Julie Garwood (14 page)

Caroline’s eyes widened. Tonight was full of surprises. First Bradford calmly recited her history, and now his friend indicated that he also knew of her. Was she a stranger to anyone?

“I have heard several comments concerning Bradford,” Caroline said. “Why is it such an event for him to smile?”

Milford shrugged. “There hasn’t been much to make him smile.” His answer was too general to satisfy Caroline’s curiosity.

“I think that you are a nice man,” Caroline stated.

“He is nice but I’m not?” Bradford’s voice came from behind Caroline and she turned, both startled and pleased.

“Exactly,” Caroline answered. “You could take a few lessons from your friend.”

Bradford scowled and Milford, observing the two, realized that Caroline wasn’t the least put off by his friend.

Caroline remembered telling Bradford that she wished to marry someone considerate and that he didn’t qualify. She recognized his irritation and smiled over it.

Dinner was announced and Caroline was sorry for it, as she would have liked to continue baiting her frowning adversary. Both Bradford and Milford offered her their arms but Caroline declined their invitations, stating that she must join her father and her uncle at their table. She glanced around and spotted her father surrounded by a large number of young men. Bradford followed her look and frowned even more.

“They think to gain your attention through your father,” Bradford announced. He sounded disgusted, and Caroline turned back to look at him.

“You plan to stay at Caroline’s side the rest of the evening?” Milford asked, grinning.

“No,” Bradford answered. He knew his friend jested but his irritation continued. “I will, however, have a short discussion with some of the more eager gentlemen before the evening is over.”

Milford chuckled, bowed to Caroline, and took his leave. Bradford took hold of Caroline’s arm, in what could only be interpreted as a sign of possession, and slowly led her toward the dining area.

“Isn’t that the Earl of Stanton talking with Charity?” Caroline asked. She remembered the young man when he was introduced to her at the beginning of the evening.

“No,” Bradford replied. “He is Earl of Stanton.”

Caroline looked up at Bradford to see if he was teasing her, but his expression was guarded and she couldn’t read his thoughts. “Haven’t I just said that he was?” she asked.

Bradford realized that Caroline hadn’t understood his comment and smiled. It was a tender smile and Caroline wondered over it. “There is a distinction when using ’the,’” he explained. “If I tell you that he is the Earl of Stanton, then you know that he is the highest titled in his family. However, if I say that he is Earl of Stanton, then you know that there is another in his line with a higher title.”

“Thank you for instructing me,” Caroline said. Her voice was filled with appreciation. “You’re called the Duke of Bradford and so I am to conclude that you are the highest titled in your family?”

“Yes,” Bradford admitted. “But I’m also Earl of Whelburne, the Earl of Canton, Marquis of Summertonham, and Viscount Benton.”

Bradford smiled over Caroline’s astonished reaction to his titles. “And are you a knight also?” she asked, shaking her head.

“Not yet,” he answered. “The honor of becoming a knight must be bestowed by the king and isn’t inherited.”

“I understand,” Caroline said. “I realize that you must think my education is sadly lacking. But I’ve lived in Boston, where titles are not significant. Besides that fact, my Uncle Henry didn’t believe that I would ever return to England. And he didn’t hold much store in titles either. He believed that a man was only as good as what he had accomplished, not what his fathers had done before him. For that reason, I wasn’t schooled properly I suppose,” Caroline said with a sigh. “Uncle and I just didn’t think it necessary or important.”

The Earl of Braxton joined them and Bradford was forced to take his leave. “We will continue with our discussion tomorrow,” he stated before parting. He
reluctantly let go of her arm, missing the feel of her immediately. “When I call on you. Your father has given me permission.”

During dinner, Caroline was seated beside her uncle and across from her father. When the two men began to share remembrances about Caroline’s mother, the woman they had both loved, she knew that all was once again right between them. Bradford escorted Charity to their table and once again departed. His expression when he bid her good night was properly schooled, yet Caroline read amusement in his eyes. She wondered what he found so humorous and soon had her answer.

