At the next turn she managed to stay with him, while also avoiding getting her feet under Julian’s large boots. He raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement. She was a skilled dancer. And a fighter.
Caroline refused to meet his gaze. Instead she smiled at all the other couples that they passed by. While she had a smile plastered firmly on her face, he was certain he heard her mutter “blackguard” as he swept her into another turn of the waltz.
When the music finally came to an end a short time later, Julian slowed through the final turn and set Caroline safely back on her feet. They applauded the orchestra. He then looked down at her and took in the expression of anger which was locked on her face. Her jaw was set hard and her lips tightly held together. She was furious.
Julian, silently enjoying his moment of triumph, simply smiled back at her.
As the other guests wandered from the dance floor, Caroline stood where she was. Julian waited for the customary curtsey from his lady partner, but her hands were locked tight in fists of rage. “You. You fool of a man,” she stammered.
He cleared his throat. “Actually, I have several degrees from the University of Edinburgh, so I am no one’s fool, least of all yours, Miss Saunders. You demanded that I dance with you, and that is exactly what I did. Nothing more and nothing less.”
Her cheeks turned from a soft pale pink to bright red. He could hear her breathing heavily, the air sucking in through her nose and out through her mouth. “How dare you? You brute of a man. I shall never speak to you again.”
In for a penny, in for a pound.
“One can only live in hope of such pleasure,” he replied.
The gasp which came from her lips made Julian’s night complete. He wished someone would hand him a glass of champagne and a medal for his efforts.
“You are the rudest man I have ever met. You flung me around the dance floor like a wet dishrag. I shall never ever speak to you again,” she bit back.
“And yet, your lips are still moving. Really, Miss Saunders, you should make up your mind,” he replied.
At this, his last and most satisfying retort, Julian stepped back and began to walk away. Hell would freeze over before he bowed to the Ice Queen again.
As he headed toward the supper room in search of a sweet cake, he turned one last time and watched with disgust as Caroline’s group of admirers all rushed across the floor and gathered around her.
“Fools,” he muttered.
But just as the last of her court stepped in close, and Caroline was lost from his sight, Julian could have sworn that she was still staring at him. And was that a soft grin he saw on her lips?
No. He must have imagined it.
Chapter Eight
Caroline dragged herself somewhat reluctantly out of bed the following morning. If she’d had any say in it, the bed covers would have remained over her face and she would have slept through to noon. But members of her family apparently had other ideas.
“Your father wishes to speak to you as a matter of urgency,” said her maid.
With a large huff, she threw back the blankets. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she dropped to the floor. “Ow!”
She looked down and spotted the bruise on the outside of her right foot.
“Big-footed lump,” she muttered.
She had little doubt in her mind that Lord Newhall had deliberately trodden on her foot. She had seen the sly smile which threatened at the corner of his mouth as his boot connected with her dance slipper.
A mouth that was blessed with full lips. They made her heart flutter when she looked at them. And those grey eyes. They promised all manner of wicked delights. Julian Palmer had featured strongly in her dreams that night.
He was most certainly an unusual man. He had openly challenged her status as queen of the ballroom. Few other men in the ton would have had the temerity to address her the way he did. It was clear that whatever magic she wielded over others had little effect on Earl Newhall.
He instilled in her a heady mix of frustration, annoyance, and simmering lust. She was innocent in the ways of love, but the thrill of heat which coursed through her body every time he was near told her all she needed to know. He could teach her a great deal about desire.
After dressing and hurriedly putting her hair up in a simple bun, she knocked on the door of her father’s study.
“Ah, there you are,” said Charles Saunders, stepping out from behind his desk.
Caroline closed the door behind her and took a seat in her usual spot on the couch nearest the fire. Her father’s office, though small, was always cold.
He came and sat in the armchair opposite her. “I have had a visitor this morning.”
The look on his face, coupled with those words made her heart sink. How many more times would they have this conversation?
“Who?” she asked.
Her father sighed. “The fact that you had to ask who could be visiting me to offer for your hand in marriage speaks volumes, Caroline. It was Timothy Walters. I hope the name at least rings a bell.”
“I am sorry, Papa. He had not spoken to me, nor made me aware that he was coming to see you,” she replied.
Charles sat back in his chair and brought his hands together. He looked at her over steepled fingers. “This cannot go on. Your mother is deeply concerned that you are getting a reputation as a . . . well—and we French do not use the word lightly—an allumeuse,” he said.
Heat raced to Caroline’s cheeks as she reeled from her father’s words. Her parents thought she was a tease. “But I never encouraged him. In fact, only a matter of days ago I asked him to stay away from me,” she pleaded.
“Yes. I know you don’t think you encourage these young men, but clearly, they feel that you do. Now while neither your mother nor I are saying you are giving them mixed signals, we think it best that you stay away from social gatherings for a little while. Some time at home might do your reputation some good,” he said.
Caroline rose from the couch. She felt nauseous. No unmarried young woman wanted her reputation held up to scrutiny. Society matrons were inclined to discourage their sons from offering marriage to young ladies with sullied reputations. Even those such as Caroline who came from one of the top ton families.
