Caroline (27 page)

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Authors: Cynthia Wright

BOOK: Caroline
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Antonia Beauvisage was exquisitely petite, with gleaming russet-brown hair and sparkling emerald eyes like Nicholai's. Her gown was a delectable pistachio green trimmed in palest rose, and atop her auburn curls was perched a lovely matching hat, exactly the right shape for her face. Even as she embraced her daughter, Antonia looked up to meet Caro's eyes, smiling at her as though pleasantly surprised.

Jean-Philippe Beauvisage was arrestingly attractive, a man of ageless charm and great magnetism. He was tanned, his hair gone white and his handsome face etched with lines that only added to his appeal. As they came up the footpath, Jean-Philippe lifted an eyebrow and flashed a smile at Caro that so reminded her of Alec that it instantly melted her heart.

* * *

It was late afternoon by the time they left Belle Maison. Caro felt perilously close to tears as she looked around her bedchamber for the last time. All traces of her occupancy had disappeared; the bed was so flawlessly made up that it appeared never to have been slept in.

Carefully, she withdrew Alec's shirt from a corner of her trunk and crossed over to enter his dressing room. She pulled open the door to his wardrobe and hung up the shirt, then reached inside to touch a familiar coat, rubbing the sleeve against her cheek. Her heart ached, for somehow she felt that by leaving Alec's house she was severing the bond that had grown between them.

Seeing that the door to his room was ajar, Caro peeked inside apprehensively. A maid she had never seen before was dusting, her back to the dressing room. The bed where she had become a real woman was neatly made up, all the chaotic wrinkles they had made now smoothed away.

Suddenly, as Caro tried to remember, the entire night took on a dreamlike quality of unreality that chilled her. There was a cold pressure on her heart that would linger through all the days of cheerful festivity ahead.

* * *

Antonia Beauvisage was, in Caro's eyes, a paragon of womanhood. Naturally charming and candid, it was impossible not to like her, and in Caro's case she inspired instant affection and trust. Even the self-assured, independent Natalya seemed to soften and relax in the presence of her parents.

In Jean-Philippe Beauvisage, Caro was so struck by the many similarities between father and son that at first she felt a shock of recognition whenever he smiled at her.

One thing about the sophisticated Beauvisages that fascinated her was the highly charged atmosphere whenever they were together. Caro was immediately aware of the strong sexual currents that ran between them, an amazing fact in light of their thirty-four-year marriage.

By the time the half-hour-long carriage ride from Belle Maison to Philadelphia was over, Caro had decided that the key to their youthfulness lay in their love for each other and their vital spirits. Though Antonia's tone of voice could be maternal, for the most part she conversed in the manner of a young girl.

As for Jean-Philippe, his eyebrows arched and his clear blue eyes twinkled with all the charm of a spirited young man, making it easy for Caro to imagine him as the dashing captain of a pirate ship who had captivated a young Antonia.

As the gleaming black carriage drew up outside the Beauvisage house on South Third Street, identically attired servants materialized to handle all the girls' baggage. Natalya and Katya walked up the steps with their mother, while Caro found herself guided by Alec's father. The housekeeper waited in the entry hall, attended by two immaculately garbed maids who took their wraps.

"Caroline," said Antonia with a warm smile, "this is Mrs. Forbes, our housekeeper. Did you meet her while we were away?"

"Yes, Mrs. Beauvisage. Actually, Natalya and I stopped by here several times."

"Oh yes! The plans for the ball! Well, I certainly hope that all the arrangements are made. Isn't it set for the sixth?"

"Don't worry, Maman," Natalya broke in. "We have seen to everything. Mrs. Forbes and Mrs. Reeves and, believe it or not, Danielle have all helped tremendously."

Antonia's finely drawn brows lifted momentarily. "Danielle? Have you seen much of her, then?"

"As a matter of fact, yes!" Natalya's voice rose. "Caro somehow took a fancy to her, and now they are the best of friends. Caro claims to have uncovered all the motives for Danielle's insufferable behavior and actually feels sorry for her!"

They were walking toward the front parlor. Antonia's jewel-like eyes were watchful as she turned to Caro to say, "Well, this is all very interesting. We shall have to talk about this later on, Caroline—alone."

Jean-Philippe left them to retire to his library, and after Mrs. Forbes scheduled a meeting with Antonia to discuss the ball, the three women were alone. The rich green-and-ivory brocade of the settee made a striking background for Antonia's understated beauty.

"Well, my dears, what mischief have you been doing? I imagine it was great fun for you at Belle Maison!"

Natalya cast a meaningful glance at Caro before saying, "Actually, Maman, Caro has not been feeling very mischievous. I have contrived to throw her together with my friends, who are quite gay as you know, but without much success. Can you believe that she refused a marriage proposal from Everett MacGowan?"

"Who? Do you mean the young man with the unruly red hair? Goodness, Natalya, isn't it rather early for proposals?"

"I thought so!" Caro burst out. "Besides, I did not love the man in the smallest way."

"I see," Antonia nodded. "Natalya, I cannot imagine why you are so belligerent about Caroline's decision. I thought you were a great believer in true love!"

"Perhaps, but in this case, Caro's love is ill spent on the wrong man. She will pine for him until it kills her, when she might have a chance for some happiness with a more worthy man!"

"Natalya!" Caro's eyes were wide with outrage.

"That is enough, I think," Antonia told her daughter sternly, noting Caro's dismay. "I believe that Caroline has been wrong to trust you with her confidences. Kindly refrain from revealing any more to me or to anyone else."

