Improper Ladies (14 page)
Authors: Amanda McCabe
These ruminations were cut short by the sound of Harry Seward calling, “Hallo! Mrs. Aldritch, Miss Lane, you are here already.”
Caroline turned to see Harry, Justin, Lady Lyndon, and Sarah Bellweather coming toward them, all of them outfitted for a sea jaunt. Harry carried a large hamper, trying to balance it and wave at the same time.
Phoebe rushed over to greet them, and Caroline followed at a slower pace. Her gaze met Justin’s, and he gave her a small smile.
Her breath caught at that small, secret curve of his lips, and she smiled at him in return. She could not seem to help herself.
“The water looks calm today,” he said.
Caroline glanced doubtfully at the still-lapping waves. “Do you think so?”
Justin laughed. “Not much of a sailor, eh, Mrs. Aldritch?”
“I’m not sure. I have not had much opportunity for sailing.”
“Well, I shall help you, then,” he said, a teasing twinkle in his blue eyes. “I often went out on the river in India. I won’t let you fall overboard.”
Was he
flirting
with her? Caroline looked at him, at his half smile. It had been so long since she had indulged in harmless, lighthearted flirtation that she could scarce remember how it was done.
flirting
with her? Caroline looked at him, at his half smile. It had been so long since she had indulged in harmless, lighthearted flirtation that she could scarce remember how it was done.
Finally, she smiled, took his proffered arm, and let him help her climb aboard the waiting yacht. They sat down on a bench near the railing and watched as Phoebe, Harry, and Sarah scrambled onto the deck, laughing and chattering boisterously. Phoebe rushed over to climb up on a coiled pile of rope, pointing and exclaiming over something in the water below.
Harry looked at her with a rapt expression on his face.
Lady Lyndon sat down beside Caroline and Justin on the bench, settling her mulberry-colored skirts about her. “Oh, my dears,” she sighed, “I feel so very old just watching them. Was I ever so enthusiastic?”
Caroline nodded in agreement. Once she would have dashed about just like Phoebe, bursting with the joy, the glee, the possibility of life. But years and experience had killed that feeling, had left her feeling numb. Like an old woman.
Now Justin’s arm brushed against hers as he leaned forward to retrieve something from the hamper. And the cold, hard knot at the core of her seemed to burst open, releasing that old joyful feeling again. She almost laughed aloud with the delightful surprise of it.
Then the boat began to move, and she was jolted against his arm. She clutched at his sleeve with her hand, catching the smooth wool in her fist.
Justin’s other arm came around to steady her, and she found herself in an almost embrace with him. Everything else, the people, the sea, the rocking of the boat, faded around her. She only saw him.
She looked up at his face, so near hers, and wondered dazedly if his lips were as soft as they looked.
Justin wished, as he had never wished for anything before in his life, that he was alone with Mrs. Aldritch.
He was acutely conscious of every move she made, every word she said. He waited eagerly for every time she would tilt up her head and he could see her face beneath the brim of her lavender silk-lined bonnet.
She laughed at something his mother said, her head at a slight angle that caused one pale strand of hair to brush against her cheek.
It made him want to laugh, as well, even though he had no idea what they were talking of.
Then he heard his mother’s words.
“... and there he was, running down the drive without a stitch on, while his nursemaid chased after him.”
Oh, dear Lord. Was she telling that old story about the time he was three years old and went dashing about in the altogether again?
She must be. Mrs. Aldritch was looking at him with mirth sparkling in her dark eyes, one lavender-gloved hand pressed over her mouth, holding in her laughter.
His mother continued. “And all the tenants were walking home from the farm at that hour. I would vow that every single one of them saw that tiny dimple just above—”
“Mother!” Justin interrupted desperately, “I am sure you must be boring Mrs. Aldritch with my childhood exploits. Not to mention how improper it is.”
Caroline took her hand away from her mouth and said, “I found it to be an extremely diverting story, Lord Lyndon. Extremely diverting, indeed.”
