As if to confirm her reading, Therese smiled and patted her arm. Reclaiming her cane, she turned toward the drawing room. Caro paced beside her as they slowly strolled back into the light.
Just inside the windows, Therese paused. Caro followed her gaze—to Michael. He’d just walked into the drawing room in company with the Prime Minister and the current Foreign Minister, George Canning.
“Unless I much mistake the matter,” Therese murmured, “your ‘full tide,’ as the Bard so aptly put it, is upon you. I wished to reassure you that you are on the right path, that when opportunity presents, you should not pass it up, but instead take heart, claim your courage, and seize the day.”
With that, Therese inclined her head and regally moved away. Caro remained for a moment, committing her words to memory, laying them aside for later examination, then glided forward to join the nearest group. To return to her annointed role.
Michael saw Caro join a group of guests on the far side of the room. Absentmindedly, he tracked her, his attention otherwise on the conversation between the three gentlemen beside him—Liverpool, Canning, and Martinbury. He made no attempt to join in; he knew Liverpool and Canning wished to speak with him, but were waiting for Martinbury to leave them.
Caro moved on, joining the group of which Honoria was a part. He caught the glance his lover and his sister exchanged; pleased, he tucked it away—another example of how well Caro fitted in his life.
A movement in a group beyond the first drew his attention. Arrogantly assured, Devil detached himself from two grand dames, and went to join his own. Honoria was standing with her back to Devil, yet as he neared, she turned.
Across the large room, Michael watched his sister’s face—saw her heart-stopping smile, saw her expression soften, almost glow. Glancing at Devil, he glimpsed, not the same but an answering response, the outward expression of a connection so deep, so powerful it was almost frightening.
Was frightening, given the man on whom it had laid its mark.
Honoria’s words replayed in his ears. The one thing…that gave me all that was truly important to me.
He’d thought she’d meant on the physical plane, had searched for what was important to Caro on that basis. Yet perhaps Honoria had meant something else—something simpler, more ethereal, and much more powerful.
The one thing on which all else depended.
“Ah, Harriet! Well met, my dear.”
Michael refocused to find Liverpool greeting his aunt Harriet. Martinbury nodded and stepped away. Canning bowed over Harriet’s hand as Liverpool turned to Michael. “Opportune as ever, Harriet—I was about to have a word with Michael here.”
The three—Liverpool, Harriet, and Canning—all turned to him and drew closer; for one fanciful instant, Michael felt as if they’d cornered him. Then Liverpool smiled, and he was no longer sure the impression was such a fantasy.
“Wanted to let you know, m’boy, that George here is moving on sooner rather than later.” Liverpool nodded to Canning, who took up the tale.
“The extended negotiations with the Americans rather took it out of me, what?” Canning tugged down his waistcoat. “It’s time for fresh blood, new energy. I’ve done my best, but it’s time I handed the baton on.”
Harriet was watching with an eagle eye, ready to step in if anything showed any signs of going awry.
Liverpool huffed out a breath and looked over the room. “So we’ll have a vacant seat at the cabinet table, and at the F.O., in a matter of weeks. Wanted you to know.”
His features impassive, Michael inclined his head. “Thank you, sir.”
“And Caro Sutcliffe, heh?” Liverpool’s gaze found Caro; his eyes lit with something close to delight. “Quite a find, m’boy—a supremely capable lady.” His gaze returning to Michael’s face, Liverpool was as close to jovial as he ever became. “Glad to see you took my hint to heart. Difficult thing these days, promoting an unmarried man. The party doesn’t have the stomach for it just now. And you couldn’t have chosen better. I’ll look forward to receiving the wedding invitation in the next few weeks, what?”
Michael smiled, made the right noncommittal response; he suspected only Harriet picked up his sleight of words, the subtle evasion. Nevertheless, when with the usual comments and assurances the group broke up, Harriet merely smiled and went off on Canning’s arm.
Relieved, Michael escaped, strolling to join another group, eventually circling around to come up with Caro.
Caro looked up and smiled when he joined her. With a word and a look, she drew him into the conversation she’d been having with Mr. Collins from the Home Office.
She was glad Michael had come to her; there were a number of people she thought he should speak with before the evening was over. With a smile, they parted from Mr. Collins. Her hand on Michael’s arm, she deftly guided him on.
As was usual at such affairs, the night wore on, the conversation undimmed. They continued circulating; Caro caught more than one intrigued look, more than one interested glance. Gradually, she realized that the reality of the connection between her and Michael must show; Therese Osbaldestone was clearly not the only one to have seen past their facade.
Therese’s words, ringing with undeniable wisdom, replayed in her mind…slowly sank deeper to wind about her heart. As she stood beside Michael and effortlessly played her role, some part of her studied the prospect, detached, impassively—almost unemotionally—assessing.
It was the life, the position, the purpose she wanted, indeed needed. At functions like these, the truth shone clearly; this was where she belonged.
She glanced at Michael, at his strong profile as he spoke with others. Wondered if he knew, if he’d seen that reality, too.
In a way, it was about power—feminine power; she’d had it once in her life, and had grown accustomed to wielding it, to gaining satisfaction from all it could achieve. That was what Camden had taught her, his greatest and most enduring legacy to her. To be involved in the political and diplomatic game was now essential to her continuing happiness, her fulfillment. Therese Osbaldestone had been right.