Chapter 13
Simone was sitting in Arabella’s parlor after a fine supper with her friend, Silas, Evelina and Lord Blackburn. She had felt an odd sense of unease all day and it hadn’t faded, even with a pleasant evening.
And that was when the letter arrived.
“From Mrs. Banfield, Mrs. Windham,” Barnaby said as he delivered the missive.
Arabella shook her head. “It’s awfully late for the post.”
“It was brought by a runner who was sent rushing from the countryside.”
Evelina let out a cry and leapt to her feet to join Arabella.
Silas and Vaughn were swift on their heels.
Simone couldn’t rise for a moment, there was such a swell of terror that gripped her.
To send a runner so late implied an emergency.
Illness, injury…could it be Caroline, herself, that was harmed? Was she reaching out for help?
“Julia’s engagement has ended poorly,” Arabella said as she read, her tone a little wobbly. “Very poorly. She and Aunt Caroline are following behind the runner as quickly as possible and should be home after midnight tonight.”
Almost immediately, Barnaby returned. He appeared confused and concerned now. “Mr. and Mrs. Windham, there is a man here with a cart loaded with Miss Julia’s things. He said he was contracted by Lord Castleton to bring them here and received word to execute that plan this morning.”
“Christ,” Silas muttered, and he and Vaughn exchanged a look. “He must have intended to end this thing with Julia for some time.”
Arabella gripped her husband’s arm and she looked wobbly. “Please, please take care of it.”
Silas turned toward her and cradled her closer. Simone had to turn away from the intensity of their connection and of Evie and Vaughn’s as he moved to her to comfort her, as well.
“I’ll manage it all, my love. We’ll be back shortly. Come, Blackburn.”
The two men departed and Simone finally found the strength to get up and cross to Arabella.
She had dropped her aunt’s letter with the second interruption and Simone stooped to collect it.
She’d received so many letters in the last couple of weeks from Caroline.
She knew every swirl of her beautiful handwriting.
This note was brief and the hand was shaky. In every word, Simone could feel Caroline’s heartbreak, her sadness, her fear, and her guilt. She lifted the letter to her throbbing heart and squeezed her eyes shut.
All she wanted was to be able to help Caroline. To hold her through this.
“God, this is a nightmare,” Arabella said, and sank down on the settee next to her sister. She rested her head against Evie’s shoulder briefly. “Castleton got rid of the house he let for Julia before he left, but of course we thought she’d go straight to his estate in London when they returned.”
Evie sighed. “She can stay with us.”
“Or with Silas and me,” Arabella agreed. “You’ll have the baby any day—with us might be better.”
“She might want space,” Simone suggested softly, and realized those words might apply to Caroline, as well. After all, she likely hadn’t written to Simone about this. “Perhaps offer her the option of staying at your old place, Arabella.”
“You’re right, of course,” Arabella said with a glance at Simone. “Yes. Oh, there’s so much to do now.”
“May I help?” Simone asked.
Arabella rose and crossed to her. For many years, Simone would have been her first line of defense. But things had changed. They were still very close, of course, but Arabella had her husband. She turned more often to her sisters, especially Evie. Times were changing.
“No, my dearest, sweetest Simone. Not tonight, I don’t think. I’m sure we’ll all reach out to you in the days to come as we understand better what has happened.”
Simone nodded. “Then I’ll leave you so your family can make decisions and plans while you await their return.”
“Thank you,” Arabella said, and kissed her cheek.
Simone waved Evie back down when she tried to rise and bent to buss her cheek, instead. “Tell Julia and your aunt…anything I can do. Anything at all.”
“Yes,” Arabella said, clearly distracted.
So Simone took the opportunity to slip away, feeling more than ever the fact that no matter how she and Caroline danced around each other, this was not her family. And while she’d certainly offer support, she couldn’t force it on any of them. Even Caroline. And oh how it ached to be so helpless.
It was nearly two in the morning when Caroline finally dropped her niece off.
They had stopped at Arabella’s first and talked to the rest of the family.
When Julia had wanted to be alone, Caroline had escorted her back to Arabella’s old home from before her marriage.
Now that her niece was safe, Caroline sat in her carriage, feeling it pull her toward her own home.
She almost didn’t feel in control of the hand she lifted and knocked against the carriage wall. Her driver stopped and she felt the vehicle rock as he came down and opened the door.