“And you are not one to be lecturing about propriety, Justin,” his mother added. “That is the
least
of the stories I could tell about you, my dear. Why, there was the time you and young Harry broke into the wine cellar....”
least
of the stories I could tell about you, my dear. Why, there was the time you and young Harry broke into the wine cellar....”
Justin had the unhappy feeling that this talebearing could go on for hours. He wanted Caroline Aldritch to like him, to be impressed by him. Not think he was some wild ’un who always ran about without his clothes as a child.
He stood up quickly and said, “I do believe you expressed an interest in seeing the, er, wheel, Mrs. Aldritch.” Is that what they called the steering mechanism of yachts? A wheel? Justin certainly hoped so. He couldn’t afford to look any more foolish.
She looked up at him quizzically, with a half smile that said she knew exactly what he was doing. “Did I? Yes. I would like to see the, er, wheel.”
With a last word for his mother, she rose and took his arm, allowing him to lead her along the deck. They went past the three young people, who were watching one of the sailors demonstrate knot making, and stopped in the relatively quiet stern.
Caroline leaned her arms on the rail and looked down at the water below. “You are not fooling me one bit, you know,” she said, laughter still lingering in her voice.
Justin also leaned on the rail, inches away from her. “Not fooling you about what?”
“I never asked to see any wheels. You merely did not want me to hear any more of your childhood exploits.”
“Guilty as charged,” he admitted blithely. “They cannot be very amusing to anyone but my mother.”
“Oh, no. I found them vastly amusing.”
“Then it is not fair. No one is here to tell tales of
your
childhood, Mrs. Aldritch.”
your
childhood, Mrs. Aldritch.”
“Indeed not. Phoebe is so much younger that she does not recall much. And a good thing it is, too. I had a dull country childhood.”
“Nothing about you could possibly be dull,” he said, without thinking.
She looked at him from beneath her bonnet, her expression unreadable. “On the contrary. I am very dull, I assure you.” Then she turned from him, leaning her back against the railing while she watched her sister.
Justin sensed her drawing away, pulling back inside herself. He wanted desperately to bring her back, to bring back the lightly teasing woman. But he did not know how.
So he said, “My mother told me she invited you to the concert with us on Saturday.”
“Yes. I hope that is quite all right?”
“Certainly. I look forward to it.”
“Phoebe is very excited. She has already changed her plans for her ensemble four times!”
“And you, Mrs. Aldritch? Are you excited about the concert?”
She turned back to look at him, but before she could reply a chilly wind swept across the deck, pushing back her bonnet. She clutched at the silk brim and looked about worriedly.
Justin only then noticed that the sky, so blue when they set out, had become overcast. He had been so engrossed in talking with Mrs. Aldritch that everything else had faded about him.
Now he saw the captain coming toward them, trailed by his mother, Harry, Miss Lane, and Miss Bellweather. “It looks as if we might be in for a bit of a shower, my lord,” he said. “Might be best if you all went below for a while.”
“Is it dangerous?” Mrs. Aldritch asked in a tight voice.
“Not at all, ma’am,” the captain answered. “We just wouldn’t want you to be getting damp.”
Justin offered her his arm again and said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone, “I am sure it is nothing at all, Mrs. Aldritch. Let us go down below, and we can have our luncheon.”
She nodded and smiled, but her grasp was hard on his arm.
Caroline did not like this one bit.
It was not a real storm, but the soft sound of rain falling on the deck underlay the merry chatter of the party. The boat rocked gently, causing wine and lemonade to slosh against the sides of glasses.
Her stomach wouldn’t allow her to partake of the picnic luncheon spread across a table, and she feared her smile at the others’ sallies was rather strained. She had no desire to ruin their fine time, so she was very glad when Phoebe suggested a diversion.
Even if that diversion was a game of cards.
