Gina was as bouncy as ever but she had a new ma
turity and confidence; being in love suited her.
Gideon’s parents had welcomed her warmly and an
August wedding date had been set. “And then we will
take a wedding trip to Italy! Gideon has always
wanted to go there, and since the war is over it is safe to travel. He says he would rather have me as a com
panion than anyone!”
“It sounds wonderfully romantic,” Caroline smiled. “Do you think you will find antiquities interesting?”
“If Gideon was there to explain them to me, I would
find”—she cast about for a suitable object—”icebergs
interesting!”
Caroline hesitated, then decided it was time to intro
duce her questions. “Gina, if Papa were to get... diffi
cult, would he be able to forbid your wedding?”
Her sister looked indignant at the thought. “He
wouldn’t dare!”
Caroline tried again. “But you know the odd fancies
he gets. Suppose he took it into his head to say you
couldn’t marry Gideon. Could he do that when the set
tlements have been signed?”
“What a shatterbrained notion, Carol If Papa tried any such foolishness, he’d go home by Weeping Cross.
Neither Gideon nor his parents would permit him to
back out of the contracts, and
I
certainly could not be persuaded to cry off. Besides”—her voice softened— “it is too late. Gideon and I are already one.”
Caroline started at this artless piece of information.
“Do you mean,” she asked cautiously, “that Gideon
has ... ?” She stopped, unable to think of a sufficiently
delicate way of asking for confirmation of her suspi
cions.
Gina nodded vigorously, half-shy and half-proud.
“Yes, it is what you think. Although it would be more
accurate to say that I caused it. My poor lamb was so determined to be a gentleman. I was shameless in my
persuasions. It made no sense to wait,” she said
earnestly. “We wanted each other so much. You must
know what I mean. Think of how you feel about Radford.”
Caught off guard, Caroline blushed a violent crim
son but she was saved from answering by Jessica’s en
trance into the bedchamber. Her aunt had heard the
last part of Gina’s speech, and she watched Caroline’s
reaction carefully. “Spare your sister’s blushes, Gina,”
she said in an artificially bright tone. “She is not such a
brazen piece as you or I.”
Gina looked at Jessica and chuckled, one woman-of-
the-world to another. “Not on the surface. But I dare
say that behind her ladylike manner her thoughts have
been the same as mine. Whose wouldn’t be, with a
man like Radford!”
If Jessica’s smile became a trifle stiff, neither of the
younger women noticed. Gina was rapt in lecherous
fantasy and Caroline distressed by the implicit false
ness of the situation. For a moment she was tempted to
tell these two closest friends about Richard, but cau
tion held her tongue. It would be unfair to burden
them with her problems prematurely. There would be
time enough to ask for comfort when the fat was in the
fire.
“Actually, Caroline, I had another reason for coming
in,” Jessica said. “I have been missing Linda, and
thought I would return to Wiltshire after the ball. Since
Gina and your parents will be staying on, you will not lack for chaperonage.”
Caroline looked at her aunt with a slight frown.
Something felt off-key about the statement, but she
couldn’t quite put her finger on it. “Of course, if that is what you wish. I shall miss you, but I cannot keep you by me forever. Will you visit again soon?”
When hares fly!
was Jessica’s thought, but she said
merely, “I will be at the wedding, of course. After that,
we shall see. I am sure you and your husband will
want to be alone at first.”
She saw Caroline regarding her with unfathomable
blue eyes. They had talked little but commonplaces
since coming to Wildehaven. Falling in love was mak
ing each of them private—especially since it was with
the same man. She swore once more that Caroline
would never be hurt by a love affair that should have
been over more than a dozen years before. In six
months Jason would be totally absorbed with his
lovely young bride, perhaps looking forward to the
birth of a child. It would be harder for her, alone and aching. She only knew that she must remove herself and give them time to become truly wedded.
She continued, “I am going to lie down now, and I
suggest you young ladies do the same. It is going to be
a long night.”
Her words were far more prophetic than she real
ized.
* * * *
Not having been invited to the dinner at Wilde-
haven, Richard partook of a light meal before going to the ball. There had been no contact with Caroline since
the day they were caught in the rainstorm, and he was
anxious to see her. Intuitively he felt matters were nearing the crisis point, and he hoped he would be
near if she needed him. He was sure she loved him,
but the forces of family and society were ranged
against them. Many would be critical of his desire to
take her from a splendid match; his justification lay in
his belief that she would dislike being a fashionable
lady, and in his own driving need for her.
His thoughts troubled, he was unenthusiastic when
Reggie joined him for dinner; their paths seldom
crossed, even though they shared the same roof. His cousin had been drinking and was in a surly mood.
“You were right about the Cornishman being off his
form in Bristol,” he said abruptly, helping himself to
roast woodcock.
Richard pulled his mind back to the present and
said politely, “I’m glad I could be of service.”
Reggie scowled. “Unfortunately, I didn’t trust your information and dropped some blunt on the match.”
“A gambler and his money are soon parted,” the
captain murmured.
His cousin glared at him. “I am sure you are too
much a dull dog to risk anything.”
“Very true,” Richard agreed as he pushed his plate
away. “I make it a rule never to bet material goods.
One’s life is so much more interesting a stake.”
