Chapter Five
“Thank you for meeting me before the fashionable hour.” Benedict looked at the afternoon sun as it pushed weakly through the clouds. “I fear even an hour later would make it too cold for that dress.” He glanced significantly down at his fiancée’s cleavage.
She had lovely skin, lightly browned to a golden hue.
He didn’t hold with the fashionable idea of painting or bleaching one’s face to a ghostly white.
It made him think of death every time. Miss Caddick had a healthy pink to her flesh with a modest tan that he appreciated.
Unfortunately, she also had full breasts and her ample cleavage detracted from her beauty, so he looked away rather than down.
Perhaps he should have selected a taller bride.
“I was pleased for the walk,” she responded. “And you are correct, the weather is better now than it will be in a couple hours.”
She spoke with a pleasant voice, calm and yet clear.
She had no idea her voice was what first made her acceptable to him.
She was one of a dozen possible brides, all based on her financial and social particulars.
He’d wanted to delay matrimony as long as possible, but his time had run out.
His parents were anxious that the title get an heir, and Lord Castlereigh had made it clear that his advancement at the Foreign Office required a useful wife.
And so he had begun his search several weeks ago.
He’d been about to choose someone else when he’d heard her speak that one time and had been delighted. Her voice did not grate, neither did it push. There was no nasal quality, which he abhorred, and he could well imagine his children being put to bed at night with her voice in their ears.
He’d decided upon her that very moment, though he naturally took pains to meet every woman on Major Vance’s list before making his final offer to Miss Caddick’s father. And now she walked beside him at a measured pace with a contained aspect. He could not be more satisfied.
“Are you recovered from last night’s ball?” he inquired. “I apologize for leaving so abruptly.”
“Of course, I understand. I hope all is well?”
“Missives arrived from the front. And yes, all is well. Napoleon is defeated and should abdicate very soon now. It is only a matter of time.”
“That is great news,” she said, and he could hear the relief in her tone. “But I expect you are very busy making sure he and his remaining army knows they are defeated.”
He smiled. “That is the task of the military. My work is diplomatic in nature. My efforts are built upon their firm foundation. If they had not defeated the Corsican, then I would have little to do.”
She slanted him an assessing look. “I believe you are being modest. But either way, I cannot expect you to dance attendance upon me when our nation is at stake.”
It had hardly been the nation at stake. More his own sanity if he’d been forced to listen to more inane prattle at the ball.
Nevertheless, he seized upon the excuse to make a point.
“It is good that you realize I am not reliable at social events. I often need to leave early as I did last night, and that is if I attend at all. I enjoy a ball as much as any man—” A lie if ever there was one.
“But my work requires me to miss too many of them.”
“Do men enjoy them?” she wondered aloud. “It seems to me that unless a man is searching for a bride or launching a daughter, he is more interested in his own conversation over drinks at his club rather than in the heated space of a crowded ballroom.”
He chuckled. “I do enjoy dancing with a good partner.”
“Then you have selected the wrong bride, my lord. I am afraid I am barely adequate on the dance floor.”
They were passing another couple strolling in the fitful sunlight, and he nodded to the pair as was appropriate.
They responded in kind and would have stopped to converse (the gentleman had very specific political ambitions), but Benedict had no interest in a distraction.
This time was carved out specifically to be with his future bride.
“You dance quite well,” he said once they were far enough past the other pair.
“You flatter me.”
He did, but she was by no means clumsy. “I am more concerned with your exchange with my aide-de-camp last night. I understand he upset you.”
She tensed, but only by the most minute fraction. “It was nothing, my lord.”
“It was enough that several people overheard and reported back to me about it. What did he say to you?”
“Truly, it was nothing. A minor bit of confusion. I have already forgotten it.”
He waited a moment, as did she, to see if the topic was finished. He wouldn’t allow it to drop, but he wanted to see if she was one of those women who claimed to forget something and yet chattered on incessantly about it anyway.
