Chapter 18 #3
“I know you find me totally lacking in delicate sensibilities, sir, and that you tolerated our acquaintance because you needed the money, but…”
He opened his mouth as if to speak, but she continued in a rush.
“But still, I want to thank you for all you have done for me.” She smiled a little crookedly. “And to tell you that I shall greatly miss your company.” Her lips quivered. “Despite everything, we had some fun.”
“You have a rather odd notion of fun,” he murmured, his voice still rich with humor. His hand tightened on hers, and the odd look came back to his eyes. “I…”
Davenport’s voice seemed to suddenly desert him, and in the next moment, the music came to an end.
Caroline let out an unhappy sigh.
There was a milling about as the couples around them began to leave the dance floor.
A voice boomed out from the crowd. “Julian! I haven’t seen you in an age.
I meant to congratulate you on the title.
” A gentleman of imposing girth, sporting a canary-yellow waistcoat that only emphasized the size of his stomach, appeared to give substance to the words.
“Though, of course, perhaps ‘congratulate’ isn’t the right word given the circumstances.
Still, you’ll be a far better earl than Charles, if I may say so. ”
He and his partner fell in step beside Caroline and the earl, oblivious to the spasm of frustration that crossed Davenport’s face.
“Kind of you, Stanfield,” muttered the earl as he sought to steer away from the man and his partner.
“Come, let us have a glass of champagne together after we have delivered these lovely young ladies to the next lucky men in line for their company,” continued the man as he gave a jovial wink at the smiling matron by his side.
The earl appeared unwilling to leave. Turning back to Caroline, he murmured, “As I was saying…”
Stanfield finished making an elaborate bow to his lady. Straightening with some difficulty, he clamped a beefy hand around the earl’s elbow and led him away.
Well, thought Caroline, that was that.
She had managed to make a perfect cake of herself.
Drat Jeremy for encouraging her to think the earl might harbor any feelings other than disapproval of both her character and her conduct.
Her words—all of them—had merely shocked him, though by now, he should have gotten used to her unbridled tongue.
The only saving grace was that, in all likelihood, it hadn’t been possible to sink any lower in his regard. Still, Caroline couldn’t help but wonder what he had been about to say before the unfortunate interruption.
There had been something about his expression…
Another sigh slipped from her lips. No doubt he had merely been about to give her another set-down, spelling out in great detail her copious faults.
She was saved from having to dwell any further on such lowering thoughts as a smiling young gentleman stepped up to take her hand for the next dance.
* * *
Davenport watched her being led out for yet another set and took a long swallow of champagne.
It seemed that her dance card was, if anything, oversubscribed.
His eyes narrowed at the sight of the cluster of eligible young lords hanging on her every move, more than willing to take up any slack in attentiveness.
The chances of having a private word with her were dwindling with every passing note of the violins.
He forced himself to watch her movements—steps full of life, head tilted so that curling tendrils brushed the nape of her neck, hips swaying in a way that sent a rush of heat through him. Draining the rest of his glass did nothing to quench it.
Of course she would be surrounded by a bevy of admirers. She was an heiress—and a damnably attractive one, though most of the young louts probably didn’t understand that her appeal transcended mere prettiness. It was her indomitable spirit that had him near baying at the moon…
“Halloo, Julian. Quite the evening, eh? Enjoying yourself?”
Davenport started at Lucien’s words, then merely glowered at him.
“Glad you could make it,” continued the viscount cheerfully as he refilled both the earl’s glass and his own.
“Hmmph.” Davenport clamped his lips together, determined to avoid any conversation.
He was not in the mood, nor was he in charity with the young man at the moment.
If it wasn’t for Lucien, he would have been safely ensconced in front of his own hearth, with only his own visions of Caroline to torment himself.
Not her in the flesh.
Seemingly oblivious to the earl’s cool reception, Lucien drained his glass in one swallow and turned his eyes to his cousin.
“Jackanapes, all of them,” he announced as he watched a thin marquess with his hair cut a la Brutus lead Caroline through the steps of a country dance.
Davenport couldn’t hide a look of surprise.
Lucien smiled. “No bottom to any of ’em. They’re all scared to death of her. It wouldn’t do at all.”
“What wouldn’t?” asked the earl in spite of his resolve to remain indifferent to the viscount’s patter.
