“Sssh.” Inexorably he drew her even deeper into his embrace. “You don’t want to shock your coachman.”
Her eyes flew wide. “Wh—”
He cut off her shocked question in the most efficient way. They had at least seven more minutes before they reached Bramshaw House; he intended to enjoy every one.
8
Caro woke the next morning determined to regain control of her life. And her senses. Michael seemed intent on seizing both—to what end she didn’t know—however, whatever, she was not going to be a party to it.
/> As she had been for the last half of their journey home from Leadbetter Hall.
Smothering a curse at her newfound susceptibility, at the tangle of curiosity, fascination, and schoolgirlish need that had allowed him to take such liberties and seduced her into participating as she had, she closed her room door, flicked her skirts straight, and headed for the stairs.
Breakfast and the fresh slate of a new day would give her all she needed to get her life back on track.
Gliding down the stairs, she inwardly grimaced. She was probably overreacting. It had only been a kiss—well, numerous rather warming kisses, but still, that was hardly cause for panic. For all she knew, he might have had enough, and she wouldn’t even need to be on guard.
“Ah, there you are, m’dear.” Sitting at the head of the dining table, Geoffrey looked up. He nodded to Elizabeth and Edward, both seated at the table, heads together, poring over a single sheet. “An invitation from the Prussians. They’ve asked me, too, but I’d rather not—other things to do. I’ll leave the giddy dissipation to you.”
That last was said with a fond smile that included both her and Elizabeth; while Geoffrey delighted in his family’s social prominence, since Alice’s death he no longer himself cared for any but the most simple entertainments.
Catten held Caro’s chair at the other end of the table; she sat, reached for the teapot with one hand, and imperiously held out the other for the invitation.
Edward handed it to her. “An impromptu alfresco luncheon—by which I assume they mean a picnic.”
She glanced at the single sheet. “Hmm. Lady Kleber is first cousin to the Grand Duchess, and is something of a figure in her own right.” Lady Kleber had written personally, inviting them to join what she described as “a select company.”
There was, of course, no chance of refusing. Quite aside from the discourtesy involved, the general’s wife was only returning Caro’s hospitality; it had been she who had started this round of entertainments with her dinner to rescue Elizabeth.
Sipping her tea, she suppressed her frown. There was no point trying to escape the outcome of her own scheming. All she could do was hope, almost certainly in vain, that Michael wasn’t one of Lady Kleber’s selections.
“Can we go?” Elizabeth asked, eyes shining, eagerness transparent. “It’s a perfect day.”
“Of course we’ll go.” Caro glanced again at the invitation. “Crabtree House.” To Edward, she explained, “That’s the other side of Eyeworth Wood. It’ll take half an hour by carriage. We should leave at noon.”
Edward nodded. “I’ll order the barouche.”
Caro nibbled her toast, then finished her tea. They all rose from the table together; once in the hall, they went their separate ways—Geoffrey to his study, Edward to speak with the coachman. Elizabeth went to practice her piano pieces—more, Caro suspected, so Edward would know where to find her and have an excuse to linger than from any desire to improve her playing.
The cynical assessment had floated into her mind without conscious thought; it was almost certainly accurate, yet…she shook her head. She was becoming too jaded, too scheming—far too much like Camden in her dealings with the world.
Regretfully she dismissed the desperate notion that had blossomed in her mind. There was no situation she could conjure to ensure that Michael would be otherwise engaged for the afternoon.
Reblocking the stream was out of the question.
They turned into the drive of Crabtree House just after half past twelve. Another carriage was ahead of them; they waited while Ferdinand descended and handed the countess down. Then the carriage rumbled on and theirs took its place before the front steps.
Handed down by Edward, Caro went forward, smiling, to greet their hostess. She shook hands with Lady Kleber, answered her polite queries and made Geoffrey’s excuses, then greeted the countess while Elizabeth curtsied and Edward made his bow.
“Come, come.” Lady Kleber waved them along the front of the house. “We will go onto the terrace and be comfortable while we await the others.”
Caro strolled beside the countess, engaging in the usual pleasantries. Elizabeth walked with Lady Kleber; Edward and Ferdinand brought up the rear. Glancing back as she gained the terrace, Caro saw Edward explaining something to Ferdinand. She’d been surprised Ferdinand hadn’t sought her attention—clearly he’d remembered Edward had been Camden’s aide.
Cynically amused, she followed the countess. Tables and chairs had been set to allow the guests to enjoy the pleasant vista of the semiformal rear garden ringed by the deeper green of Eyeworth Wood.
She sat with the countess; Elizabeth and Lady Kleber joined them. The general emerged from the house; after genially greeting all the ladies, he joined Edward and Ferdinand at another table.
The conversation was brisk; Lady Kleber, the countess, and Caro discussed impressions gained during the recent Season. Their subjects ranged from diplomatic suspicions to the latest fashions. Exchanging observations, Caro wondered, as she had increasingly over the past hours, if Michael had been invited.