‘So, are we agreed?’
There was the sensation of holding her breath, as though she was about to jump into icy water or walk out along a narrow ledge. ‘Yes,’ Caroline said. There was a guilty relief in surrender that she tried not to analyse too closely.
‘Then I think we should summon the staff, who are probably all agog about this morning’s incidents and making up the most lurid tales. We will tell them who you are and that we are to be married. There’s no disguising the clandestine nature of all of this, so let us hope they are both loyal and idiotically romantic.’
Idiotically romantic, like me. And I am also idiotically loyal, Gabriel Stone. Vows mean something to me.
* * *
The staff had been embarrassingly excited to be part of what they obviously saw as a Great Romance. Caroline promised to send them a new housekeeper as soon as possible and spent the afternoon immersed in practical details, which at least had the advantage of keeping her mind distracted.
Gabriel appeared to have employed the time creating a stack of letters which he sent off with the groom to the nearest receiving office. Dinner was formal and polite with only an exchange of the most trivial chitchat. Caroline made her excuses and retired immediately afterwards, frankly retreating from the domestic intimacy of tea in the drawing room.
At least Harriet, the personal maid who had been recruited in London, was sufficiently down to earth to ask questions. ‘Will you still be requiring me when you go back to London, ma’am? My lady, I should say.’
Caroline sat at her dressing table as the young woman unpinned her hair before brushing it out. ‘I need a lady’s maid, Harriet, and you’ve done very well. But can you manage elaborate hair styles and the care of fine fabrics? I will be a countess and that will mean a considerable social life and the clothes and jewels to go with it.’ Provided we are not completely shunned by decent society. ‘I quite understand if you think it will be too much and I would give you an excellent reference.’
‘Oh, no, my lady. I can do it.’ Her face broke into a happy smile. ‘I might have to learn a few things, but if you tell me when I go wrong, I learn ever so fast, truly I do.’
This is really happening. I have my affianced husband in the house, I have a lady’s maid, I have a wedding date. And I very much fear that the man in question is going to come to my door tonight. And then... Will I open it?
Chapter Fifteen
The knock on the door came at midnight. It was nicely judged, Caroline thought as she got up from the chair where she had been curled up with an unread book. Not a demanding thump, not a wary tap, not a secretive scratch. Just a mannerly light knock.
She opened it, and stepped back so that Gabriel could enter. He came in far enough to close the door behind him, then studied her as she stood there in her sensible flannel wrapper, suitable for any night-time emergencies that might call a housekeeper from her lonely bed. It took an effort not to clutch the lapels closed or fold her arms defensively across her well-shrouded bosom.
‘I have been thinking. We need a very frank discussion.’ He gestured to the ottoman atthe foot of the bed and raised an interrogative eyebrow.
‘Yes?’ Caroline retreated to her chair, tossing Byron, who was less than helpful under the circumstances, to the floor. Gabriel sat down and regarded her from beneath heavy lids. She did not make the mistake of thinking him sleepy.
‘You raised any number of objections to this match, as I recall. I am also aware that I have two, shall we say, sticking points, which have become stickier the more I considered them. I am not prepared to make a marriage in name only, but on the other hand I am not prepared to force an unwilling woman. I was wrong to try to pressure you by referring to my own reputation suffering.’ He shrugged. ‘I thought it might work, but I can’t blackmail you, Caroline. Just because we cannot see a way out of this now does not mean there is not some other solution if we think hard enough. But answer me this. If I had asked you to marry me in June, what would you have said?’
The question took her completely off balance. ‘Yes,’ she said, surprised at herself. ‘I would have said yes, I think.’
‘Why?’
‘Because...’ Caroline swallowed and studied her bare toes. ‘Because I found—find—you physically attractive. You know that.’ She fixed her gaze on the point where Gabriel’s robe formed a vee exposing bare skin and a curl of dark hair and tried to stop gibbering. ‘I found you intelligent and interesting. And although you were shocking you were also kind to me. Much kinder than my impetuosity deserved. And you did the right thing for Anthony when it meant a significant financial loss and you had no reason to want to help him.’
‘So, a mixture of gratitude and sexual attraction.’ She could not tell without looking at his face whether he was amused or annoyed.
‘And you were much better than the alternatives,’ she added frankly and found herself looking at him. That curl. Would it feel silky if she twined her fingers around it?
Now his expression was definitely sardonic. ‘Have any of those opinions changed?’
Caroline shook her head.
‘So your objections are because you feel my hand has been forced, not because you object to marriage to me as such?’
‘I suppose so. Yes.’ Strangely she was beyond embarrassment, driven by an instinct that only the truth would serve them now.
‘You are very frank, Caroline. I would expect any sheltered young lady to faint dead away before admitting to physical attraction.’
‘I must be honest with you. With myself. Coyness and misunderstandings are not going to help us, are they? If I had not already seen you, found you attractive, then I would never have made the proposal that I did. Which puts my so-called sacrifice for my brother in a different light, I suppose. It would hardly have been a sacrifice. Young women have to pretend that we have no idea about physical matters when of course we do. We certainly do not keep our gaze fixed above a man’s waist level.’ Gabriel’s lips twitched. ‘I was attracted by the way you moved,’ she confessed. ‘So it would be hypocritical of me to pretend I am shocked at the pro
spect of sharing a bed with you. Nervous and shy, yes. Shocked, no. But it would be very wrong to expect you to marry me.’
‘I find I am becoming strangely reconciled to the prospect, my lady.’