Chapter 17
It took all Caroline had to stand upright as Grey strolled back up to the ballroom. When he was out of sight, she walked across
the landing with as much dignity as she could muster. Past the houseboy, who gave no indication of having understood the exchange.
Past the lemon trees and down the hallway to her rooms. Once inside the privacy of her bedchamber she rushed to the bathroom.
There she collapsed on the floor tiles, then crawled to retch into the white porcelain toilet bowl again and again, gasping
and wiping back tears until all she could do was crouch on the floor, trembling.
She rinsed out her mouth and brushed her teeth. She had to get back to the party. But first, she needed to get hold of herself.
If there was even a chance Grey had been bluffing then she still held the cards. Her mind ran through the past fifteen minutes.
Mere minutes, that’s all it had taken to send her life spinning.
There had been a lull in the ballroom as servants carried away trays of half-eaten savories and cleared away used silverware
and napkins to set out fresh ones in preparation for filling the long buffet table with platters of fruit and pastries. During
this break, Caroline had slipped down the staircase. She had to get away from all those gossipy women, had to gather her thoughts
about Andrew Grey. She’d planned to lie down for a few minutes in her room, then return to the party.
Caroline looked down from the third floor and saw the houseboy still standing guard on the landing by the lemon trees.
He looked up, beaming, and she smiled. Her first genuine smile in what seemed like hours.
But when she descended the curved staircase and saw who else was on the landing, she stopped dead.
Andrew Grey was leaning on the handrail, a cigarette held languidly between his fingers.
He grinned up at her as she descended the last two steps.
Somehow, she’d known they would confront each other before the evening was over. This moment had been inevitable. He regarded
her with apparent amusement. Caroline paused in front of him, put a hand on the railing.
“Mr. Grey, I do hope you’re not here by yourself because you don’t like the music,” she said, playing the hostess. “I can
ask the trio to play something you enjoy.”
“The music is quite acceptable,” he said. “I’m here by myself because I wanted to think about something. Something that’s
been bothering me ever since we met. But now I remember. And it means I know your secret.”
“Mr. Grey, you’re teasing me.” She lifted her chin a little higher. “I have no secrets. You said we’ve met before at the Dominics’.”
“This life must mean a lot to you,” he said. “So I’m going to let you think things over for a day or two. After that, I’m
going to ask you for something and you’re going to give it to me.”
She twisted the gloves in her hands, felt the heat rise to her cheeks. “Sir, I’ll tell my husband of your impudence . . .”
“Oh, I doubt you’ll mention anything to Thomas,” Grey said. “I promise to keep this between us until I decide what to do about
what I know.” He dropped his cigarette butt into the lemon planter and brushed past her deliberately as he took the stairs
back up to the ballroom. Then he turned and smirked down at her.
“I know your secret,” he repeated.
And perhaps he did, Caroline thought as she sat in front of her vanity.
She pinched some color back into her cheeks and dabbed a little more ginger lily perfume on her wrists.
Perhaps he did know, but he couldn’t intimidate her.
Thinking back on their conversation, she was satisfied that she had not spoken a single word or given away with a single gesture anything to confirm Andrew Grey’s assertion that she had a secret.