“Actually, Papa, I was thinking I might ask Uncle Ewan if I could go to Scotland and stay at Strathmore Castle. That will keep me out of social circulation for a little while,” she replied.
Charles nodded. “That is an excellent idea. While you and Francis are off boating in Hyde Park this afternoon, I shall send word to Strathmore House. If his grace is agreeable, you could leave for Scotland soon.”
Caroline hugged her father. “Thank you, Papa.”
Her plan to escape London was now in motion.
Chapter Nine
How much effort would it take to pitch his mother into the Serpentine? Julian wasn’t sure, but walking beside her as she rattled off a long list of his supposed failures in life, he was becoming more willing by the minute to take a chance.
It had not been an easy decision to accept her offer to spend the morning with her before she sailed back to Europe. He had been regretting it with every passing moment since their arrival. It would be the first and last time he played the role of dutiful son in public.
She was toying with him. The final guest list for the house party, along with the Crusader Ruby, was still in the countess’s hands. The public outing was purely for the keeping up of appearances. The grown man made to be at his mother’s beck and call.
“You could have taken up an ambassadorship. I hear the Americans are keen to repair some relations with England now that beastly Napoleon is gone. Washington would be a good start for you to rise up in the political ranks. Anywhere would be better than that drab castle in Derbyshire,” she said.
“I have an estate to run in England, and besides that, Washington is supposed to be bitterly cold in winter,” replied Julian.
They were walking alongside the shore
of the elegant lake in Hyde Park, heading toward the popular cake house for some cheese cake and coffee. The countess was in fine form, much to his disappointment.
“Look at that! Some people just don’t know how to behave in public,” she said.
Julian roused from his musings and looked to where his mother pointed. Across from them, in the middle of the lake, were a pair of boats side by side. Standing in the middle of each boat was a young man wielding an oar, making every effort to splash the inhabitants of the other vessel.
The male in the nearest boat to them stumbled and nearly tipped it over. The woman, who was seated in the middle of the boat, screamed.
“James, for heaven’s sake, you will put us all at the bottom of the lake. Take me back to shore!”
Julian stopped at the sound of the familiar voice of reproach. As the boat slowly turned and began to make its way back to the shore, he caught sight of the offended young woman. It was Caroline Saunders. He would know that angry, disapproving face anywhere.
The countess harrumphed. “I told you the Saunders girl was common. No respectable young miss would go out on the Serpentine and make such a spectacle of herself. Pity the boat didn’t turn over. I would have enjoyed seeing her fall into the water.”
As the boat neared the shore, Caroline looked up, and she and Julian locked gazes. She glared at Julian. Her lips moved, and he quickly registered the word fool directed at him.
The second boat came racing into the shore. It hit the bank with some force and the occupants fell out of their seats. Francis Saunders struggled to get to his feet at the end of the boat. The young lady with him managed to get a foot over the side and was making a valiant attempt to find dry land. Ignoring his mother’s protests, Julian hurried to the water’s edge and assisted the young lady safely to shore.
“Thank you,” she said.
The boat containing Caroline pulled up alongside him. The young man in charge of it leaped out and tried to grab the end. He missed, and the boat began to drift away from the shore.
“Sorry!” he yelled. He was laughing, but the look on Caroline’s face was one of anything but amusement.
“James!” she cried.
As the dry land slipped away, she made an ill-timed leap from the boat.
Julian could have caught her if he had wanted. Instead, he took a step back and watched as she fell to her hands and knees in the wet mud at the edge of the lake.
“Ooof!” she cried.
The others raced down to the water’s edge and helped her to her feet. Her skirts were covered in thick black mud. It caked her hands and her arms all the way to her elbow. She looked a terrible sight.
“James, please go and find our driver and carriage. We had better get Caroline home and changed into dry clothes before she catches her death,” said Francis.
The woman Julian had helped out of the other boat a moment before, took off her coat and lay it over Caroline’s shoulders all the while offering words of comfort. Caroline closed her eyes and began to sob.
Julian, ashamed at having let Caroline fall into the mud, quickly averted his gaze. He backed away from the side of the lake and rejoined his mother.
“Well done, Newhall. You gave that little bitch exactly what she deserved. I didn’t think you had it in you, but you did,” she said.
Julian followed the countess around to the old brick cake house situated by the lake side. The whole time, he silently cursed himself for his disgraceful act. The one and only time his mother had approved of something he had done, and instead of feeling good about it, he felt nothing but utter shame.
Chapter Ten
“Caroline, do join us.”
Her mother had sent word for her to put aside her sewing and come to the formal drawing room. They had a special guest.
With her hair freshly brushed and pinned up into a soft bun, Caroline checked her gown for creases before making her way to her mother’s elegant drawing room. Only the best guests were received by Adelaide in there.
The placid smile she had fixed to her face as she entered the room froze as she beheld the sight of the Countess of Lienz seated on one of her mother’s deep green silk-covered sofas.
