Dark Angel (43 page)

"Father will be down in a few minutes," Edward said. "He—"

"Sit down, Caroline, it's shockingly rude of us to leave you standing so long." Dolly waved Caroline toward her vacated place on the sofa and settled herself in a nearby chair. "Do you know Caroline's daughter is called Emily as well?" she said to Lady Cowper, almost without pausing for breath.

Lady Cowper smiled. "I know she isn't named after me, but I'm flattered all the same. Is it a family name?"

"No, but it's a name I've always liked." Caroline pushed aside memories of the day she had chosen it. She had wanted a name that had no link to either Jared or Adam. Now she found herself wondering what name Adam would have chosen if he had been given a say in the matter.

"I have a daughter named Emily as well," Lady Cowper said, "though we always call her Minny." For some reason she glanced toward Palmerston as she said this last. Her eyes were lit with mischief and she looked closer to eighteen than twenty-six. Palmerston smiled back, but said nothing.

"How is Emily?" Sherry asked, moving closer to the sofa. "Jack and Andy said I was to tell you to give her their love."

Caroline answered questions about Emily from Sherry and Lady Cowper, relieved that they provided a buffer against Talbot. He had made no further attempt to approach her, but she was constantly aware of him. Yet however comforting it might be to seek refuge in small talk, she knew she could not let tonight's opportunity go to waste. All of the men present were part of the web in which she and Adam were ensnared. She would be a fool if she did not make use of the situation. Talbot would not reveal anything, and she could not talk to Palmerston about Adam with Talbot in the room. There would be plenty of other opportunities to talk to Sherry. But tonight might be her only chance to draw Edward out.

Caroline was trying to think how she might manage a private conversation with Dolly's husband when the footman opened the double doors and announced Mrs. and Miss Kingston. Mrs. Kingston, a widow who was Dolly's maternal aunt, looked precisely as Caroline remembered her. Her elaborately arranged dark brown hair showed no trace of gray, her dress was as fashionable as Dolly's, and her tongue very nearly as lively. Her daughter Lydia had been an awkward girl of fifteen when Caroline last saw her. In the intervening years the coltish adolescent had turned into a self-assured young woman. Looking at Lydia, with her carefully dressed hair and slightly arch manner, Caroline was reminded of herself at twenty. She saw Lydia smile flirtatiously at Talbot and prayed the girl was only practicing.

"Where's your father got to?" Mrs. Kingston demanded, taping Edward on the arm with a carved ivory fan. "Granby may not be the liveliest man imaginable but I've never known him to avoid a party before."

"He'll be down in a minute, Aunt Henrietta," Dolly said before her husband could respond. "Do tell me where you got that cap. It's simply enchanting."

Mrs. Kingston was quickly diverted, but Caroline received the distinct impression that Dolly did not want to talk about her father-in-law. She understood why a few minutes later when Granby at last joined them accompanied by a second man, very like him in appearance save that his features were coarser, his shoulders broader, his hair less white. Caroline's composure was shattered. It was Lord Anandale, Jared's father.

"Oh, good," Dolly said, "I was wondering when you'd join us. Uncle Hugo has paid us an unexpected visit," she explained, smiling brightly at the company but not looking at Caroline directly. "It's put my table sadly out, but I'm sure no one minds, it's just family. You know everyone, don't you, Uncle Hugo?"

Anandale nodded, looking at Caroline. Caroline was shocked at how much he had aged in the past five years. He had been a vigorous man when she last saw him, with a bellowing voice to match his temper. Now he seemed to have sunk inward. His face was composed but his eyes were filled with grief and a desperate yearning which nearly cut through her anger. Nearly. The memory of Jared's pain brought back the uncompromising chill of fury.

"I'm sorry, my dear." Caroline turned to find Granby standing beside her, a look of concern on his face. "Hugo arrived unexpectedly this morning," he murmured, under cover of the buzz of conversation around them. "I hope it will not make you too uncomfortable."

Caroline smiled gratefully at him. "Of course not," she said. The words were a lie and Granby's eyes told her he knew it.

"You're a brave woman, Caroline," Granby said, touching her shoulder lightly. "Thank you."