“It was the most embarrassing thing!” Charity whispered to Caroline when she was seated. “I thought I was talking to our host but he must have moved away and I was busy watching everyone and when Bradford came up to me, I do believe he thought I was in deep discussion with a potted plant.”

Caroline almost choked on her champagne. She tried desperately not to laugh, knowing that Charity’s feelings would be hurt. Her cousin looked quite mortified.

“What did he say?” Caroline asked.

“Not a word,” Charity whispered back. “He just took hold of my elbow and led me to you. He’s a gentleman,” she ended with a sigh.

Caroline nodded. She turned to her father and asked for Charity’s spectacles. And then she handed them to her cousin with a look that suggested she put them on.

“Have you heard all the comments about your Bradford?” Charity asked in another whisper. She didn’t wish to disturb the conversation under way between Caroline’s father and uncle.

“He isn’t
my
Bradford,” Caroline protested, and then couldn’t help but ask, “What comments?”

“The man never attends anything. Everyone is amazed tonight. He really seems to be enjoying himself too. Our host is quite pleased. Caroline! Did you know that your father hasn’t been out in public in years?
Everyone believes that you are the cause of both miracles.”

Caroline remembered what Milford had said to her, that he owed her a debt for teaching his friend how to smile.

“He had only forgotten how,” Caroline whispered.

Caroline glanced up and saw Bradford standing in the center of a group of very pretty ladies. They were all giggling coyly and it bothered her the way the silly females were fawning all over him. She couldn’t understand why she felt irritated and tried to tell herself that she should be relieved. What was the matter with her?

She didn’t have more time to dwell on her feelings and was thankful for it. The next hour was spent meeting friends and acquaintances of her father and her uncle. Some were titled and others were not. Caroline said as little as possible to each new arrival, worried that she would incorrectly address someone of importance and show her ignorance.

Caroline felt very much like the isolated farmgirl she was, and totally out of place as she curtsied again and again to the uppercrust of England’s society.

She was introduced to Lady Tillman, an old friend of her father’s, and learned from a whispered comment made by her uncle that at one time the woman had set her sights on her father.

Lady Tillman turned out to be much like the other ladies attending the ball, only an older, rounder version. She must have practiced her expressions before a mirror, Caroline decided, by the way she carefully, ever so slowly, showed delight, interest, and pleasure. Caroline thought her boring and artificial and was disappointed by her contrived charm. Disappointed because her father seemed truly enchanted with the woman.

Caroline decided that Lady Tillman bore watching. Guilt nagged her when she thought how lonely her
father had been. For his sake, she did try to like the gray-haired, brown-eyed woman, but found after a short time that she couldn’t, especially when the older lady dissolved into controlled giggles over a remark that wasn’t remotely humorous.

Lady Tillman’s daughter was a younger version of her mother, in looks and expressions. She seemed to be of a weak nature too.

Rachel Tillman was spoken for, Lady Tillman informed Caroline and Charity. She then sent the earl off to locate Rachel’s future husband, and as soon as he returned and introduced Nigel Crestwall, Caroline felt a new emotion for Rachel Tillman. She felt acutely sorry for her.

Nigel Crestwall had the eyes of a sly fox. He didn’t look at Caroline, he leered. She felt extremely uncomfortable in his presence and was thankful when Rachel whined him into dancing with her.

The marquis was beginning to look fatigued, and Caroline suggested that they return to the dining room for dessert. Once they were settled, Viscount Claymere begged, rather dramatically, to be allowed to join them, and then Terrence St. James requested an introduction and also sat down.

Caroline quickly tired of the competitive way both the viscount and the bold St. James fought for her attention. She happened to look up and saw Bradford standing across the room, watching her. A woman Caroline could only describe as stunning clung to his side and was looking up at him with adoration in her eyes.

Bradford held a glass of wine in his hand and tilted it as a greeting and perhaps a toast, Caroline thought. She nodded and was about to lift her glass to return the gesture when the viscount leaned forward and knocked the piece of crystal out of her hand. The linen tablecloth was saturated with champagne but Caroline ignored
it as she tried to calm the viscount. He was making quite a scene with his apologies and she had to grit her teeth and listen through it.

