Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Following Caroline and Dennison around a high-walled maze had not been on Tristan’s list of things to accomplish at this garden party, but as she was holding Dennison’s arm, and he was speaking to her now about things unrelated to the maze, it would appear they were making good progress in their romantic goals.
Caroline was, at least. Tristan had not even thought of another woman since seeing her at the ball a few weeks ago. She took up all the space in his mind, despite how often he tried to push her out.
Well, he certainly could have tried harder. He needed a bride before his last three friends married. Time was not on his side.
Her laugh pulled him from his ruminations, his attention snapping to her. Weaseling his way into her time with Dennison had been an impulse of the moment and appeared to have been a mistake.
Unless he took action.
When they rounded the next bend, Tristan stepped closer to Caroline, putting himself in line with the pair. “Are we almost to the center, do you think?”
She looked up at him, uncertainty passing over her face briefly. “I’m not sure. I have not been paying attention.”
Tristan took the situation with both hands and proceeded. “Which means we could very well have been walking in circles. Perhaps I shall take the lead?”
Dennison’s brows snapped together.
Tristan didn’t leave him any time to quibble. He put out his arm toward Caroline and plastered a genial expression on his face. “Shall we find our way out?”
Her eyes shot fire in his direction, but he boldly stood his ground.
“I thank you for the offer—”
“Wonderful,” Tristan said, not allowing her to complete her dismissal. He lifted his arm again, forcing her into accepting it.
Once her hand was resting upon the crook of his elbow, he started down the pathway at a fast clip.
“What are you doing?” she hissed. “We were talking.”
“Surely one conversation is not enough to heal the betrayal he so deeply felt. Do not find yourself overconfident.”
Caroline looked up at him. “You would prefer I did not secure him immediately?”
Tristan’s stomach jolted at the thought. Gads, he was unprepared for the depth at which he so strongly disliked the idea. “No, I would not prefer that.”
She looked at him a moment longer, so he tore his gaze away.
Dennison trailed behind them, shuffling to keep up. “Should we slow a little?”
Tristan ignored him, lowering his voice. “I would prefer to be absolutely certain this is what you want before you allow your brother to sign any marriage contracts.”
“I know what I want, Tristan.”
“Do you?” he asked, curious. She spoke with such confidence. “What is that?”
“Marriage, children, security.”
“Reasonable things.” Tristan could understand her first two points, but the final one puzzled him. “Security?”
“Yes,” she said. “It is a strange notion where one can relax, knowing they don’t have to fear the workhouse.”
Tristan stopped as they came to a four-way intersection. Was that why she had gone out of her way to offer charity to her maid’s sister? “The workhouse?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Have you any notion which way we should turn, Mr. Dennison? Your sense of direction is excellent.”
Had that been the case, they would not have remained in the maze for as long as they had.
“Right, I think,” Dennison said.
He’d been correct. Within two more turns directed by the man, they discovered the exit of the maze, which led Tristan to believe Dennison had an extraordinary sense of direction, indeed.
Dennison must have been walking them in circles when it had been his turn to escort Caroline.
Once the task had been taken over by Tristan, they were shortly free of the puzzle.
He would have been more annoyed, but he felt it well-played. If Dennison viewed him as a rival, that meant Tristan was doing his job well.
“Are you thirsty, Miss Whitby?” Dennison asked.
“Yes. I would love a glass of lemonade.”
Dennison bowed. “Allow me to fetch it at once.”
Caroline watched him stride away. “It would seem you have done your job too well, Tristan.”
Her voice had a strange quality to it. She did not seem as excited about this prospect as he imagined she should be.
“You could very likely have a proposal by the end of the evening,” he agreed. “And I don’t mean one put to you by a toad.”
Her blue eyes snapped to him. “I should thank you, I suppose.”
“Not until the task is complete, my dear.” He did not wish to receive her gratitude for something he did not fully support. There was a strange unpleasantness in his stomach, but he couldn’t credit why.