Granby's understanding helped Caroline regain her composure, which was just as well, for as soon as Granby moved off, Anandale approached the sofa, leaning heavily on his walking stick, which he seemed to need more than he had five years ago. Caroline waited for him to speak. She was not going to make this easy for him. Lady Cowper, as if understanding her need for privacy, turned to speak to Palmerston, while Sherry began a lively conversation with Dolly.

Anandale cleared his throat. "It's been a long time, my dear. Too long." He did not offer his hand. Caroline realized it was from fear she might reject it. He hesitated. "Thank you for your letter."

Caroline looked steadily at him. "I thought you deserved to know the full story."

"I came up to London as soon as I learned you were in town. My wife didn't feel equal to the journey." He paused again. "We'd heard he'd been wounded, but—"

Anandale broke off and swallowed. It was too much for Caroline. She put her hand out, but before she could speak the doors opened again and the butler stepped into the room to announce dinner.

There was a rustle of fabric as the company rose. The chance to speak with Anandale was gone. Sherry escorted Caroline down to the dining room, where she found herself seated next to him with Edward on her other side. Anandale was some distance down the table beside Dolly. Caroline was not sure whether she was glad or sorry.

The dinner made their meal on the
Sea Horse
look paltry indeed. Wall sconces illumined a series of Holbein sketches, some of Rawley ancestors, which hung on the green silk damask walls. Silver plate clicked discreetly against gilt-edged dishes emblazoned with the Rawley crest. Asparagus soup, boiled turbot with lobster sauce, roast turkey with truffles, and innumerable other dishes that Caroline could not count let alone eat were served by silent, attentive footmen. Engraved crystal glasses were kept constantly filled with claret. Caroline found it difficult to reaccustom herself to eating with someone constantly hovering at her back.

She would not dine this way in the future. The Rawley family solicitor had called on her the previous day and in polite, elaborate language had confirmed her worst fears. The money that had been set aside for her in the marriage settlement had been lost in the foundry. Jared had left nothing. In fact, Anandale had had to cover some of his debts and Edward had forgone most of what Jared owed him. Caroline and Emily would have to live on Jared's pension and the little she had left in the bank in Lisbon. Though it was what she had expected, it had still been an unpleasant blow.

Caroline looked up suddenly, aware of a prickling sensation down her spine. She found Talbot watching her across the table with an expression of sardonic amusement. Her fingers tightened round the stem of her wine glass. In that moment she was convinced he knew. He knew she had guessed he was behind the attacks and he was enjoying her discomfiture. Why had she never noticed how cold his eyes were or how little warmth lay behind his smile?

"Is something wrong?" Sherry asked with concern.

"No," Caroline said, drawing a steadying breath. "Just overawed by so much grandeur."

Sherry smiled. "It's your family, not mine."

"It's Jared's family," Caroline said, determined to distance herself from the Rawleys. Talbot was no longer looking at her. She forced her thoughts in another direction. She should focus on something practical, like talking to Edward, but Sherry kept her occupied through most of the meal. There was no chance to exchange more than a few words with Edward before Dolly rose and led the ladies back upstairs to the salon. Fortunately, the gentlemen joined them before too long. When the company rearranged themselves to make room for the new arrivals, Caroline managed to seat herself beside Edward.

He greeted her with a smile. "I was hoping we'd have a chance to talk." He glanced about the room, his eyes focusing on Anandale, who had been waylaid by Mrs. Kingston. "I thought you should be warned of Uncle Hugo's arrival, but Dolly seemed to think it would be better left a surprise. I've always made it a practice to defer to her in these matters, but I hope—I hope it hasn't been too difficult for you."

"No more difficult than if I'd be warned," Caroline said.

Edward looked at Anandale again, his brows drawing together. "Uncle Hugo's taken this very hard. So have we all. I would to God I'd mended matters with Jared before he died."

The heartfelt grief in his voice took Caroline by surprise. Edward must have read her expression. "He was my cousin, Caroline," he said quietly.

"I'm sorry," Caroline said, abashed because she had been thinking of the fraud and not of the human tragedy.

