Chapter 11
Caro bit back her dismay. Easier to trust herself around Eamon if she kept him at a distance, more difficult if they were gliding together, hand-in-hand, up and down the ballroom. She wanted to remain angry at him for Leo’s disappointment, and she feared he’d charm her into forgiveness too rapidly.
“An excellent suggestion, Your Highness,” Eamon stated, as though Jo was the most brilliant woman he’d ever met. “Your Grace? I have some small skill in dancing. Perhaps I can entertain you for a moment or two.”
He held out a hand, strong in a fine glove.
The quartet around them had no qualms about staring, waiting to see how Caro would respond. Even the aloof Lord Dominic regarded Caro with interest.
Whatever Caro’s feelings about the matter, Jo had put her on the spot. Acceptance would imply some forgiveness for Eamon, and refusing might send him away forever. How would Leo feel about that? Fleeing the ballroom was tempting but would provide even greater fodder for gossip.
Scandalmongers watched the tableau, some of whom already believed Caro wasn’t lofty enough to be friends with ladies like Jo and Louise. The matrons of the ton mistook Caro’s shyness for coolness and labeled her a haughty chit who’d married above her station.
Rebuffing Eamon might imply to the gossips that Caro would only dance with dukes. The disapproving matrons would enjoy such a thing.
Caro drew a breath for courage and made her decision. “Of course, Mr. Stone.” She laid her hand in Eamon’s.
Eamon’s eyes held understanding, as though he’d followed her inner debate. He closed strong fingers over hers and pulled her hand to the crook of his arm.
“I am enchanted, Duchess. I will endeavor not to tread on your toes.”
Caro could think of nothing in reply. She tried not to enjoy the sensation of Eamon’s hard arm under her fingers, his coat’s thin cashmere letting her feel his strength. He led her out, Jo watching them go with glee.
A line of ladies and gentlemen had formed in the center of the ballroom, the first set of the evening. Eamon ushered Caro to a spot in the middle of the line, gliding into place opposite her.
The gentleman next to him glanced at them, and his eyes widened. “Captain Stone? Is it you?”
Eamon, with a smile of greeting, extended his hand. “It is, indeed, Colonel Harper. Though I am a civilian once more, rendering me plain Mister.”
“I am the same.” The former colonel shook the offered hand.
“My dear,” he said to the lady with him.
“This is the man I was certain we’d tragically lost after I sent him off to find out what was happening on a foggy ridge at Waterloo.
I’d given him up, and then he jogs out of the smoke with his two companions, looking very pleased with himself. ”
“You have told me the tale.” Mrs. Harper regarded her husband with an indulgent glance that hinted she’d heard the story many a time. “I am happy to see you well, Mr. Stone. Your friends are also in good health?”
“Good Lord, they are here.” Colonel Harper stared past Caro to where Mr. McCormick and Lord Dominic stood.
“Well, well. We might have a chat this evening, if time allows it.” The colonel’s gaze went to Caro, and he bowed, flushing.
“Good heavens, my manners. Good evening, Your Grace. How delightful to see you again.”
The Harpers were two of the few people who had not condemned Miss Caroline Arnott when she’d agreed to marry the Duke of Aylesmore. The amiable Harpers had long been friends of Jo’s parents, and Caro had always admired their comfortable but caring marriage.
“Colonel,” Caro ducked her head in response. “Mrs. Harper.”
“Please give my regards to the dowager,” Colonel Harper said. He raised his voice over the music that had begun. “You ought to pay a call on us, Stone. Bring your friends, and we will have a lovely time.”
“I’m certain they would be happy to,” Eamon said with sincerity.
“Excellent. We must fix a date—”
“Cease your chatter, husband,” Mrs. Harper admonished amiably. “We are beginning.”
“Yes, indeed, my dear.” Colonel Harper laughed at himself as the dance commenced. “Afterward, Stone. I shall keep you to it. That is an order.”
“We are finished with orders now, Mr. Harper,” Eamon said. “But yes, let us certainly fix a date.”
Around them, gentlemen were giving bows to their partners. Eamon executed a graceful one to Caro, and she shakily curtsied in return.
Colonel Harper was Caro’s partner in her corner, so she took his offered hands after she and Eamon had passed around each other and back to their place in line.
The country dance was lively, and the nature of it did not lend itself to conversation. Caro continually returned to Eamon to link arms and promenade or to catch hands to spin to the opposite point in the line.
