Chapter 5 #2
A voice called out in something of a whispering yell, stopping them in the middle of the entry hall. “Caro!”
She looked over her shoulder. “It’s Kitty. Do you mind if we greet her?”
“Not at all.”
“You look incredible,” Miss Fielding said, smiling broadly while she clutched Lord Bengard’s arm. Kitty wore a silk gown in pale yellow that revealed how slender she was, and large, gleaming diamonds around her neck.
“You are stunning,” Caroline returned.
James and Mrs. Whitby went on ahead, continuing to climb the stairs toward their box.
“Bengard,” Tristan said, bowing. They weren’t well acquainted, but he had heard enough stories about the man that it didn’t feel like a loss. “Have you met Miss Whitby?”
“I have not.” His voice was low, his height average. He bowed to her and she dipped in a slight curtsy. “Pleasure.”
“Lord Bengard has the grandest notion, Caro, but we ought to be finding our box. Shall I come by tomorrow and tell you of it?”
Caroline glanced at Tristan before nodding. “That would be lovely.”
“I will see you then.” Miss Fielding’s face split into a grin as she allowed the viscount to lead her away.
Tristan walked behind them at a more sedate pace, allowing space to grow between the couples until they had caught up with the rest of their party and found their box.
Mrs. Whitby and Caroline sat together in the front row of chairs, leaving Tristan to take the seat beside Caroline, and James to sit on the end.
He tapped his toe restlessly, wishing Miss Fielding had revealed what Lord Bengard’s grand notion had been.
Knowing the man’s reputation, he had a feeling it wasn’t respectable.
The curtain rose, signaling the beginning of the play. Caroline leaned toward him, her shoulder gently pressing into his. He dipped his head so she might whisper. “Is anything the matter?” she asked.
“No.”
After a moment, she tapped his knee subtly with hers. Tristan ceased bouncing it at once.
A moment later, she had to tap it again. She looked at him, one dark eyebrow raised. It was dim in the box, but lanterns on the front of the stage lit the room, and he could make out her face easily, the slope of her nose, the angle of her jaw. “What is it?” she whispered.
“Nothing important.”
Caroline clearly didn’t believe him.
He didn’t want to cause her unnecessary anxiety, though. She was clearly good friends with Miss Fielding.
Which, he supposed, might have been more of a reason to leave a hint about the man. He leaned toward her, and she bent her graceful neck to the side to give him her ear.
Tristan looked at the length of pale skin and had to swallow. “I have heard stories of Lord Bengard that would not paint him in a favorable light. If the scheme he concocted takes you both away from polite society, it might be wise to avoid it.”
Caroline frowned. “You know this personally?”
Tristan considered the question but was forced to answer honestly. “No. I’ve heard from others whom I trust implicitly, but never had firsthand experience.”
She nodded, sitting back in her seat.
“I’ve an idea,” he said, causing her to lean in again. “If we can contrive to attend the same event as Dennison, you could speak to him and plead your case.”
“He did not seem amenable to that last time.”
Tristan had wondered if she wouldn’t love that idea. It was just as well, because he’d considered a second option. “You could also lead him to believe you have moved on to another suitor.”
Her brow wrinkled adorably. “How would that help him to offer for me?”
Tristan couldn’t hide his amusement. “Jealousy, my dear.”
Caroline sucked in a quiet breath. She looked in his eyes, and he wondered if he had gone too far.
“That plan feels as though it might be too risky,” she whispered.
Looking at her now, it was clear she didn’t know the extent of her appeal.
He leaned closer, speaking near her ear.
“Gentlemen are not all the same, so I cannot promise he would react as I imagine, but there is a measure of added appeal when one knows they cannot have something. I believe learning he could no longer have you would cause him to feel regret, which would be the first step leading him to beg you to reconsider his suit.”
Caroline nodded so slightly, he wondered if he’d imagined it. A shiver shook her shoulders. “Very well. When you return from visiting your brother, name the event and we will put your plan into action. We will…make him jealous.”
The idea was far more enticing than it ought to be. “I daresay I shall enjoy my part excessively.”
Her eyes snapped to his.
James nudged him, pulling Tristan’s attention away from her. He straightened.
“I thought you only wanted women who adored horses,” James whispered.
“I am reasonable enough to admit I can marry a woman who does not share my every interest,” Tristan argued. “But your sister and I are only friends.”
James laughed quietly. “If you say so.”
It was the truth. She’d rather marry a toad than Tristan. Yet the way she leaned into him, her reaction while dancing with him, her half-lidded eyes when he whispered into her ear…he rather wondered if she liked toads more than she had led him to believe.