Edward gave a rueful smile. "It's a bit late for apologies all round. There's no denying I was furious with Jared at the time. But I can't help thinking perhaps I was at fault as well. I should have taken more of an interest in that wretched company. I was busy and Jared had a knack for figures. It was easy to leave it in his hands. But I knew his weaknesses. If I'd been less preoccupied with my own affairs—"

He broke off and gave a helpless shrug. Caroline studied his face. He was not as handsome as Talbot and he made his way on hard-working determination rather than charm. He was a kind man, but there was a certain aloofness about him. In the past few minutes he had displayed more emotion than in all the years she had known him.

"Perhaps I should have taken more of an interest as well," she said, wondering if it was possible Edward knew why Talbot had become her enemy. "I always left it up to Jared to manage the money."

"You had your own concerns." Edward seemed surprised by her words. He and Dolly, Caroline knew, had their own spheres and did not interfere with one another.

"A wife should know when her husband is in trouble." Caroline leaned back in her chair, a heavily gilded armchair of carved wood upholstered in the. same velvet which covered the walls. It was part of a suite of furniture designed when the house was built and time had done nothing to make it more comfortable. "I always thought it was an odd sort of venture," she said. "Aren't most foundries run by the founder himself?"

"I believe so," Edward said. "But this founder couldn't afford to operate on his own."

"With war on the Peninsula looking inevitable, it seemed a sensible investment." Caroline smoothed a crease from one of her gloves. "But the founder can't have been very reliable or he would have protested Jared's orders. Did you ever meet him?"

"Once, when the partnership was first formed. He seemed to know what he was about. Talbot knew him better than any of us." Edward shifted his position in his chair. "Why in God's name it didn't occur to me that Talbot and Jared between them were bound to get into trouble—"

Caroline's heartbeat quickened. "But Talbot had nothing to do with the bribe," she said, watching Edward closely.

"No, thank heaven," Edward said with feeling. "I must confess that when I first heard of it I feared—but we were spared that at least."

The relief in his voice was patent. If Edward really had feared Talbot was involved and now thought he wasn't, Edward could not have been part of what happened five years ago. And he could not know what Talbot was doing now. His words could have been designed to deceive her, of course, but they had the ring of truth. Caroline did not think Edward had Talbot’s talent for dissembling.

"I'm sorry," Edward said laying a hand on her arm. "I didn't mean to talk of such depressing things. You should be thinking of the future, not the past. Dolly says your daughter is charming. Bella and Ned enjoyed meeting her."

Caroline smiled at him, greatly relieved. She had not liked suspecting Dolly's husband. They talked of their children until Caroline heard the thud of a walking stick on the thick carpet and glanced up to find Anandale coming toward her.

Anandale looked at Caroline for a moment, then turned to Edward. "Forgive me, my boy, but could I have a word alone with my daughter-in-law?"

Edward glanced at Caroline, a question in his eyes.

Caroline nodded her assent. Five years of anger with Anandale warred with that brief moment of compassion before diner, but she knew she at least owed him the courtesy of hearing him out.

Anandale eased himself into Edward's vacated chair but did not speak for a time. "Your mother's well," he said at last. "And your brother and his family. We dined there last week."

"I'm glad to hear it," Caroline said. And then, feeling a qualm of conscience because she had not done so earlier, she asked after Anandale's wife, whose health was delicate, and after their elder son and his family.

Anandale answered as though his thoughts were elsewhere. Silence stretched between them again.

"I didn't approve of your marriage at the beginning," Anadale said abruptly, clasping his hands over his walking stick and looking at it rather than at Caroline. "You know that as well as I do. Jared was young and—"

"And I had virtually no dowry."

Anandale met her gaze. "No sense in pretending otherwise." For a moment he looked again like the plain-speaking man she remembered. "But I was wrong. Jared couldn't have had a more loyal wife. I'm glad you were with him at the end."

Caroline's throat tightened. "He didn't deserve to die alone." He also deserved to have had someone with him who loved him more than his wife had done, but she was beyond blaming either Jared or herself for the farce their marriage had become.

"I don't suppose it's any good asking you to forgive me when I'll never be able to forgive myself," Anandale continued, staring at the walking stick again. "But I hope you will at least accept what is due to you as my son's widow. As the mother of his child." There was a catch in Anandale's voice. He looked at Caroline. "You said nothing about the child in your letter. How is she? Is she well?"