Julie Garwood (20 page)

Benjamin thrived under the pressure of preparing a suitable meal and had the pigeons stuffed, the fish boned, and the chickens turning on the open spit well before noon. Deighton became terribly dictatorial as he commanded the other last-minute arrangements. Caroline
and Charity both did whatever Deighton suggested, since he knew what was more correct than either of them, and Charity even asked his advice about which gown he thought she should wear.

Caroline had already decided to wear the daring ivory gown. It was terribly low cut and, she hoped, extremely seductive. She planned to look the part of a temptress, thinking it high time to gain the upper hand in her relationship with Bradford. If he was going to keep her off balance, then she would return the favor.

She dressed with care, growing more nervous by the minute. She vowed that it would be a perfect evening. Her plan was quite simple. She was going to make Bradford delirious with desire, drive him to the brink, and force him into telling her what was in his heart.

Charity found Caroline standing before her mirror and gasped when she got a full look at her cousin. “Bradford will be quite speechless when he sees you,” Charity predicted. “You look like Venus, the goddess of love,” she whispered.

“And you look just as lovely,” Caroline returned with a smile.

Charity whirled around, showing off the lemon-colored gown she wore. “I feel wonderful, Caroline. Love does that, you know. Makes one quite perky.”

Caroline didn’t agree but held her silence. Right this minute, love was making her miserable. She tugged on the bodice of her gown, trying to bring it up just a bit, until Charity remarked that she was going to tear the thing and have to change.

Caroline sighed and accompanied her cousin downstairs and waited in the entry hall to greet the first guests.

“Paul and I have decided to be married in England,” she told Caroline.

“Well, of course you are,” Caroline returned. “Where else would you be married?”

“In Boston,” Charity answered with a frown. “But we don’t want to wait, and it wouldn’t do traveling together unless we are man and wife.”

Caroline’s eyes widened in confusion. “But you will live here, Charity. This is Paul’s home. You mean only to visit the family, don’t you?”

Charity was busy watching Deighton pace back and forth in front of the door and missed the expression on Caroline’s face. “Paul wants to begin anew. He isn’t titled so he won’t be giving up anything of importance. But he isn’t poor either and has grand plans. Papa will help him get established,” Charity ended.

“Yes, of course,” Caroline commented. “What will he do?” She tried to sound interested but suddenly felt overwhelming sadness. She didn’t think she was ready to lose Charity. Her cousin was her only link with her family in Boston.

“He has already had long talks with Benjamin,” Charity said in answer. “Paul wants to buy some land and become a gentleman farmer. Benjamin has agreed to help him.”

“Gentleman farmer? Charity, there is no such thing,” Caroline scoffed with irritation. “Not in the Colonies. It takes hard work and that’s the truth of it. Farming is backbreaking work, every day of the week.”

“Paul’s up to it,” Charity replied. “He is slowly regaining the use of his injured hand, and you know that my brothers will also show him the way.”

“Yes,” Caroline said with a sigh. She was still dwelling on Charity’s comment that Benjamin would help. She had no right to think that he would remain in England with her. Why then did she feel she was being abandoned?

The bell sounded, indicating that the first guests had arrived, and Caroline forced a smile on her face. Deighton paused at the door, turned, and gave both Charity and Caroline a last look of scrutiny. He nodded
his approval, schooled his expression into his bored look, and turned back to open the door. The evening had begun.

Bradford was one of the last to arrive. Caroline muttered her displeasure over his tardiness as soon as she greeted him, and then realized that it wasn’t a very good start to her perfect evening. But then, his reaction to her dress wasn’t very positive either. Instead of telling her how lovely she looked, he suggested in a harsh whisper that she go back upstairs and finish dressing.

“I am dressed,” Caroline argued.

They were standing at the edge of the foyer. Milford had joined them and he, too, turned to hear Bradford’s reply. “She looks just fine to me, Brad,” Milford announced, staring at Caroline with appreciation.

“The gown is lacking a top,” Bradford stated. “Go up and change into something more suitable.”

“I will not,” Caroline replied emphatically.

“You aren’t decent,” Bradford growled. Milford started chuckling, and both Caroline and Bradford turned and glared him into silence.

