In Good Company (26 page)

Squaring her shoulders, she took a step back from him. “If you need reminding, Mr. Mulberry, I’m just the nanny. That means a gentleman in your lofty position doesn’t need to be concerned about my feelings, especially since you’re paying me so handsomely. I’ll thank you to remember that.”

Sending Everett the smallest curtsy she could manage, Millie marched her way to the cliff path, determined to put any lingering feelings she might have for the gentleman firmly aside.

12

R
esting his hands on his knees, Everett watched Caroline, along with Gertrude and Nora—who’d moved back into Caroline’s cottage but was staunchly refusing to ever be Caroline’s companion again, paid or not—frolic in the sudsy foam of the ocean. They were laughing and splashing each other, all three ladies garbed in the latest sea attire, which consisted of a black smock that reached past the knees, pants that went all the way to the ankle, and black stockings that covered every single toe. On their heads were black hats with large brims, covered in bows and netting, and Everett couldn’t help wonder why ladies would even want to go to the beach, given that they had to feel a little . . . stifled.

“Care to join me in the water?” Dudley asked, pushing up from the blanket next to the one Everett was lounging on.

“I think I’ll just sit here.”

“Suit yourself,” Dudley said, looking completely delighted by Everett’s refusal to join him as he set off over the sand, his steps downright jaunty.

Feeling a small stab of annoyance when his friend immediately
gravitated to Caroline, Everett pushed the annoyance away when the thought struck him that at least someone was making certain Caroline enjoyed the day. He was obviously not up for that particular task, especially since he was in a foul frame of mind.

Flopping back on the blanket, Everett threw an arm over his eyes as his thoughts began to wander and then turned rather disturbing.

For weeks he’d been
thinking
something was wrong, but now there was no sense denying it any longer—he
knew
something was dreadfully amiss.

Unfortunately, what was amiss had nothing to do with Caroline, their friends, the children, or even Millie. No, what was wrong had everything to do with him, but it was extremely uncomfortable coming to that troubling conclusion.

He was not, as he’d always convinced himself he was, a charming, debonair, and likeable sort. Instead, because he’d purposely distanced himself from Millie and hadn’t even bothered to offer her so much as an explanation as to why, he couldn’t claim to be charming in the least. He’d also taken to blaming Caroline and their friends for his ill-temper, which meant he certainly wasn’t debonair. And quite honestly,
likeable
wasn’t a word that described him either.

Better descriptions might be inconsiderate, boorish, and . . . selfish.

Coming to that conclusion was disconcerting, but there was no avoiding the hard truth any longer.

His certain belief in his superiority over everyone except those in his social set had finally succeeded in turning him into a gentleman he was not proud of in the least. He’d somehow been holding Millie responsible for his attraction to her, which was ludicrous. It wasn’t as if Millie had been practicing her
feminine wiles on him, especially since he was fairly sure she didn’t even realize her appeal.

She was sweet, innocent, and had a most charming way about her. She’d been given little to no advantages in life, but instead of turning her bitter, that lack of advantages had given her a strength he envied.

He’d had every advantage in life—had gone to the best schools, visited foreign countries, could purchase anything he wanted on a whim—and yet, he’d taken to brooding quite often of late, unhappy with his lot in life, yet blaming everyone but himself for that unhappiness.

It was unacceptable, the brooding, and he realized he needed to change before he became one of those nasty old men who spent their time grumbling about everything and everyone, and one whom no one wanted to grow old with.

“Everett, be a dear and fetch me my parasol,” Caroline called.

Opening his eyes, Everett sat up, reached for Caroline’s parasol, and rose to his feet. Making his way across sand that had gotten remarkably hot, he waded into the surf and reached Caroline’s side a moment later, earning a frown from Dudley in the process. Handing Caroline the parasol, he smiled when she whipped it over the large hat that was already covering her head and smiled back at him.

“You should stay in the water with us,” she said as Gertrude and Nora, who were standing right beside her, nodded in agreement. “You’re looking somewhat flushed, and you really shouldn’t allow yourself to get too warm.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” he said before he drew in a breath and decided there was no time like the present to start making amends. “You look very lovely today, Caroline.”

Caroline blinked somewhat owlishly back at him. “That’s a charming thing for you to say, Everett. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, and . . . may I also say that I’ve come to the realization that I’ve been less than pleasant of late, even though I promised you I’d stop being so boorish, so I must now beg your forgiveness once again. I’ve had a lot on my mind, but that isn’t an acceptable reason for not paying you the proper amount of attention.”

Caroline blinked again, right as Gertrude, Nora, and Dudley exchanged significant looks before they turned and splashed away from them.

“Are the thoughts that have plagued your mind lately of any great importance?” Caroline asked as she began twirling her parasol around.

“They’re a touch troubling, but nothing for you to worry about.”

Instead of looking reassured, Caroline’s eyes widened before she sloshed closer to him and lowered her voice. “You haven’t had a change of heart about the ball, have you?”

“Since Miss Pickenpaugh would have my head if I did, no, of course not.”

“I meant about what’s to happen at the ball.”