“Is everything well, Mrs. Banfield?”
“I know it’s impossibly late, Potts. But I need…I need to stop at Miss Stanhope’s.”
She thought she saw a flicker of surprise on the servant’s face, but then he nodded. “Whatever you desire, madam. I’ll take us straight there.”
The ride felt interminable even though it wasn’t all that far from Arabella’s former home to Simone’s. Once they arrived and she came down from the carriage, she stared up at the dark house.
“Er, Potts, if I am allowed entry and don’t return within ten minutes, go home and rest. I’ll ask Miss Stanhope to arrange my return, there’s no reason for you to wait up after such a long day.”
Potts appeared both uncertain and relieved. “I don’t mind.”
She smiled at him. “You’ve very kind, but I insist.”
“Yes, madam.”
He climbed back up onto the rig and she drew in a breath before she came up the stairs and knocked on the door.
She expected there to be a long wait, that she might have to knock more than once to rouse a servant who would then have to be convinced to allow entry and to wake Simone in the middle of the night.
But to her surprise, after a moment the door opened and it was Simone, herself, wrapped in a silk robe, dark hair down around her shoulders.
“Caroline,” she gasped, and pulled her into the foyer.
She shut the door behind her and then Caroline was pressed back against the surface as Simone kissed her passionately.
Her arms came around her and she held her so tightly that Caroline finally felt safe to sag with the weight of everything that had happened.
“I woke you, I’m so sorry,” she said against Simone’s soft lips.
“You didn’t.” Simone pulled away and guided her not to the parlor, but toward the stairs at the back of the foyer. “I couldn’t sleep worrying about you returning home and was pacing around like a gothic heroine, I fear.”
“How did you know?” Caroline gasped. “About my return to London?”
“I was with Arabella and Evie when your letter came.”
Simone was still drawing her forward, up the stairs and then down a dim hallway toward a large door. Caroline’s heart throbbed as she realized it had to be Simone’s bedchamber. Her private room where she did…well, Caroline could scarcely allow herself to think of everything Simone did in that room.
She opened the door and allowed Caroline to enter first. She looked around.
She didn’t know what she’d expected from the chamber.
Considering Simone had entertained lovers here in the past, something sensual and seductive.
And it was that. But it was also…her. The wall color was a gray-blue she’d seen Simone wear over the years, the artwork was from some of the artists they’d discussed during their acquaintance and even seen present at Lady Lena’s Salon.
There was a small bookcase with worn books stacked on the shelves, along with a few trinkets.
She wanted to explore every nook and cranny, suck in every fact she could determine from seeing this woman’s private things.
Instead she turned and found Simone watching her from the fireplace.
“What do you need, Caroline?” she asked, and there was a tremble to her voice. As if this moment was as charged for her as it was for Caroline. How could that be? Simone had done this sort of thing so many times.
Caroline swallowed. “I-I want to touch you,” she admitted softly. “I want to see you.”
Simone’s lips parted slightly and then she nodded.
She untied the robe at her waist and let the silk drop at her feet.
She was naked beneath and Caroline nearly went to her knees.
God, but she was beautiful. Like a goddess someone had carved from stone and then had magically come to life.
Her curves and lines were absolutely perfect.
“Your turn or it’s not fair,” Simone whispered.
Caroline drew in a few short breaths and tried to recall how to form words. “I-I can’t do the dress myself.”
A slow smile curled Simone’s lips and she crossed to her with a seductive twitch of her hips.
She drew her fingers up the length of Caroline’s bare arms and then slowly turned her back to her so she could unfasten the line of buttons that closed her gown.
She made quick work of them and a slash of jealousy curled through Caroline.
Simone had done this before, with other women.
Had this done by men. It wasn’t that she was angry about that.
She admired Simone for making her way, she didn’t judge her.
But in that heated moment, she wished she was the only one who’d ever touched Simone. She wished they were both sweet and green and unbothered by a lifetime of regret and heartache and pain.
Simone pushed her gown forward so it drooped at her waist and then wrapped her arms around her from behind.
As she bent to kiss along the column of her neck just like she had at the Donville Masquerade weeks ago, she murmured, “You can’t go off in your mind, Caroline.
I’m only going to bring you back. Make you forget. ”