Then Caroline turned back to confront Bradford. “I am as decent as you are in those breeches.”

“What’s wrong with my breeches?” Bradford demanded. He was caught off guard by her absurd remark.

“They are entirely too tight. It’s a wonder you can sit down without injuring yourself,” Caroline answered. She slowly looked him up and down, secretly admiring the way he looked. Lord but he was handsome! And terribly distinguished looking too, in his formal evening black, Caroline considered.

Milford started laughing again. “May I escort you into dinner?” he asked Caroline as he offered his arm.

“I would be delighted,” Caroline answered. She placed her hand on Milford’s arm and gave Bradford a
chilling look. “When you remember your manners, you may join us.”

Bradford stood there, baffled by their conversation. How had she put him on the defensive so quickly, so effortlessly? he asked himself. And didn’t she have any idea of the temptation she caused by her dress? He doubted that there was a man there who wasn’t as affected as he.

Caroline ignored Bradford all through dinner. She sat on Paul Bleachley’s left and conversed with him and with Milford, who was seated across from her. Bradford had taken the chair on Caroline’s right. She didn’t even glance his way.

Bradford didn’t like being ignored. He barely touched his food, although the comments concerning the dishes were quite favorable. He noticed with some satisfaction that Caroline wasn’t eating much either.

He fought the urge to take off his jacket and put it over Caroline’s shoulders and promised himself that he would beat Nigel Crestwall to a bloody pulp if he continued to leer at Caroline.

Bradford decided, halfway through dessert, that he had been patient long enough. He had thought, in the beginning, to proceed slowly, to give her time to accept him, to come to terms with the fact that she would belong to him. Now he admitted that he lacked the patience to continue. It was time to have a little talk with Caroline, and the sooner the better.

Caroline tried to concentrate on Milford’s remarks about the opera they were all going to directly after dinner, but her attention kept turning to Loretta Kendall, Franklin’s wife. The auburn-haired woman was making a spectacle of herself in her admiration of Bradford, and Caroline thought that if she didn’t quit her flirting very soon, she would do something positively horrid. She considered dumping one of the raspberry tarts down the woman’s dress. Heaven only knew the
gown was low enough to accommodate a fair number of tarts.

Dinner was finally over and the ladies stood to take their leave. The men would stay to share a drink together, but Bradford broke with tradition. He wasn’t in the mood to socialize with anyone but Caroline. He followed her out the door, grabbed hold of her elbow, and requested a word with her. He was acting very formal because Lady Tillman and Loretta Kendall were watching him.

Caroline gave a curt nod and said, “If it is important,” for the benefit of the ladies listening. She led the way to her father’s study on the first floor, silently fuming at the way Loretta was goggling Bradford.

“Please leave the door open,” Caroline requested in a haughty voice.

“What we have to discuss shouldn’t be overheard,” Bradford announced. His voice sounded grim. He slammed the door, leaned against it, and stared at Caroline. “Come here.”

Caroline frowned over the harsh demand. Why, he was actually commanding her! Was she no better than a serving girl in his eyes? Obviously not! Caroline held her temper, thinking that she had just about reached her limit of endurance.

And she had hoped for a perfect evening. Perfectly horrid was a far better description, and it wasn’t even half done. She still had the opera to get through. Bradford would be to blame if she lost control of her temper. First the arrogant man arrived over an hour late, next criticized her beautiful gown, then flirted outrageously with a married woman, and now had the audacity to demand her obedience.

In answer to his command, Caroline leaned against the edge of her father’s desk, folded her arms in front of her, and said, “I’d rather not, thank you.”

Bradford took a deep breath. He smiled, but it didn’t
soften his gaze at all. “Caroline, love. Do you remember telling me that I didn’t know when I was being insulted?”

Caroline nodded. She was caught off balance by the question and the mildness in his tone. “I do remember,” she replied with a smile.

“I now suggest that you don’t know when you should be afraid.”

Caroline quit smiling. Her eyes widened with actual alarm when Bradford began to walk toward her. “I’m not afraid,” she lied.

