Caroline (29 page)

In the candlelight, Caro's burnished curls and creamy complexion were set off to their best advantage. Nicholai decided that he had never seen her eyes more richly golden brown, her mouth sweeter, or her cheeks more attractively rosy. The more he looked at her, the farther Alec's warnings receded in his mind.

After dinner there was a lull in the activity, for everyone felt too full to dance. Many people remained at the table, talking and drinking, while others mingled upstairs in the spacious ballroom. Once Nicholai and Caro had gotten up from the table, he gently led her into the entry hall and stopped.

"Caro," he said in a low voice, his eyes unusually serious, "would you like to stroll for a moment in the garden? It's a beautiful starlit night and I feel sure that the fresh air would do us both good."

She paused, considering, then answered, "Well, I suppose it would be all right. I confess that I should adore a brief respite. I am not accustomed to the hectic pace of society!"

Moments later he was protectively draping her shoulders with the fox-trimmed pelisse, and they walked unhurriedly into the moonlit garden. The air had grown cooler with the darkness, but still felt pleasantly mild. The garden behind the Beauvisage house was part of a large enclave shared by several mansions. The walks were paved with flagstone and statuary lined the stone walls, indistinctly outlined in the shadows. Caro held back when Nicholai attempted to lead her very far from the house, instinctively feeling that something was amiss.

"I think we had better go back," she told him firmly. He stopped then, grasping her hands with his, which were warm and strong, unlike Everett's. She didn't want a repeat of that scene.

"Wait, Caro! I must speak with you. There are some things I feel I must say."

"Nicholai, perhaps you have had too much wine—"

His green eyes flashed down at her, and even in the darkness she could see the emotion in his handsome face.

"No, it is not the wine! It is you. If I am intoxicated, you are the cause! I—"

A deep voice, bitterly cynical, came from the direction of the house.

"Dear brother, I would suggest that you go somewhere and sober up. Don't run away, though, for I crave a bit of private conversation with you later."

Caro's heart beat high in her throat, and suddenly she was overcome with a feverish heat. Her eyes, though, were riveted on Alec, and she barely heard Nicholai speak.

"Deuce take it, Sacha! You're not God, you know. You cannot manage her life, or mine either. I am losing my regard for you pretty quickly these days!"

"I am desolated," Alec replied coolly. "Now, kindly leave us. Anything that you wish to say to me I shall endeavor to suffer through later." He paused ominously. "Then it will be my turn."

Nicholai was flushed and breathing hard in the cool night air.

"Caro, I don't know if I should," he began, turning to her, but broke off in mid-sentence at the sight of her face as she gazed at his brother. Wordlessly, he turned and left the garden.

Alec's handsome physique was outlined against the glowing house, and when he strolled toward her, Caro could see that he wore his officer's uniform. He looked so magnificent that she could hardly breathe as she watched him approach.

It was evident that Alec had worn the uniform all day, for he smelled of horses and fresh air. His deep-blue coat with long buff lapels and brass buttons fit him perfectly, while biscuit-colored breeches skimmed his muscular thighs, meeting black boots at his knees. He wore a waistcoat of the same buff shade, above which fell a simple lace jabot, and gold epaulets gleamed against his broad shoulders.

To Caro, however, his tanned face looked worn, his cheekbones more prominent than ever. Most alarming was the dark iciness of his eyes as they coolly appraised her appearance.

"Well, I see the duckling is a swan at last."

She put up her chin and replied, "I can't thank you enough for the dress, Alec. It's really too lovely—"

"That is apparent!" he laughed bitterly. Caro felt him grip her arms, his fingers biting into her flesh. "Sorry I'm late, but then I suppose one brother is as good as another, eh? I'm certainly glad to see that the social world agrees with you."

Stung by his sarcasm, she parried, "Isn't that what you have wanted? Haven't you said all along that I should find another man... anyone but you?"

His arms went around her then, and Caro caught her breath at the sheer strength of his grip. One hand came up to grasp the loose curls that fell over her shoulder, drawing her head back so that she was staring into his face. His eyes burned with rage and passion, and when he kissed her, his lips seemed to sear hers. His tongue plundered the softness of her mouth and then he was kissing her ear and blazing a fiery trail down her delicate neck. Her breasts rose and fell with emotion as Alec's lips found them, all the gentle teasing gone from his seduction.

He released her then, as suddenly as he had taken her, his eyes opaque in the silver moonlight and his jaw set in a hard line. Caro stumbled backward, pressing trembling hands up to her burning cheeks, her breath coming in loud gasps that seemed to echo in the vast walled garden.

"I hope you don't mind,
cherie,
" Alec said with a caustic smile, "but I should be very frustrated if I made that long ride home for nothing."

He turned then, disappearing into the brightly lit house.

Somehow, she found a stone bench and dropped onto it. Most of her hair had come down, tangled with pins and bruised rosebuds, and her face and neck throbbed from Alec's kisses. She was beyond coherent thought as bitter tears welled up in her eyes and trickled down her face. The feverish feeling of minutes before had given way to an icy chill that made her tremble as she wept.

It was a long time later that Caro managed to pull her hood up over her tangled curls and make her way back to the house. One of the maids saw her and ran over, alarmed at her appearance.

"Miss Bergman! Are you all right?"

Caro forced a wan smile. "As a matter of fact, Hannah, I don't feel very well. Just tired, I think, but I do believe I'll go on to bed. Would you explain to Mrs. Beauvisage for me?"