Caroline watched warily as Harry dug a pack of cards from the bottom of the hamper and shuffled them deftly. Just the sight of the brightly colored pasteboards brought back unwelcome memories of the Golden Feather.
She steeled herself against those memories now and forced herself to smile as if she had not a care in the world.
You survived Lady Lyndon’s card party,
she told herself sternly.
You will survive this.
You survived Lady Lyndon’s card party,
she told herself sternly.
You will survive this.
But the card party had felt somewhat different. There had been so very many people about, all of them eminently respectable, and there had been no stakes. This was more intimate, just her, Lord Lyndon, Harry, Phoebe, and Sarah seated around a table, while Lady Lyndon watched.
She felt absurdly as if all eyes were on her, judging, waiting for her to slip.
Then she laughed inwardly at herself. No one was watching her at all! Indeed, Harry and Phoebe were so busy giggling at each other that
they
saw nothing else.
they
saw nothing else.
Caroline lightly touched the pile of cards, and said, “What shall we play, then? Whist?”
“Oh, no!” Phoebe cried. “That is far too stodgy for being among friends. Let us play Speculation.”
“Jolly good!” said Harry. “I shall be dealer.” He proceeded to pass out three cards to each player, then put the card to trump faceup in the center.
And, as Caroline looked down at the cards in her hand, the old coolness she had once known when she played dealer at the Golden Feather stole over her again. It was unbidden and unwelcome, but she knew only one thing—she wanted to win.
Justin watched in wonder as Mrs. Aldritch once again produced the highest trump and took the pot. He thought he had never seen a woman so intent on a friendly game of Speculation before, or so good at strategy and winning. She would stop at nothing to secure the trump card!
“Oh, Caro, you win again,” Phoebe said with a laugh. “How very unfair! I had no idea what a cardsharper you are.”
Caroline froze in the act of collecting her winnings, her hands suddenly still. She looked at her sister as if she had never seen her before.
“What did you say, Phoebe?” she said quietly.
“I said I had no idea what a cardsharper you are! Why, you have trounced us all. I vow I will never play a quiet game of piquet with you in the evening again.”
Phoebe’s tone was blithe, but Caroline looked oddly stricken. Justin watched, puzzled, as she pulled her hands back as if burned. She stood up suddenly, her face pale.
“What is the matter, Caro?” Phoebe asked, her bright smile turning to a worried frown. “Are you ill?”
“It is very warm in here,” said Justin’s mother. “Do you feel faint, my dear?”
Justin rose beside Caroline, reaching out a hand to steady her as she swayed a bit. “Let me pour you some wine, Mrs. Aldritch.”
She turned to him as if startled to see him there. “Oh, no, thank you. I-I think I just need some air. If you all will excuse me for a moment.”
“Shall I come with you?” Phoebe said, laying down her own cards on the table.
“Oh, no, Phoebe dear. Stay here and enjoy yourself.” Caroline gave a vague smile and turned to climb the stairs back to the deck.
Amelia came to Justin and whispered in his ear, “Perhaps you should go with her, Justin. She does not look well.”
He nodded and went to follow her up the stairs. She stood beneath the eaves of the cabin, watching the light rain that still fell. She rubbed at her arms, as if chilled beneath the thin muslin of her lavender-and-white gown, but she didn’t seem to notice her actions. Indeed, she didn’t seem to notice anything as she stared out at the deck.
Justin removed his coat and slid it over her shoulders.
She started a bit, as if surprised to see him. Then she gave him a regretful, grateful little smile and drew the warm wool of the coat closer about her.
“How foolish you must think me,” she murmured.
“Not at all,” he answered. “It was rather close in there.”
“I don’t know what came over me. I suddenly did not feel like myself.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, turning her face into the brisk breeze. Little droplets of water clung to her eyelashes and cheeks.
Justin wanted to brush them away, to touch the ivory of her cheek and see if it was as soft as it appeared. Instead, he took her arm through the layers of his coat and her gown and led her to one of the benches.
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