Caroline’s face brightened. “We must turn our attention to finding you a bride, you know. It will take all my effort to find a woman who can withstand your teasing.”
Yes. Because Tristan still needed to marry, even if it was not to the woman he would have liked to make his companion.
Just a few weeks ago, he’d all but forgotten about Caroline Whitby.
How the devil had she weaseled her way into his mind so fully in so short a time?
He did not recall being so taken with her when they were younger.
Though, she had been younger than him, a girl who followed them around on occasion and not this beautiful woman. He’d teased her, but he hadn’t looked at her like a prospect.
Dennison returned with two glasses of lemonade and offered one of them to Caroline. He gave a look of triumph to Tristan, who knew it was time to retreat.
He bowed low. “Good afternoon. I see someone I need to speak to.”
They each bade him half-hearted farewells, and he strode off in search of Stanton and Hartley. If he could impress his lack of success on their minds, perhaps it would buy him more time to find a wife.
Caroline sipped her tart lemonade, watching Tristan walk away with a strange sense of loss. She shook the feeling away and turned the full breadth of her smile on Mr. Dennison.
“You have been so kind to entertain me this afternoon, Miss Whitby. I am grateful to call you a friend.”
Her glass stalled on the way to her lips, but she quickly recovered. “Indeed, I count you as one as well.”
Was that all? Before Tristan had arrived and ruined her proposal, she had been glad to find herself marrying someone she deemed a friend. They were not in love, but that had not bothered her. Now there was a tugging in her chest, a desire for something more.
Her gaze tripped along the crowd in search of Tristan, but she forced her attention back on Mr. Dennison.
“That makes me very happy. At this time, I am unsure what the future holds for me, as I’m sure you understand.” He lowered his glass and watched her face for a reaction as he spoke, his tone careful. “While I am sorting out what I feel, it would be helpful if I could continue to call upon you.”
Caroline raised her glass to her lips to buy a few moments of thought.
It would appear her future was not as settled as she had believed.
It sounded as though Mr. Dennison was still in the process of deciding whether he could share a life with her.
It was simultaneously frustrating and a relief.
Though she did not wish to dive into either of those feelings at present and determine why she was having a mixed reaction.
Once she had swallowed, she smiled. “Do I correctly understand that you have yet to make up your mind, Mr. Dennison?”
He inhaled. “Yes, that is the right of it. I cannot…you must understand that the future had been painted for me in a much different light than the reality of your sentiments. If I am to marry a woman who dislikes the thing which I love most, I will do so intentionally.”
“That is understandable.”
“I am glad you agree.” He took another sip of lemonade, a satisfied expression on his face. “It took some time to overcome the bitterness of deceit, as well.”
Caroline had nothing to say to this.
“Shall I escort you to your mother?” he asked.
“She is just there.” Caroline pointed to where Mama still spoke to a group of women not far from where they were.
Mr. Dennison took her empty glass and bowed to her. “I shall call on you soon, then.”
“I look forward to it.” Caroline turned away from him, uncertain.
She had a hint of hope, of course, but it was not the sole feeling beating in her chest. Once she reached her mother’s side, she wanted to be home.
Chief above all else, she was uneasy, which wasn’t a pleasant way to pass an afternoon garden party.
Mama gave her a searching look.
“You are aware of Miss Fielding’s ball, I’m sure,” Lady Tilbury said, beside Mama. “She has only just sent round the cards, but it will be in a fortnight, and I am convinced she intends to make an announcement that evening.”
“Will they not put an advertisement in the paper first?” Mrs. Plum asked. “Mr. Fielding will do everything proper, I’m sure.”
Caroline fought the impulse to roll her eyes. Could these women not speak about anything else?
“What other reason could she have for hosting a ball when it is not her debut Season and she is publicly courting a man already?” Lady Tilbury lifted her gray brows. “Depend upon it, she is confident in her match.”
