More importantly, they must see her father safely removed from the threat of criminal involvement or, worse, prosecution. Her mind jumped to conclusion after conclusion, none of them good. She needed Jonathan to calm her anxiety and yet he hadn’t shown as he’d promised. She glanced to the ormolu clock atop the mantelpiece. It was already past four in the afternoon. She believed he would have paid call by now. Was he having second thoughts?
As if conjured by her wishing alone, the knocker sounded in the front hall and she waited, anxious to hear Croft announce Lindsey’s arrival, though she remained facing the fireplace with her eyes clenched closed against disappointment. At the sound of footfall in the hall, she blinked herself to awareness and turned to see Lindsey catch the doorframe and stop his entry. His eyes moved over her, his expression serious.
Her stomach knotted tight. Had he discovered her family’s situation? She needed to abandon cowardice and tell him the truth. With her decision made, she hardly spared time for a greeting, and then rushed on in a flurry of words.
“Thank goodness you’re here. I need to talk to you. My father is involved in a desperate situation.”
“I don’t like seeing you so upset, Caroline.” Lindsey came forward and stroked his thumb across her cheek. “Everything will be set to right.”
“No.” She backed away from his touch, too afraid his tenderness would sway her from purpose. “I visited you last night with the intention to reveal my concerns and was too quickly distracted. Please allow me to speak. Let me tell you everything.”
“There really is no need.” He took a step nearer, and again she hedged back. “I love you. Nothing is going to change my feelings for you.”
“You don’t understand.” She wrung her hands and implored he listen. “Please.”
He nodded and opened his mouth, but before he could interject with another word, she hurried on.
“My father has long admired fine art. He acquired a talent for oil painting at a young age and practiced his craft religiously, often striving to reproduce the masterful work of the classic artists he studied. He became quite adept and his reproductions were nearly indistinguishable from the authentic pieces he admired.” She glanced at Jonathan, quick to note his expression had become pensive, his brows lowered and jaw tight, as if he struggled to keep silent.
“While we lived in Italy, a stranger expressed an interest in one of my father’s paintings. Perhaps it was a bit of misplaced vanity, or all along he thought only of my future and the monies needed to offer me societal introductions, but regardless, Father agreed to produce a particular work and leave it unsigned. My parents worried profusely after I survived my accident, and always carried with them a concern for my future wellbeing and the ability to find a husband who would care for me despite my health concerns. I can readily understand how my father was tempted by the large sum offered for his painting. I didn’t know at the time our financial security was in peril. Females are kept woefully uninformed, never mind a daughter who believes her father infallible.
“But it became a slippery slope after that first exchange. The stranger demanded more artwork and paid less, extorting my father with the threat of exposure. Financial security was one thing to consider, but his daughter’s reputation and future proved another altogether. Scandal is a debutante’s nemesis.
“So, unwittingly at first and then later most decidedly, my father bowed to this horrible man’s wishes, supplying painting after painting, suspecting or mayhap fully knowing they were being sold as originals. When at last he broke free, we returned with haste to England.”
“I’m sorry your family has suffered at the hands of these despicable thieves.”
“That’s not all.” She widened her eyes and implored he allow her to finish.
“Go on then, love.”
“This net of dishonesty thrives in England as well. There’s a dark market for paintings, whether authentic or forged, bought and sold to collectors and investors without anyone the wiser.”
“Yes, I’m too aware.” Jonathan’s voice acquired a conflicting tone.
“I believe, due to financial crisis, my father may be courting disaster again. I should have wondered at why he seemed anxious to insinuate himself into art circles here after his experiences in Italy. I was too consumed with my own concerns.” She shook her head against the burn of fresh tears and blinked rapidly, her voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know how to help him, but you do. You know powerful, influential people. Please tell me you’ll assist in this.”
“I’ve no need.” He approached and placed his palms on her shoulders.
“No need?” Her voice broke with distress. “But I—”
“Caroline, I know all this already. Everything you’ve just told me.”
“You do?” She reared back, unable to comprehend what he was saying.
“Yes. I just came from meeting with your father. You’ve nothing to worry over. The matter is resolved. I was also able to supply him the funds needed to settle the overdue debts.”
“But you told me your funds were—”
“I promise I’ll explain every detail to you later. You needn’t worry any longer.” He changed the subject abruptly. “Besides, I wish to discuss a different matter altogether.”
“Thank you. I don’t know what to say except thank you.” She paused, only a heartbeat, all fear and pent-up tension dissipating. “If you knew all this, why ever did you allow me to carry on?”
“You were quite insistent, and I wouldn’t dare interrupt. I’m smarter than that. Besides, I believe you needed to say it aloud.” Lindsey pulled her against his chest, and she relished the warmth and strength he offered. “You accomplished the most difficult task. I feared if I were the one to deliver the telling of your father’s predicament, you might resent me as the bearer of such distressing news.”
“Never. When you truly love someone, you hold nothing back, no matter how difficult or ugly the circumstances.” She wriggled loose so she could stare up at his face. “So everything is truly resolved?”