“Your highness, may I introduce my youngest daughter, Caroline,” announced Adelaide.
Caroline’s heart began to thump loudly in her chest. Had the countess come to complain about Caroline’s behavior at the ball?
“Ah yes, I see the resemblance,” replied the countess.
“Caroline, this is the Countess of Lienz, formerly Countess Newhall. She has come to share some wonderful news with us,” said Adelaide.
Caroline dropped into a deep curtsey. “Your highness.”
The countess held out a hand, and Caroline was left with no choice but to accept it. The countess looked at her and smiled sweetly. “So, the rumors are true. You are a diamond of the first water. How can it be then that you are not yet married? Don’t tell me you are holding out for a love match, my dear.”
Adelaide softly chortled. “My husband and I have set the example of a happy marriage. Both my daughters believe in love.”
The countess coughed, and Caroline sensed it was taking every ounce of self-control for her not to mock Adelaide for having created such expectations of marriage for her daughters.
“Well, love may come to you, but don’t forget duty. You owe it to your parents to make a good match. Many marriages are based on friendship, or at least respect,” replied the countess.
“Yes, your highness.”
“Now go sit with your mother while we discuss the good news.”
Caroline took a seat on the sofa next to her mother, and placed her hands in her lap.
The countess smiled once more. “I have come to invite you to a house party at Newhall Castle. My son has decided to invite a select group of young ladies and their chaperones to spend the week at the castle. Isn’t that exciting?”
Adelaide turned to Caroline and took her by the hand.
“Lord Newhall feels terrible about your accident at the Serpentine, and wants to help make amends.”
Caroline’s gaze went from her mother to the countess.
The countess shook her head. “Julian was beside himself with remorse after we got home. While it was purely an accident, he blames himself for you having fallen into the mud on the lake shore. He feels he should have done more to save you. And while you of course would not hold him to fault, he is most keen for you to come to Derbyshire so that he can personally apologize.”
The countess’s words dripped with insincerity, but Caroline saw the beaming smile on Adelaide’s face. There were few reasons why an unmarried nobleman invited a group of eligible young ladies to spend a week at his country estate, and all of them contained the word marriage.
She couldn’t understand the countess’s reasons for inviting her, but from her mother’s reaction to the invitation, Caroline knew she had no choice.
“Thank you, your highness. I would love to attend the party,” replied Caroline.
The countess rose, and picked up her gloves. “My only regret is that I will not be able to host the gathering. My husband and I sail for the Continent in the next few days and he is unable to change his schedule. Newhall will find someone to assist with any preparations that I have not finalized before my departure.”
“How disappointing for you,” replied Adelaide.
“Yes quite.”
Caroline caught the edge of the countess’s remark, and forced herself not to frown. Lord Newhall’s mother seemed anything but displeased at not being able to attend the house party.
Once the countess had left, Adelaide and Caroline gathered once more in the drawing room.
“Do I really have to go? Could we cry off at the last minute?” said Caroline.
Her mother looked mortified. “No, absolutely not. Lord Newhall is one of the most eligible men in all of England. Of course, you must go.”
“But . . .”
Caroline was on the
verge of explaining to her about the several unpleasant encounters she’d had with Lord Newhall, but she thought better of it. It was bad enough that her parents thought her a tease; for her to turn down even the slightest opportunity to become Countess Newhall was unthinkable.
“But nothing. You wished to get out of London. And I know you wanted to go to Scotland, but look at this as a much better opportunity than just sitting up on the windswept ramparts of Strathmore Castle. Who knows, you may even get a husband out of the trip.”
A resigned Caroline went back to the upstairs sitting room and picked up her sewing. As she pushed the needle back into the hem of the nightshirt she was making for Francis, she swore.
“A whole week with bloody Newhall—that is all I need.”
Chapter Eleven
“A house party at this time of the year is a bit odd, don’t you think? The weather up north will be getting rather chilly. There won’t be a lot of opportunity for outdoor party games for a start. Could you imagine trying to play bowls and nine pins in the snow? I for one am glad I will not be attending.”
Caroline glanced at her mother and Aunt Mary, who were seated on a nearby sofa in the Saunders’s family sitting room, before answering her cousin. “You are not coming?”
“No. My friend Leah’s wedding is in a few weeks, and she has asked that I spend time with her while she makes the last of her wedding preparations. A trip to Derbyshire is simply out of the question,” replied Claire.
Caroline had spent the better part of the past day mulling over the Countess of Lienz’s visit and invitation. Lord Newhall could invite all of the unwed young misses from London to his party, but she, for one, would be spending as much time as she could away from him.
His pathetic behavior in sending his mother to apologize for the incident at the Serpentine filled her with rage. He had stepped back and deliberately made sure she fell into the mud. Her one regret from the afternoon by the lake was that she had not got to her feet fast enough to lob a large lump of wet mud in his direction. The next time she encountered Lord Newhall, she would give him a piece of her mind. He could take his apology and give it to someone gullible enough to believe it.
The Ice Queen Page 4