If that was a barb against Caroline’s previous confidence in Mr. Dennison, she had learned her lesson. Besides, the women were being ridiculous. Kitty could throw a ball for any number of reasons. Their logic was excessively flawed.
Mama slipped her hand around Caroline’s elbow and pressed lightly. “We must go in search of Miss Fielding, Caro. I know how dearly you wanted to speak to her.”
The excuse was as good as any. Caroline dipped a curtsy and allowed her mother to gently lead her away from the group. “Mr. Dennison has decided to give me a chance.”
Mama inhaled. “That is good news.”
“Possibly. He has not discounted—”
“Shh,” Mama said, her hand tightening on Caroline’s arm as she pulled her to a stop. “That gentleman mentioned your father’s name.”
Caroline closed her mouth, listening to the group of men speaking behind her. It felt unseemly, but if they were discussing her father, then she was relevant to the conversation.
“It’s Johnson’s scheme. He’s found half a dozen men fool enough to throw their lot in with him,” a man said.
“Whitby and Kelling, you mentioned. Who are the other four?” another voice asked.
The reply was unintelligible. Mama looked to Caroline, worrying her lip.
“They shall either make a fortune or lose everything,” a gruff voice said. “It’s a risky time to be on the water.”
The first man laughed. “Lose everything? Kelling has more than enough blunt.”
“He might, but Whitby does not.”
Mama pulled at Caroline’s arm, and they moved on, neither of them glancing over their shoulders to see who had been so plainly speaking about them. Her mother’s face had reddened, which sent a bout of fury through her. “You shouldn’t listen to them. They do not know what they are saying.”
“Of course not. Throw their lot in—of all the ridiculous things to say about your father. He has no lot to throw anywhere.”
Caroline cringed, and unfortunately, her mother noticed.
“What do you make that face for?” Her words were slow, measured. They paused near the pond, away from all their friends. “What is it you know?”
“Nothing firsthand. It was merely something I’d heard. But do you not wonder if Father would use my dowry were he given the opportunity?”
“Your dowry? Of all the silly things.” Mama relaxed a fraction. “It is tied up, Caro. He’s unable to touch it.”
“Of course.” Caroline had believed the same thing. Could James have been wrong? His information faulty? For their sakes, she hoped that was the case.
“If he has invested in this scheme they spoke of, he found the funds somewhere else, I promise you.”
Caroline nodded, but her mind could not be entirely at ease.
Mama knew of the intricacies of her dowry, but James had more recently been with their father.
Surely he was in a position to know more of their financial situation, and he had come home concerned and in search of a wealthy wife.
It was not promising. Indeed, it caused her no small amount of alarm.
Something which she ought not to pass on to her mother. James was correct, and Mama didn’t have the constitution to withstand the anxiety of such news. There was no need to provide her with a reason to worry when they could not receive answers immediately.
“You look worried, Caro,” Mama said. “Do not allow this to vex you. Tell me now, what were you saying about Mr. Dennison?”
Caroline pushed the unwelcome thoughts to the back of her mind to think on later. “He has decided to give me a chance, but things are in no way settled. I must begin again, I suppose, and do my best to prove to him I would make a worthy, reliable wife, despite my fatal flaw.”
“What flaw is that?”
“How strongly I dislike the thing he likes most.”
“Horses,” Mama said. “I see. Well, we can only do our best, but given how quickly he has returned to your side, I do not fear. We will have a wedding announcement in our family shortly.”
Caroline noticed Tristan across the small pond, laughing with the two friends he had introduced to her earlier during their game of pall mall.
His head tilted back in that manner made his jaw look sharply angled, and his eyes were creased attractively with joy.
Caroline’s heart thudded in response, quite out of her control.
“You do wish to marry Mr. Dennison, Caro, do you not?” Mama said, drawing her attention back.
“Yes.”
Mama nodded. “As I thought. He shall be begging for an audience with you shortly, mark me.”
“I suppose time will tell.”