“Look how pretty that bird is,” she exclaimed, pointing to a nearby tree. “A cardinal, I think, and so bright.”
Good. She was not one to prattle on. “Major Vance has been my man for years. He served with me in the peninsula and came with me to the Foreign Office. He has my utmost confidence.”
Her hand dropped back down to her side. Clearly the bird was forgotten, and then she spoke, her words filled with the flat notes of resignation. “Of course, my lord. I shall apologize to him when next we meet.”
“You misunderstand me, Miss Caddick.”
“My lord?”
“I would like to know how he insulted you.”
She jolted, clearly shocked.
“Did you think I assumed you at fault?” He didn’t need her to answer. “I have known Major Vance for many years. I know his value and his weaknesses. I doubt you are someone who causes scenes whereas he can be…”
“Irritatingly misguided?”
He chuckled. “The major is a passionate man. He is the most honest and trustworthy soul I know, but rigid ethics have caused him some pain.”
“Oh?” she asked, a little too eagerly. “You find him rigid and uncompromising?”
Occasionally. “Do you know anything of his history?”
“Not even the tiniest.”
“He is the by-blow of the Duke of Torbay and Madame Triana Sabate.”
“He’s a bastard?” She huffed. “One would think that a man with such parentage would be less inflexible in his thoughts.”
“Then one would not know Major Vance. Because of his unfortunate birth, he must work harder and be smarter than any of his contemporaries. Worse, any deviation from the highest moral standard is seen as proof that he deserves every ill thing that has ever befallen him.”
“All because he is illegitimate?”
“Yes.”
He waited to see how judgmental she would be. Indeed, when he’d first heard of their disagreement, he’d thought she was reacting to the offense of his mere birth. But it would seem she had not known of it.
“Children do not choose their parents,” she said. “His birth was their fault, not his.”
“I am pleased to hear you say such.”
She slanted a look up at him. “I am not a hard-hearted woman, my lord.”
“Which is why I must ask you again, what did he do to upset you?”
She shook her head. “As I said, it was nothing.”
Her hand was on his arm in the proper place at the proper weight. At her words, he grabbed her fingertips with his free hand and squeezed them tight enough to catch her attention.
“Honesty, Miss Caddick. Do not lie to me or our marriage will be very unhappy indeed.” His voice held no censure, but she understood his message nonetheless.
“It was a simple misunderstanding, my lord. He thought he saw me someplace I was not. He was very insistent, but he was mistaken.” There was force behind her words.
“Where?”
“It’s not—” She cut off her words when his fingers tightened over hers again. “Someplace called the Rose Garden. Do you know it?”
“I do indeed.” A great deal better than she did. “And he thought he saw you there? In what capacity?”
She snorted. “Not in any capacity that you can imagine.” She took a steadying breath. “He was confused, my lord.”
He stopped their walk near a tree. The park had several, and this one was mercifully deserted.
He turned her to face him and stepped intimately close.
To anyone observing, they would look like a newly engaged couple sharing a romantic moment.
But when she faced him, he spoke with the full force of his personality.
“Think carefully before you answer my next question, Miss Caddick. We are to be together for the rest of our lives, and I cannot manage what I do not know. Sometimes the tiniest details can be the unravelling of the cleverest plots.”
She pulled back, confusion on the delicate features of her face. “You are being disturbingly fierce.”
He didn’t soften any part of his stance or delivery. “Miss Caddick, were you then or have you ever been inside the Rose Garden?”
She tilted her head back and stared hard at him. He noted every flicker of her eyes, every shift of her body. He was a man trained to spot lies, and he studied her for every possible tell.
“I have not,” she said firmly. “And it does you no credit to suggest otherwise.”
“Excellent,” he said with a surge of joy. Then he pulled her gloved hand up to his mouth and pressed a kiss there. “You are a fantastic liar. That will serve me well.”