* * *

The next morning Natalya sat on Caro's bed, sipping tea and sharing her impressions of the evening.

"I had wonderful time! Philip Freneau is a superb dancer! How could you have gotten tired so early? I'll confess that I was having my suspicions about you and Nicky before Hannah came up to explain your absence. The odd part is that he never appeared again—not even to tell Maman or Mary goodnight."

Caro's eyes flickered as she looked up over her teacup.

"I—I think he may have left."

"How odd! Nicky is usually the one we have to force out the door at the end of a party—and he's never gone to his home without saying good-bye!"

"Perhaps he just felt too tired to face the crowd."

Natalya frowned, then shrugged her white shoulders, dismissing the subject.

"You know, Caro, Sacha arrived after you disappeared. He was looking for you, but I don't suppose you saw him. Anyway, he was still dressed from riding, but you can believe that Lydia didn't care. He could have been covered with horse manure and she would still have clung to him. Ugh!"

"Alec stayed then?" Caro asked huskily.

"Yes—I suppose you're sorry you missed him. Well, you shouldn't be, because he drank too much and was quite out of sorts."

"Oh..." she breathed.

"Let's be happy, Caro! You were a queen with a court last night and have no good reason for looking so downcast. Do you know that some of the men were wondering if you might be like Cinderella, from the fairy tale, who vanished at twelve o'clock?" Caro failed to smile at this, and Natalya grew more persistent. "Didn't you have a wonderful time? Don't deny it, you goose, because it was written all over your face!"

Caro mustered up all her strength as she attempted to brighten. "Of course, I had a very good time, and I truly appreciate all the work you and your mother and everyone else did on my behalf. You are all angels."

Natalya laughed with pleasure. "Tell me, did you meet your prince last night?"

"In a way, I suppose I did... but it wasn't a scene from a fairy tale."

Chapter 21

After nibbling at breakfast, Caro made an excuse to escape from the house and all the curious, concerned eyes that watched her. Donning her new crimson nithsdale, she set out on foot alone, hoping to clear her head and summon her inner resources.

As she made her way briskly up Third Street, passing Willings Alley, she mentally reviewed her meeting with Alec. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. So unjust! she seethed. To condemn me without even asking for an explanation! Nicholai is right—Alec takes too much upon himself! Crossing Walnut Street, still relatively deserted before noon, she continued on toward the High Street Market, determined now to find a way to Belle Maison.

"I must confront him," she decided. "I was so weak-kneed last night—letting him say those things to me and then melting in his arms like a spineless schoolgirl!"

By now, her little feet were almost running as she passed Chestnut Street, approaching the Work House and Gaol. Her mind was busily composing the heated speech she should deliver to Alec when suddenly she felt a hand grip her arm through the folds of her cloak. Startled, she nearly stumbled as she turned around.

The face of the man who held her arm seemed to cause a small explosion of light and pain in Caro's mind. Her nightmare was reality. Instinctively, she recoiled from him, knowing him, but frustratingly unsure of his exact identity. For a long moment he did not speak, but narrowed his pale-yellow eyes and smiled at her with chilling cruelty.

A tiny, wiry man of surprising strength, he was dressed in the height of fashion in an elaborate royal-blue velvet suit which did little to offset his grotesque face. His tight mouth and light, sunken eyes were ugly in themselves, but the effect was made horrifying by skin that was pockmarked and covered with scarlet blotches. Caro tried to back away, but his grip on her arm only tightened.

"Well," he said in a voice that made her flesh crawl, "I see I have found you at last. It has been a long ordeal, but I believe it was worth it."

"Who are you?" Caro cried with a fear born of suppressed recognition.

"You needn't be coy with me, my sweet. I have come to take you with me. We will be married tonight, and this time nothing can thwart my plans."

He pulled her closer and the nearness of his face filled her with revulsion. Forcing herself to think clearly, Caro relaxed in his grip as he eyed her with a mixture of suspicion and pleasure.

"Perhaps you've missed me, then? You've reconsidered?" he inquired in a whining tone, and she attempted a shy smile.

When he brought his reptilian eyes level with hers, she could sense his guard lowering and in one quick movement she jerked her arm away, pushing him down on to the pavement. Without a backward glance, she lifted her gown and nithsdale with both hands and ran toward High Street and the marketplace. Merchants were setting up their wares in the brick-pillared stalls as Caro darted inside. When she found a sheltered corner, she paused, hastily unfastening and shedding the crimson cloak. Then she was off again, speeding out the other side of the market and into an adjoining alley. Zigzagging between the buildings, she followed near the perimeter of Arch Street, emerging on Fourth, next to the Quaker Burying Ground. By now, her breath burned in her dry throat each time she inhaled, and her feet hurt in her tiny slippers. Pausing to clutch at the wrought-iron fence which bordered the cemetery, she spied a carriage waiting in front of the Academy building across the street. The driver had a kindly look, and Caro felt so desperate she decided to take a risk. After one furtive glance down Fourth Street, she darted across to the carriage and gazed beseechingly up at the driver.

"Sir, are you acquainted with Alexandre Beauvisage?"

"Why, I know who he is of course, madame," he replied in surprise.

"I am his ward. I am in terrible trouble, for a horrid man is chasing me and means to abduct me. I must get to my guardian. Will you please take me?"

The driver might have refused if she had looked less beautiful and helpless. Hesitantly he muttered, "Well, my employer isn't due until after luncheon, so... I suppose I could help you."