Caro’s nervousness eased as the dance went on, each couple making their way down the floor in the pattern. The music, played by one of the best orchestras in London, was vibrant, and reminded Caro how much she loved to dance.
Leopold hadn’t been one for it, as he’d no longer been able to move very swiftly, and Caro had stayed quietly by his side at gatherings such as this one. It was heavenly to glide once more with the music, to spin and step, catching the tempo.
Eamon possessed more than the little skill he’d boasted of. He moved with controlled athleticism, never missing a step. He smiled charmingly at his corner partner and beamed an even brighter one on Caro.
Caro had to keep reminding herself how annoyed she was that he hadn’t turned up today, upsetting Leo.
She hadn’t admitted, even to herself, her own disappointment.
She hadn’t liked the way she’d constantly watched out of the window for a hackney to roll up and discharge Eamon, or for him to come walking around the corner to the square with his buoyant stride.
Hadn’t liked the sting in her heart when hackney after hackney passed without halting, and no gentleman glided out of the fog.
Caro had accomplished little that day, and she was vexed at herself.
When she’d seen Eamon enter the ballroom, her heart had leapt with gladness, and she’d had to strive to remain put out with him.
His explanation relieved her more than she cared to admit. Of course, Eamon was at Mr. Cheswell’s beck and call, and he logically would be sent to examine other art collections. She also believed his claim that Mr. Cheswell had promised to send word but neglected to do so. Not Eamon’s fault.
Still, she couldn’t appear to be too eagerly forgiving. Eamon might draw the conclusion that Caro was giddily happy to see him. Which she was. She’d feared that Eamon had already tired of his daily visits and would cease them.
Her relief made her effervescent, but it would never do to show such a thing.
Caro also had to decide whether to forgive Jo. Jo hadn’t been in the least surprised when Eamon had strolled in, which meant she’d orchestrated Eamon’s invitation and likely that of his friends. Caro needed to have a long and serious talk with the interfering minx.
For now, Caro let her cares fly away and danced. Her worries dissolved on the lightness of the music and the pleasure of movement. She’d been still for too long.
The room blurred, becoming a bubble of color and sound. Eamon’s strength anchored her, his smile warming her through.
It had been an age since such awareness had taken hold of Caro, and for this hour on this night, she decided to enjoy it.
When Caro and Eamon reached the top of the line, they separated to promenade to the bottom.
Caro glimpsed Jo and Louise still standing near the garland of hothouse flowers that Princess Maude loved, watching Caro with very pleased expressions on their faces.
Eamon’s gentlemen friends sipped ratafia and appeared uncomfortable, Lord Dominic much more so than Mr. McCormick.
Eamon bowed to Caro when they met again, and she curtsied. Her shakiness had vanished, and she couldn’t stop her smile answering his.
Something raw flickered in Eamon’s eyes, and Caro’s body heated like a flame.
Eamon shielded his expression as he passed Caro again, their left hands touching as they went by. The contact was a mere brush, but the spark that jumped between them made her knees weak.
She calmed herself by taking the hands of the kind Colonel Harper, her corner partner once more. When she returned to her place, the orchestra finished the piece, and the dancers halted, breathless and flushed, applauding.
Before Caro could decide what to say to Eamon as they walked from the floor, Colonel Harper appeared at her side.
“Might I escort you to a seat, Your Grace?” he asked.
Of course—it was proper for the older gentleman to ensure that a younger and higher-ranking lady was looked after. Caro could only nod and agree.
She saw Eamon smoothly move to Mrs. Harper without missing a step and offer the same to her.
“I am pleased to see you out and about, Your Grace,” Colonel Harper said as they strolled to the edge of the ballroom.
“If you’ll forgive me my blunt observation, you are young, with much of your life ahead of you.
Do not stifle it in that mausoleum of a house.
Captain Stone is a fine young man. He will take very good care of you. ”
Caro started, then rapidly fanned herself, pretending the dance had overheated her. “I am barely acquainted with Mr. Stone, Colonel Harper.”
Colonel Harper’s gaze turned knowing. “I met my Felice only weeks before we wed. You will have plenty of time to grow familiar with each other, my dear, through your life together. I am not saying you ought to rush into marriage, but if you decided to, Stone would not be a bad choice. His upbringing was a tad rough, but that is not his fault, and he’s smoothed his edges splendidly. ”
“I have no wish to be courted,” Caro said, flustered. “I have a son to look after.”