“Not quite everything.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
He didn’t lie. Resolving the issues with Lord Derby had required a bit of finesse but in the end progressed seamlessly. With the fencer relocating under the threat of exposure, Lindsey didn’t anticipate repercussions. Instead, he’d insisted Lord Derby accept the four thousand pounds “found quite unexpectedly,” though he didn’t elaborate, to compensate for the extortion and duress Lord Derby had experienced at the hands of the miscreants.
At first Derby was reluctant to accept the funds, uncomfortable with the entire situation, but then reasoned the pound notes would be left to thieves and other criminal perpetrators. Lindsey knew debt was more a matter of honor than money, and Lord Derby’s pride willed out. In the end, Lindsey’s father’s hidden cash had resolved a prickly circumstance.
Lindsey saw it as a small sacrifice, most especially as he’d asked Lord Derby for Caroline’s hand in marriage shortly after. His status and wealth remained unsure, and there was the troubling matter of the legacy’s second condition, but he couldn’t survive another day without knowing Caroline would be his wife. He’d already lived too many days without her. Somehow, he’d find a way to keep them financially secure and keep her in the circle of his arms. Becoming a horse breeder seemed a small concession.
And now the lady waited.
“Caroline.” Saying her name brought a wealth of joy to his heart. “There is something I need to tell you.” He gathered her close. “Before I met you, anger was often my most dependable emotion. I learned to master life by pretending not to give a damn, but perhaps I fooled even myself and achieved too much success in the charade. The role of cynical libertine suited, as I cared little for anything lasting in my life. But you’ve opened my heart.” He paused, unsure of how to proceed. His emotions could never be expressed by words
. Words were too ordinary. He needed actions in equal measure.
She stared up at him, anticipation alight in her beautiful blue eyes, as if she measured the value of his declaration.
“Knowing you’re not mine, that our hearts are not given to each other, is a condition I find unbearable. Will you marry me, Caroline? Will you be my wife?” He was greedy for her kiss, but he wouldn’t do a thing until he had her answer.
And yet she didn’t speak, her brow pleated with worry. His heart gave a constricted lurch. Hadn’t she spoken of love? Had something changed?
And then, at last:
“Jonathan.” She pulled away slightly and laced her fingers in his, palm to palm. When she looked at him tears had gathered in her eyes, her voice tightened, awash in emotion. “Heretofore I believed I could suffocate my deficits under a blanket of love and desire, yet I find it is those two qualities that insist I decline your proposal.”
He began to object, and she reached up and silenced him with a finger to his lips. Her voice dropped to hardly more than a whisper.
“You’ll need an heir someday. As much as I want a child, it remains uncertain my body will cooperate. I cannot knowingly accept.” Her voice grew ragged. “I love you thoroughly. Please know that alone is my greatest joy, and refusing you is my greatest disappointment.” Despite she’d barely managed the words, they were bold and fervent, two qualities that caused her mother to shudder, but Caroline had always chosen to speak her mind, and she wasn’t going to stop now.
“I don’t care about producing an heir.”
“But you will.” She regained clarity and her voice grew stronger for it.
“Just think of all the fun we’ll have trying to prove the physician wrong.” He offered her a shadow of a smile. When she didn’t reply, he continued. “Producing an heir was my father’s obsession, not mine. He had no right to add that condition to my inheritance, and I won’t allow him to dictate my life beyond his own.”
“You’re angry and confused.” She shook her head for emphasis. “Perhaps this is more about defying his wishes than falling in love.”
“You can’t possibly believe we aren’t meant to be together. You won’t accept my proposal?”
“I can’t allow you to make a sacrifice you will come to regret in time. I’m thinking of your future, even if you won’t.”
“You’re wrong. My future is all I think about, and you’re the reason.”
His reply stole her breath away.
“I love you, Caroline.”
“And I love you. That’s why I could never deny you your heritage and the legacy you have yet to leave the world. Why struggle to complete the condition of your father’s will if you’ll throw it all away now?”
She moved from his embrace so she could find the strength to ask him to leave. She had no answer for their predicament, and while she’d known saying goodbye would be heartbreaking and anticipated the pain, there could be no mistaking she’d underestimated the impact.
“I think you should go.” She took a deep breath and forced herself to continue. “I can’t marry you, but I have no regrets. I will always remember you. You are my first—”
“I am your last.” He pulled her forward, his words vehement as his mouth claimed hers. “I am your only.”
* * * *
He punctuated that statement with a bone-melting kiss meant to sufficiently silence the ridiculous argument she waged, and for a moment he believed it worked. She softened under the pressure of his mouth. Her lips parted, and he captured her breathy little sigh. But just as quickly he felt her tense within his grasp.
“What are you doing?” She wriggled to free herself, but he held tight.
“Jolting your memory, because you love me and you seem to have forgotten.”
“It’s not that simple, and you know it.”
“Isn’t it?” He gave her a little shake. “It’s what you told me you wanted above anything else. Love.” He raised his voice, frustration getting hold of him now. “The most impossible gift that I never thought I could give, and yet here I am, offering you my heart, and you’re refusing it.”
“What’s happening here, Caroline?” Lady Derby came through the doorframe, her face sketched with lines of worry.