“No, it wouldn’t do at all,” repeated Lucien, as if he hadn’t heard Davenport’s question.
“What she needs is someone who’ll have the sense to let her ride neck and leather with him.
Granted, she’s a rare spirit and there are bound to be some clashes.
The point is, I know it won’t be easy, but nothing worth having ever is. ”
Davenport shifted his weight uncomfortably. “I believe you’re foxed.”
Lucien studied his empty glass. “I have probably drunk more than my uncle would have wished—but less than I intend to before the night is done. It is a celebration, after all.”
“Yes, Jeremy deserves it.”
“Indeed, he does. Jeremy took a chance. Bravo for him! He had the fortitude to pursue what he wanted, regardless of how daunting the odds might have seemed.” The bubbles in the viscount’s glass frothed up once again as he refilled it.
“Here is to taking chances. Better to do that than to be a coward and wonder for the rest of your life about what might have been.” He threw back the contents and, with an enigmatic smile, left the earl in a state of even greater confusion than before.
Another glance showed Caroline twirling around in the arms of yet another gentleman, her graceful neck arched in laughter at some murmured pleasantry.
Deciding that the evening was going from bad to worse, Davenport banged his own glass down and quit the ballroom to go sulk in the privacy of his own bedchamber.
* * *
Midnight had long since passed before Caroline was able to cry off from dancing.
The number of guests was finally beginning to dwindle, and the musicians were showing signs of putting down their instruments for the last time.
The evening had been a great success. Jeremy would no doubt find himself with more commissions than he could ever accept.
So at least she had managed to be a positive influence in someone’s life, she mused as her eyes involuntarily darted to a certain corner of the ballroom.
Just as quickly, she chided herself for being such a goose. How silly to have thought he might have remained to finish off their conversation.
“Come, maybe this will lighten your spirits, cuz.” Lucien placed a glass of champagne into her hands, then slipped his arm in hers and led her to a more private spot. She was about to open her mouth in protest when he cut her off.
“A stunning success, Caro, m’dear. Jeremy appears as sought after as a diamond of the first water with twenty thousand a year. A toast is in order.” His speech had become a trifle slurred, but his feet were steady under him as he raised his own glass to his lips.
Caroline peered at his flushed face. “Oh dear, Luce, I fear you are deep in your cups. Pray, try to avoid Papa so he doesn’t ring a peal over your head.”
He grinned. “I think he’ll forgive me this one transgression. After all, this is a special evening, with much to celebrate! Jeremy… The documents staying out of that snake Farrington’s hands… Your safe return… Oh, and your future happiness.”
Her head shot up. “What?”
“Saw Julian earlier. Told him he was a damn fool if he didn’t offer for you.”
“You didn’t!” she gasped.
“I did,” he asserted. “Well, not in so many words, but he’s no slowtop. I am sure he took my meaning.”
Caroline colored with mortification. “I could strangle you, Lucien, truly I could,” she said in a tight voice.
“Oh, fustian. A fine big brother I’d be if I didn’t look out for your happiness.” He cleared his throat with a cough. “You are in love with him, aren’t you?”
She made a strangled sound.
“Thought so.” He grinned again, and his teasing softened with affection. “I like Julian. What’s more, I respect him. I always have. He’s just the fellow for you, since you won’t have me.”
Caroline feared that her face must be bright scarlet. “You really are addled in your cockloft,” she sputtered. “Why, he doesn’t even like me above half…”
“Has he kissed you?”
She stopped in midsentence, her expression changing from one of indignation to one of being caught out. “It didn’t mean anything,” she finally managed to mutter.
Lucien laughed out loud. She was spared further embarrassment by the approach of her father.
“I think I shall take a stroll in the garden,” whispered Lucien, giving her a broad wink.
“I could use a breath of fresh air.”
“Coward!” she hissed.
“It’s called strategy, m’dear. I’m getting rather good at it, don’t you think?” With those parting words, he disappeared into the shadows.
The duke placed his hand where Lucien’s had just rested. “Now where has that young scamp taken himself off to?”
“He’s gone to clear his head.” There was a touch of asperity in her voice.
Her father gave a chuckle. “I can well imagine why he wishes to avoid me.” Then his head cocked to one side. “Now, what has he done to overset you?”
She gave a deep sigh. “Oh, never mind. Just his usual teasing.”