Bright spots of color flamed on the cheeks of both girls, each for different reasons. At that moment, tea and cakes arrived to provide a welcome distraction, and though Caro found the hot liquid soothing, she could not eat.

After tea, Antonia led the girls upstairs to their rooms. Natalya's was the same one she had occupied for seventeen years, charmingly decorated in periwinkle blue, with white lace accents.

Farther down the hall was the spacious bedchamber Antonia had chosen for Caro. The large canopy bed was hung with rich drapes embroidered with rose stitching on a white background. Roses were worked subtly into the white-and-gold carpet, while the tall windows had curtains of the same fabric that graced the bed. All the furniture was polished cherry, each piece unique.

"Oh," Caro breathed, "this room is too beautiful for me—"

"Nonsense!" Antonia exclaimed with a soft laugh. "If you are to make your home here with us you must be comfortable."

An icy hand squeezed Caro's heart.

"Yes..." she murmured, "you are so very kind to take me in. Alec told me how wonderful you both were, but I never imagined..."

Antonia's eyes flickered as she heard the name she had been waiting for.

"We are very pleased to have you here," she said simply. "Now tell me, how do you like Sacha? He has been fair to you as a guardian? I would not like to think he had shirked his responsibilities even though I must admit it is not a role I would have cast him in! I was quite surprised when Nicholai told us the news."

Antonia was laughing softly and Caro felt herself relax. She could not prevent the flush that crept into her face, however.

"Why, he has been—that is, I would not say he has shirked his responsibilities. Of course, he is very busy. But, he has been kind to me—and I am most grateful to him...."

"Oh, dear! I fear that you must detest the man to find it so difficult to compose a compliment!"

"No!" exclaimed Caro, her heart in her eyes as she looked up defensively. "That is, I have no cause to detest him. Actually, we have been rather good friends...."

Antonia smoothed back a loose curl that swept across Caro's temple. "Let us speak no more of Sacha. Why don't I leave you for a while—I'm certain that you are tired and would like to rest before dinner."

Antonia's smile was reassuring, and Caro felt the coldness in her breast thaw a little. She sighed and looked around her lovely room, remembering nights when the stars and trees had been her canopy, soft leaves had been her bed. Those days were gone and Caro tried to believe she would be happy in her new home.

 

 

 

Chapter 20

 

The next four days were the busiest Caro had ever known, or at least could remember. Antonia was always in the thick of things, and seemed to thrive on the happy activity. Jean-Philippe was seldom at home during the day, but one morning Caro saw him arrive shortly before luncheon. She had gone to her room to freshen up before joining the others in the dining room, and had just reached the middle landing on the staircase when he came through the front door. He strode to the parlor doorway, where he slipped his arm around Antonia's slender waist. Laughing softly, she let him lead her into the room. There was something poignantly familiar in Jean-Philippe's movements as he caught her in his arms, his eyes sparkling, before bringing his mouth down to cover hers in a passionate kiss.

Caro crept quietly back up the stairs to wait until she heard their voices float up to her. When she descended again, the entryway was empty.

Inside the dining room, Jean-Philippe leaned back in his chair, holding a glass of wine in one hand and clasping Antonia's hand with the other. She looked up, glowing, as Caro entered the room.

"Ah, Caroline! I imagine you are ready for a good meal. Come and sit down. The others will be right along."

Katya appeared momentarily, grinning at the three adults. Charmed by her guileless, precocious personality, Caro liked her immediately. Her hair was braided down her back in a lustrous ebony plait, and her azure eyes shone with energetic good spirits. She was proud of her intellectual prowess, showing off at every opportunity.

She seated herself next to Caro, chattering about her Latin lesson. Her father was quizzing her when Nicholai appeared, the young blond girl from the snowstorm on his arm. Caro's surprise was evident, increasing with the cheerful greeting accorded Mary by the other Beauvisages.

"Caro," Nicholai said with a smile, "I must introduce you to Mary Armstrong. Mary, this is Caroline Bergman, Sacha's ward."

Mary beamed. "We have met, Nicky. How are you today, Miss Bergman?"

Antonia leaned toward Caro. "Mary is like one of the family—she has grown up with Nicky and Natalya, and is close to all of us."

"I—I know," said Caro in confusion.

After lunch, Mary sought her out, asking for a moment alone. They slipped away to the library and sat side by side in a window seat.

"I know you must think this is all very odd," Mary giggled. "I could tell that first day that you imagined me to be one of Sacha's light o' loves, so to speak. Would that I were! I would adore it either of those Beauvisage men would give me a second look that wasn't brotherly! I wouldn't have you think I was playing both sides of the fence with them, though. Besides, I got the impression that you might have a feeling of your own for Sacha...?"

Caro was embarrassed, both by this newest revelation and Mary's frank question. She felt flustered by the other girl's open friendliness.

"I know! It's none of my affair," Mary supplied cheerfully. "But, you needn't worry. Sacha enjoys my company because I don't breathe down his neck in mad pursuit, but I've yet to have him bestow on me one of those burning looks that Lydia Chamberlain receives. What a witch she is!"

"You don't like her?" Caro asked, warming her new friend.

"Ugh!" she declared with feeling, tossing her blond curls. "I happen to know that Sacha doesn't like her either."

"He doesn't?"

"No—but I think he adores her body. Isn't that revolting? I imagine she is terribly abandoned. Men would have us think otherwise, but I suspect they like that sort of thing."

Caro colored, remembering her own night of abandon, and Mary wrinkled her nose knowingly.

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