When he was finally quieted, she looked up again and saw that the accident had provided much entertainment for the Duke of Bradford. His grin reached from one ear to the other.

Caroline found herself smiling in return and then shook her head and returned to the conversation going on around her. St. James kept grabbing hold of her hand and she had to keep pulling it away.

The night finally drew to a close. Caroline hugged her uncle and promised, for the tenth time, to visit him the day after tomorrow for tea. She and Charity then said their farewells and expressed their pleasure over the evening to the Duke of Ashford.

“What did Bradford speak to you about?” Caroline asked when her father finished listening to Charity’s descriptions of her evening.

“He will call on you tomorrow,” her father announced. He sounded very satisfied. “Told him that he was the fifth to ask my permission,” he said with a chuckle. “He didn’t like that bit of news, I can tell you.”

“Bradford is pursuing Caroline,” Charity remarked.

“I believe that most of London’s male population is in pursuit,” the earl said. “But your cousin isn’t the only one to receive invitations. I’ve had a flood of requests for your attention, too, Charity.”

“You have?” Charity didn’t sound overly pleased with her uncle’s news.

“Yes, and we must go over all of them tomorrow. I imagine you will both receive flowers and messages, although it has been years since I’ve done any actual courting and the rituals might have changed a bit, I dare say. Hard to keep abreast of the latest doings, you understand.”

Charity’s alarmed expression increased the more her
uncle went on about the suitable men wanting her attention. Caroline caught her eye and shook her head, signaling her to keep her silence. She didn’t want her father’s pleasure to be diminished and would have a long talk with Charity as soon as they were alone.

Charity caught the message and nodded. Caroline tried to concentrate on her father’s conversation but Bradford’s face kept intruding. She suddenly pictured Clarence, her Boston suitor. And then Clarence and Bradford were standing side by side in her mind’s eye and Caroline heard herself groan. The comparison between the two men was laughable. Clarence was still a boy, Bradford a man. Clarence had always reminded Caroline of one of the new foals on the farm, awkward and terribly unsure of himself whenever he was around her. Bradford, on the other hand, reminded Caroline of her favorite stallion. Bradford was strong, vital! His stance indicated confidence and strength. She wondered if, like her stallion, he possessed endurance as well. That consideration gave her a moment’s pause. Would he endure in his desire to have her? It was a bizarre comparison and Caroline blamed her exhaustion for these ridiculous thoughts.

C
AROLINE HAD DECIDED THAT SHE WOULD DISCUSS
P
AUL
Bleachley with Charity in the morning, after her cousin had had a good night’s sleep.

She went into Charity’s bedroom to say good night and found her cousin propped up in bed, weeping into one of the plump goose-feather pillows she clutched to her breasts.

“You were right all along,” Charity told Caroline between sobs. “He wasn’t honorable at all. I’m having the most unkind thoughts, Caroline. I do wish you’d go with me to find him and shoot him for me.”

Caroline smiled and sat down on the side of Charity’s bed. “That is an unkind thought,” she agreed. “But I was the one mistaken about Bleachley, not you, Charity. From now on, I’ll listen to you whenever men are involved. Your instincts were correct.”

“Are you teasing me?” She mopped her eyes on the pillow casing and sat up a little straighter. “You know something, don’t you? Tell me!”

“Bleachley was injured in the explosion in Boston. Do you remember that night, Charity? When the harbor was in flames and we could see the orange glow from our bedroom window?”

“Yes, of course I remember. Oh, God, tell me what happened to him.” Charity’s agony made Caroline rush through the rest of her story.

“What shall I do?” Charity asked when Caroline had finished recounting the story. “Bradford told you that
he won’t even see his friends. My poor Paul! The pain he must be suffering.” She started weeping again, and Caroline felt completely helpless.

For several minutes Charity continued to cry, until her pillow was soaked. Caroline listened until her heart couldn’t take one more sob. She frantically tried to think of a plan, discarding one absurd idea after another. If only Charity wasn’t so loud when she cried!

And then it all came together. She smiled at her cousin and said, “If you have finished with your tears, I believe there is a way. It means that I’ll have to ask a favor of Bradford, but there’s no help for it.”