Taking a moment to collect his scattered thoughts, Everett considered Caroline, taking in the trace of panic now resting in her eyes, and the heightened color on her cheeks that he knew wasn’t from the sun. He’d been with her every afternoon and evening since the peacock disaster, but they hadn’t talked about anything of importance. They certainly hadn’t talked about what exactly she was expecting of him at the ball. Instead, Caroline had taken to clinging to him quite often when they were with their friends, laughing at almost every little thing he said, even though he now knew he’d been less than amusing of late.

Now that he actually thought about it, her behavior made him realize that he’d been unfair to Caroline. He’d apparently
caused her to become insecure in their relationship, but . . . he wasn’t exactly sure why she was so determined to continue on with him since he obviously hadn’t been treating her very well.

Releasing a breath, he lifted her hand and placed a kiss on her salty fingers. “I think it’s past time you and I go somewhere private so that we may speak frankly with each other.”

Caroline’s eyes widened to the size of small saucers. “About what?”

“About us, the ball, what you expect, and . . . just everything.”

“I don’t think there’s any reason for that, Everett,” Caroline said quickly. “You have to know what I expect, what our friends expect, and what society expects at this point. You’ve made me promises, and I’m going to hold you to those promises.”

Everett frowned. “But . . . why do you want to hold me to those promises? Forgive me, but there are times I get the distinct feeling you don’t particularly care for me, let alone love me.”

“Of course I don’t love you, Everett,” Caroline whispered furiously. “Love is for those feeble-minded common people—not people like us. But I respect you, respect your position within society, and you and I both know we’ll be a force to be reckoned with once we’re married.”

Everett blinked, not certain how to proceed. “While I truly used to believe that would be enough for us to build a marriage on, I’ve recently changed my mind,” he said slowly. “Marriage is for life, Caroline, and I do think a bit of affection, and even . . . love, should play a part in the equation.”

Caroline snatched back her hand. “You don’t love me any more than I love you, but . . .” Her eyes narrowed. “This reluctance on your part doesn’t have something to do with that dreadful Miss Longfellow, does it? Because honestly . . . if it does . . . Well, need I remind you . . . she’s the nanny?”

“I’m well aware of Millie’s status, Caroline, and—”

“You’re back to calling her Millie again?” Caroline drew herself up. “It’s unacceptable, Everett, this fascination you seem to hold for that woman. Don’t think I didn’t notice how you stepped in to rescue her when she got stuck in that tree, even though you should have let one of the footmen do it.” She shook a finger at him. “I’m a reasonable woman, Everett, and know full well you’ll have your little amusements after we’re married. I’m perfectly willing to overlook your indiscretions, but I will not tolerate you flaunting them under my nose.”

“You’ll overlook my indiscretions?”

“Of course, it’s what we ladies do, just as I’m sure you’ll overlook mine.”

His blood began rushing through his veins. “You intend to have indiscretions?”

“Not until after our children are born, of course, but . . . it’s only fair. And I do think, in order for us to have a successful marriage, we should at the very least be honest with each other.”

As he stood there, with the surf gently lapping over his feet, Everett had no idea whether he should laugh at the absurdity of the conversation or flee from the woman who was calmly speaking about completely unacceptable ideas—as if those ideas shouldn’t surprise Everett in the least.

“What about the vows we’re going to take—especially the one regarding being faithful to each other?”

Caroline waved the question away. “No one I know takes their vows seriously, and it’s not as if either one of us is overly religious.”

Something unpleasant settled on his tongue, something that tasted remarkably like regret. While it was true that he and Caroline had never spoken much about God—even though they did attend church every week when they were in the city—Everett had never realized Caroline held such a jaded view. Even though
he was not, as Caroline had put it, overly religious, he was of the firm belief that vows spoken in front of God should be honored at all costs. In fact, ever since he’d become acquainted with Millie, he’d been somewhat fascinated by how easily she prayed, spoke of God, and—

“Both of you need to laugh right now as if I’ve just told you the most amusing joke,” Nora said as she splashed her way up to them. She let out a very credible laugh before she leaned closer and began whispering very rapidly. “If you’ve neglected to notice, everyone—and I mean everyone—has started edging your way, and . . . they’re looking a little rabid.”

Looking to the right, and then to the left, Everett discovered that Nora was speaking nothing less than the truth. Everyone at Bailey’s Beach seemed to be moving his way—people who’d been bobbing in deeper depths were bobbing closer, people who’d been milling in the shallow surf were now milling in his direction, and people who’d been sunning themselves on the sand had apparently decided to take this particular moment to cool off. Turning back to Caroline, he offered her his arm, which she completely ignored. She gave him a cool smile, right before she turned her back on him.

“Dudley, be a dear and see me home, will you? I find I’m suddenly not feeling very well,” she called before she started wading Dudley’s way. She apparently had no qualms about taking the arm Dudley offered her and then flounced out of the water without a single glance his way.

“That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I interrupted your argument,” Nora muttered. “And it certainly didn’t put a stop to all the speculation spreading over Bailey’s Beach.”

Taking Nora’s arm, Everett helped her out of the water, but as soon as they reached the beach, he realized that Caroline and Dudley were gone.

“Will you go after her?” Nora asked quietly.

“Do you think I should?”

Nora considered him for a long moment. “No, but I do think you should take some time to really think matters over before you make the biggest mistake of your life.” With that, Nora sent him a rather sad smile before she headed back into the water, leaving him with only confusing thoughts for company, and everyone still sending speculative glances his way.

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