“Oh, but you should be,” Bradford stated in a whisper.

She didn’t stand a chance. Before she could even decide which direction to run, Bradford had her by the waist and was pulling her toward him. He never took his eyes off her. When she was plastered up against his chest, her face tilted up to him, he said, “You have flaunted your charms, allowed every man in the house an ample view of your body, ignored me, and now try to bluster your way out of obeying me. Yes, my love, I believe this is one of those times when you should be afraid.”

He was furious. The telltale muscle in the side of his cheek was twitching, a sure indication that he was having extreme difficulty keeping his temper in check.

Caroline was astonished by his remarks. She couldn’t believe how he was trying to turn the tables on her when he was the one who had behaved so dastardly.

“I haven’t flaunted my charms,” Caroline began. “Loretta’s gown is far more … flaunting than mine. And you are the one who has flirted, Bradford, not me. Don’t you dare glare at me like that. You flirted with a married woman, or did you forget that she was married?”

She didn’t wait for his answer but continued, “I did ignore you, but only after you insulted my dress. That
was probably very childish of me but I wanted this evening to be perfect and I overreacted to your horrid comments.”

“Why?” Bradford’s expression was guarded and Caroline couldn’t tell how he was reacting to her argument. “Why did you hope for a perfect evening?”

Caroline turned her gaze to stare intently at his cravat. “I had hoped that you … that is, I did believe …” Caroline sighed. She couldn’t continue.

Bradford found himself sidetracked by the distress in her voice. He lessened his grip and began to gently caress her back. “We will stand here all night if necessary,” Bradford said, “until you tell me what’s going on inside your head.”

Caroline knew he meant what he said. She nodded with acceptance and then said, “I had hoped that you would say something … nice to me! There, I have told you the truth and I’ll thank you not to laugh. I wanted to hear you say something other than you want me. Is that asking too much, Bradford?”

Bradford shook his head. He forced her to look back up at him, using his hand below her chin to get his way. “Nice words aren’t what I had in mind right now. I believe I would much rather throttle you. You have run me in circles these past months. Worse,” he added with a look that made Caroline tremble in trepidation, “I have allowed it.” He paused, determined to lower his voice. “The chaos is over, Caroline, and so is the game. My patience has ended.”

“Have you been patient because you waited for me to admit that I want you?” She whispered her question, a purposeful setdown to his bellow. Caroline’s expression showed her distress. “I do want you. There, does my admission please you? Before you gloat over it, Bradford, understand that in my heart, it isn’t enough. I also happen to love you. It is therefore, in my mind, acceptable to want you
because
I love you.”

Bradford’s irritation vanished with her declaration. He found himself grinning, felt a sense of satisfaction that almost overwhelmed him. He was content. He leaned down and tried to kiss Caroline, but she evaded him with a curt shake of her head.

“Don’t look so smug, Bradford. I didn’t want to fall in love with you. You aren’t a very nice man to love. Why I couldn’t have chosen someone like Paul Bleachley is beyond me. I believe you have grown on me,” Caroline continued, “but then, so do warts, so that doesn’t explain anything very satisfactorily, does it?” She sighed again, with acceptance this time. “And now you are going to kiss me until I am senseless, aren’t you?”

Bradford smiled and placed a chaste kiss on the top of Caroline’s head. He inhaled her sweet fragrance and felt intoxicated by it.

“I really wish that you wouldn’t, Bradford.”

“Did you actually believe that you could wear that gown and not be kissed?”

“I did.” It was a bare whisper made against Bradford’s mouth. And then he was kissing her and she was kissing him. His mouth was so warm, his tongue like silken heat as it penetrated and stroked hers. Caroline’s arms slipped around Bradford’s waist, just as his arms circled her, and allowed him to weave his magical web of passion.

The kiss finally ended and Bradford had to hold Caroline steady. She rested her cheek against his chest, waiting for him to tell her what was in his heart.

“Is it so painful loving me?” Bradford asked. She could hear the laughter in his voice and bristled over it.

“Just like a stomachache,” Caroline told him. “I went along for the longest time disliking you so and I grew quite comfortable with that feeling, and then suddenly there it was.”