Caroline?”

  “You promised three weeks.”

  She kept a distance between them.

  “I still have two and a half more. Please let me sort this out. Please give me the time and the space to do that.”

  She didn’t answer, but rather turned and hurried away, something she’d done worryingly often of late.

  He couldn’t help a drop of his heart. Mr. Downy, it seemed, was right. Confessing his feelings had only made things worse.

  Chapter Seven

  “How was it I knew I would find you gazing forlornly out of a window?”

  Despite Edward’s tone of light censure, Caroline did not change her posture, nor her gaze. “I have had a great deal on my mind of late.”

  “A great deal more than necessary, if you ask me.”

  “I didn’t,” she pointed out.

  He sat beside her on the window seat. “You have been playing least in sight this past week. Your absence has set Mother into hysterics, father into hermitry in his library, and poor Tom has spent every waking hour consoling a nearly frantic George. That leaves only me to search you out and say what needs to be said.”

  She refused to meet his gaze. “Do not scold me, Edward. I am facing the entirety of my future. I have every right to be very careful about how I proceed.”

  “I never said otherwise. I only feel you ought to proceed with a perspective other than your own.” Edward leaned back against the window, apparently settling in for a long and drawn-out discussion. “Do not give me that perturbed look so soon, Caroline. I am an older brother, and I mean to fill that role quite thoroughly just now.”

  She gave him the briefest of glances. “I suppose your thoughts couldn’t hurt.”

  “Your confidence is overwhelming.” He used the dry tone that never failed to bring a smile to her face. “Allow me to explain what I have observed over the years. You have always known that your marriage would be an arranged one, undertaken with the purpose of saving the family from financial ruin. Realizing this, you found it best to never allow yourself to fall even the tiniest bit in love with anyone. Losing your heart, even an inch of it, to any young gentleman would end only with heartache, so you wisely guarded yourself against that.”

  She nodded. She had been careful with her affections, for the exact reasons he’d stated. Courting heartbreak had never seemed a wise course.

  “The mind and heart do not often discuss things as they ought. I realized a number of years ago that the walls you had painstakingly built around yourself had proven insufficient against the depth and sincerity of George’s regard.”

  She pressed her cheek to the cool glass. “He told me he loves me.”

  “And he does. He has for at least five years now, quite possibly longer.”

  “Can you not see how terrible that makes everything? He will expect me to love him in return, and I have never thought of him that way. He is my friend, my kind companion. What if I am unable to love him the way he wishes? He will be miserable, and I will be miserable in return.”

  Edward tipped his head back, tossing his gaze at the ceiling. “You are being uncharacteristically thick about this.”

  Why was he scolding her?

  “I remember your first assembly,” he said, “and the absolute relief on your face when you were told that I would stand up with you for the first set. You were grateful to not be required to undertake that harrowing moment with a complete stranger.” He looked at her once more. “But when you were told that George would be taking my place, it was not relief that I saw on your face, Caroline. Your very heart was in your eyes. I knew then that you loved him, but I didn’t realize that you didn’t know that you did.”

  She sat up straighter. “But I don’t. He is my friend. He is only my friend.” Why was it that the declaration brought a thickness to her throat and tears to her eyes?

  “You have only ever allowed yourself to think of him in those terms due to your sense of self-preservation. But you are no longer saving yourself from hurt; you are causing it.” He pulled her into a one-armed, brotherly embrace. “You have been told all of your life that loving someone was a risk you dare not take. Sweet, little Caroline, you must take that risk now. You have the opportunity to marry for love. Do you have any idea how rare that is?”

  She leaned more heavily against him. “Surely you intend to marry for love.”

  “Though our estate is now solvent, I have no expectations of ever having a true income. Tom is in an even worse position. He and I both know we will likely never marry. We’ve known it as long as you have known the state of your future. We have nothing to offer a lady, nothing to truly recommend us. Please do not throw away your opportunity because you are afraid.”

  “I am not at all certain I am brave enough for this.”

  He squeezed her shoulders. “You needn’t be afraid of George. He would move heaven and earth for you if he were able. Tell him of your worries and your fears, and he will hear you, and love you, and do all he can to walk this path with you. But you cannot begin that journey without a first step.”

  She took a deep, fortifying breath. “Is George terribly upset with me?”

  “He is worried about you. Go put the poor man— and the rest of us along with him— out of our collective misery.” He set her away from him, but held her gaze. “And be happy. Promise me you will be happy.”

  “Will you be?”

  His usual smile returned. “When have you ever known me not to be?”

  The bravado fell a bit flat, however. She’d heard real sadness in his voice as he’d admitted to his terribly slim chances of finding his own domestic happiness. She kissed his cheek as she’d done with him and father and Tom ever since she was a little girl.

  “You are the very best of brothers.” She prayed he could hear and see her sincerity.

  “I know. Now go find poor George. He needs your reassurance far more than I do.”

  She took a moment to give her brother another hug. He shooed her off with a feigned show of annoyance.

  Caroline searched the library, the gardens, the sitting room. She even peeked about the stables and orchard. She found no sign of George. Where could he have gone off to? Just when she’d convinced herself that he was off grouse shooting with Tom, she found her brother in the billiard room, alone.

  “Have you seen George?” she asked.

  Tom lined up a shot. “He left this morning for Shropshire to fetch his mother and bring her back for the ball.”

  “He’s gone?” She had not anticipated that. “But, why did he not bid us farewell?”

  “He did.” Tom sent balls flying with a thrust of his cue. “But you were moping in your room, and he didn’t wish to impose.”

  “I was not—” Actually, she had been moping a little. And, it seemed, she had push
ed him away in the process. “How long do you suspect him to be gone?”

  Tom crossed to the far side of the billiard table. “Couldn’t say.” He tapped his cue against the table side, eyes narrowing in concentration. “He’ll be back for the ball, I suspect.”

  “Did he seem terribly upset when he left?”

  “I don’t know.” Tom never had been as helpful as Edward. “He’s never in good spirits when faced with seeing his mother. She’s a bit of a harridan, you know.”

  “I know.” Everyone knew, in fact. “But he is returning for the ball, is he not?”

  “I already answered that question.” Tom didn’t look up from his game. Indeed, he’d hardly acknowledged her throughout their conversation.

  “Are you upset with me?”

  “Everyone is upset with you, Caroline. You are making George miserable, and none of us likes it.” He took another shot. As the balls rolled, he looked at her at last. “But George made us solemnly vow to be patient with you, or else he’d pummel the lot of us when he returned. We, being intelligent, believe him.”

  How like George. And how like her to have never seen more in his fiery defense of her than staid friendship.

  “Odd that the first smile I’ve seen from you in ages comes upon hearing that your brothers’ well-being has been threatened.” Despite his protestation, Tom sounded amused.

  “I was only thinking how often George has been my champion.”

  “The poor bloke loves you, for all the good it’s doing him.” Tom set his billiard cue in the rack on the wall. “You’re torturing him, you know.”

  “That has recently been brought to my attention.” She had meant to try harder to sort out her jumbled feelings. But she’d meant to do so with George there. He would have listened, and understood. He would have held her hand as she struggled.

  Good, kind George. Lovely, wonderful George.

  Her George.

  Chapter Eight

  “With a bit of effort, the Downys could make this approach far more impressive.” Mother eyed the facade of Downy House as though it were a hovel surrounded by mud and muck. “One would never guess they were kin to a duke.”

 

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