“Are you saying I’m a coward for not going in the
Army?” Reggie snarled.
Richard was startled at the vehemence. Apparently
he had hit a nerve with his casual comment. “Not at
all. I have heard many things about you, but never that
you lacked bravery. There are any number of good reasons for avoiding the military that have nothing to do with courage.”
Mollified, Reggie took a deep gulp of claret. “I
wanted to join up,” he confided, “but my dear uncle
Wargrave would never permit it. He would pay my
debts but never give me enough of the ready to buy a commission. And I didn’t care to enlist as a common soldier.” He stared into his glass, apparently brooding
over how his life had gone wrong, then looked up sud
denly, his eyes sharpening. “You are mighty fine
tonight. Is there some entertainment in the neighbor
hood? It has been dashed dull around here.”
“There is a ball at Wildehaven for Lord Radford’s fia
ncée.”
“Ah, yes. The pretty blond chit.”
Richard remained silent, as any discussion of Caro
line could rapidly lead to a fight if Reggie started mak
ing crude remarks.
Reggie took another drink. “If he had known I was in the neighborhood, Radford would have invited me from common courtesy. After all, we will be neighbors
soon.”
“You would know that better than I,” Richard said. “I have never met the man.”
“Devilish high in the instep.” Reggie reached for the
bottle and poured another glass as Richard bid him
good night and left. By the time another bottle of claret
had vanished down his throat, he was feeling belliger
ent about the ball. Damned bad manners of Radford to ignore him. Why, he was an earl, or almost. Outranked
Radford. He would go anyway; Radford wouldn’t
have the audacity to throw him out. And it would be
something to do in the endless boredom of country
life.
Weaving slightly and bellowing for his valet, he
went upstairs to change into evening dress.
* * * *
After two hours of greeting guests at the entrance of the ballroom, Caroline felt as if her smile was chiseled
in granite. She looked her best in a creamy silk dress with embroidered bands of forget-me-nots exactly
matching her eyes. Betsy had contrived a simple tiara
of tiny cream-colored roses for her hair, and Jason had
sent a double strand of lustrous, perfectly matched
pearls for her to wear. It was a generous gift, accompa
nied by a charming note, and it made her slightly sick.
Her nerves were in an appalling state and she had
scarcely touched the sumptuous dinner preceding the ball. In the rush of greeting people, she had put aside
the knowledge that she must confront her father this
evening, but her hands were cold and her stomach
queasy. Given a choice, she would have fled down the
marble steps of Wildehaven with never a backward
glance.
Instead, Jason and Lady Edgeware stood beside her
and introduced the endless stream of relations and
neighbors. All knew of the engagement but she would
not be officially presented to the neighborhood until
after supper. Jason looked wonderfully handsome,
having given Wills, his long-suffering valet, free rein.
That worthy was continually frustrated by his mas
ter’s impatience; Radford frequently left his servant
behind when he traveled, dressed himself in the early morning when any real man of fashion was still abed,
and generally did not permit Wills full exercise of his sartorial genius.
Tonight, however, he was immaculately turned out
in formal black evening dress, his cravat tied in an
elaborate style of his own invention, the glint of a ruby at his throat. The Diabolical Baron to the life, Caroline
thought. Virility radiated from him, plus that quality
of controlled force that had so frightened her in the be
ginning. The thought that she might have to confront him as well as her father made her stomach give an
other lurch.
They were ready to retire to the ballroom when sud
denly Richard was crossing the hall toward her. The
quiet elegance of his evening dress announced to the knowledgeable that he joined other soldiers in favor
ing the tailor Scott. His jacket was not completely a la
mode, since it could undoubtedly be put on without
benefit of a valet, but there was no denying that the cut
flattered his broad shoulders and compact strength.
She looked at him, her soul in her eyes. He bowed and
gave her a warm, private smile that melted her bones.
“You look like Titania indeed,” he said softly as he
glanced at the roses in her hair. “Or Botticelli’s Spring.”
She smiled her acknowledgment of the compliment,
then said calmly, “It is good to see you, Captain Dai-
ton. May I present Lady Edgeware and Lord Rad
ford?”
Richard bowed to her ladyship, then shook hands
with Jason. The two men looked at each other measur
ingly, the younger curious about Caroline’s fiancé, the
older with a vague feeling of recognition. Jason said, “I
believe Caroline said you were staying at Wargrave
Park. What do you think of the place?”
“Impressive but neglected.”
“An accurate assessment. The place has not been
properly managed in many years. I hope Reggie Davenport will get a decent agent or sell it to me when he inherits. It is criminal for good land and people to be
mistreated as Wargrave Park has been.”
“Davenport has been staying there for the last few
weeks,” Richard said in a carefully neutral tone.
Jason raised one eyebrow. “Hiding from some mischief in London, no doubt.”
“You know each other of old?” Richard grinned at
how quickly Radford had analyzed his cousin’s unaccustomed presence in the country.
“Alas, yes. We have always acted on each other as fire and tinder.”
“Which is which?” Richard asked with interest.
Jason smiled and decided he liked the fellow. “We
always took turns—whoever speaks first is the fire; the listener goes up like tinder. Since my duties at the door
are done, let me introduce you to some of the other
guests. I gather Caroline and Mrs. Sterling are your
only acquaintance locally?”