“Your daughter and I are having an invigorating disagreement.”
“Argument,” Caroline gritted out.
Lindsey wouldn’t allow Caroline to misrepresent the situation. Perhaps her mother would decipher the scene and offer meaningful advice. He would thank her for the favor later.
“Good heavens, haven’t I taught you better than to disagree with a gentleman?” Her mother’s admonishing tone was almost too much to bear. “Please excuse her behavior, my lord. At times, my daughter doesn’t know what’s best for her. My vigilant advice has brought her to this moment. I won’t allow her to ruin it.”
“Lindsey.” Lord Derby entered the room and rushed forward to clasp the earl’s hand in a hearty shake. “I thought I heard Croft greet you in the hall. What’s happening here? Why is everyone looking so grim?” Her father moved his attention from Lindsey to his wife, and then settled at last on Caroline.
“Hello, Father.” Caroline caught her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Dearest.” Lord Derby’s smile grew. “For a moment, with all the commotion, I feared your mother entered and found the two of you caught in an amorous embrace. Some scandalous act that would cause me to demand Lindsey propose on the spot to save your honor.” Derby was beaming now, his brows raised in expectation as he eyed the earl.
“Indeed.” Lindsey grinned. “What were you thinking? Something like this, mind you?” He yanked Caroline into his arms and captured her mouth in a kiss that went on longer than it should. She protested at first, but with hardly true initiative. They’d proven the point, settled the matter, and yet they didn’t come apart until Lady Derby’s insistent throat clearing cut through the haze of their ardent embrace. “There. That does it. I’ll return with the special license and we can get on with the planning.”
“You’ve tricked me,” Caroline protested softly.
“I had to have you, love. I’m selfish that way.” He squeezed Caroline’s hand as he released her and turned toward Lord Derby. “She’s a bit of troublesome baggage at times, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love your daughter completely.” Over Caroline’s laughing protest, he bowed to his future mother-in-law, shook his future father-in-law’s hand with vigor, and headed for the door.
Chapter Thirty
Two weeks later
The wedding gathering was small, ceremony brief, and the scrumptious celebratory breakfast afterward seemingly never-ending, but at long last Lindsey was alone with his wife. In bed, as a matter of fact. Without a single care. They were in a guest room at Kingswood Manor while the interior underwent a complete renovation, a decision meant to banish ugly memories and claim the estate as their home.
A murmuring among the wedding guests included the observation the renowned rakehell could only have abandoned his notorious habit for claiming the ton’s attention. In that opinion, they were correct. All his devotion and dedication now belonged to his beautiful wife.
Thankfully, his newly acquired half brother hadn’t shown up at the church to cause a scene or incite an argument, but Lindsey anticipated some type of altercation in the future. Powell had too much at stake to surrender without a fight and, like an unread chapter in a book, Lindsey sensed his father’s legacy instigated the action. Nevertheless, Lindsey was open to establishing a better relationship with Powell, their uneasy truce a tenable solution for now. But those were thoughts left for another day.
He glanced across the bedchamber, where his distinguished charcoal grey Merino wool formalwear, embroidered in a design that would have thrown Brummell into a fit of jealousy, lay crumpled and discarded on the floorboards near his wardrobe. His
bride’s diaphanous wedding gown, an elegant design hemmed in silver-threaded seed pearls and frothy imported lace, billowed in a gossamer cloud where he’d divested her of the garment beside the mattress.
Now they reclined in blissful undress beneath the soft-woven linens, their bodies still damp and sensitive after an adventurous bout of lovemaking, and he couldn’t keep from grinning. His wife was his to tempt, love, and spoil to his heart’s content for the rest of his life. With all the frenetic planning, they hadn’t managed more than a few stolen kisses and affectionate fondles. Tolerating that specific torture had proven unbearable. He planned to make up for lost time. Already his body burned for her touch once again.
“It all worked out in the end, didn’t it?” She cast a glance to the far wall, where the Nona, Decima, and Morta hung in glorious display. “Those three little paintings caused an awful lot of trouble.”
“Yes, but they led me to you. Thankfully, Barlow’s appraisers confirmed their authenticity. I’ve no desire to look beyond the demands of my father’s will, his legacy be damned.” Snaking a hand beneath the sheet, he reached for his wife, only to stall at her next, most unexpected statement.
“You should have told me sooner about the second condition to your inheritance.”
“And risk losing you? I might be reckless, but I’m not daft.”
Lindsey knew this subject would arise sooner or later, and he’d wagered on the latter and lost. As a betting man, he still believed if there was even a one percent chance he could get his wife with child, he intended to win that gamble.
“I’ve better suggestions for how we might pass our wedding night than discuss ill-begotten edicts and ridiculous demands.” Lindsey had discreetly confided in Barlow, who understood the situation with remarkable empathy. The second contingency was left unfulfilled and ignored for the moment, and while the monies and properties were all reordered to reflect Lindsey’s endowment, there was no reason the matter couldn’t be revisited in the future if need be. “I’ve received my inheritance, and that’s all that matters. I’d rather not think about my father at the moment.”
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