Chapter 4 #2
“Blast,” muttered Fitz’s dainty companion. “I was hoping for a little more from this encounter.”
“Yes, when one goes to the trouble of dousing an aged relative in the Serpentine, one naturally wants to see results from those efforts. Would you permit me to introduce you to my father?”
Giving him a narrow look, Caroline stepped forward and duly allowed herself to be presented to the marquess while Lady Quick stood stiffly by, staring into the middle distance with a tiny frown line notched between her brows.
A gust of wind blew, rattling the naked branches of the willow tree. Lady Quick gave a sudden, convulsive shiver. The blue tinge to her lips gave Fitz an idea.
“I say, Father, hadn’t we better offer these ladies a ride home? I would hate to see Lady Quick catch a chill while walking.”
Caroline brightened at once. “Oh yes, what a good thought!”
“No!” Lady Quick flushed a bit at her own vehemence, but nevertheless stood her ground. “That is, I’m sure Lord Alfred has many demands on his time and cannot possibly spare an hour to deliver us back to Portman Square. The Marquess of Huntingdon is a very important personage, Caroline.”
To Fitz’s surprise, his father visibly winced, even though Fitz had personally heard Lord Alfred espouse a nearly identical view on the importance of their family’s ancestral title.
“I would be delighted to escort you home,” the marquess said firmly. “Nothing could give me greater pleasure.”
“Mama, please,” begged Caroline shamelessly. “It would be a great shame if you took sick, and entirely due to my own clumsiness. I should never forgive myself.”
“It’s not the least trouble,” Fitz hastened to add when Caroline trod pointedly on his boot.
“Here, let me assist you into the curricle. Oh dear, my apologies but I believe there’s only room for one lady!
I will put Miss Quick up on Arion and walk them behind the carriage, all right and proper as can be. Up you go!”
Lady Quick’s flush deepened along with her frown line, but she was no match for their combined efforts. Fitz had her settled in the curricle in a trice, a lap blanket tucked cozily around her by his father, who was generally behaving like a protective mother fox with a wayward kit.
Their motley band set out up Rotten Row in the direction of Portman Square, where the ladies evidently lodged.
Caroline declined to ride Arion, preferring to walk, so they kept to the outer edge of the crowded road and did their best to keep the curricle containing their parents in view.
Fitz relished the warmth of her lithe figure at his side and the curl of her slender, gloved fingers in the crook of his elbow, and wondered what the hell was happening to him.
“Damn and blast, I can’t see a thing over all these people,” Caroline grumbled, craning her neck.
With the practiced patience of a tall person accustomed to being applied to for help with retrieving objects from on high as well as spotting friends in a crowd, Fitz obliged with his observations.
“They appear to be driving in silence. Or rather, my father is attempting conversation and is being met with one-word answers by your mother.”
Caroline wilted. “I cannot understand it. How could my plans have gone so wrong?”
He wanted to kiss the disappointed little frown off her face. “It seems a decent enough start to me. But then, I am not privy to the finer details of the plan.”
* * *
Lord Fitzwilliam paused delicately, letting the silence stretch between them. Caroline weighed the benefits of making him a true partner in this endeavor against her mother’s privacy and found that his recent performance had more than entitled him to a few secrets.
Lord Fitzwilliam had shown up when he said he would and had flawlessly followed her lead, with only a little light prompting. And it had been his contribution to extend the encounter by the offer to accompany them home.
He seemed game for anything, a quality Caroline appreciated very much in a co-conspirator. And after the disappointing way this first step of the plan had unfolded, Caroline was forced to acknowledge that she could very much use the help.
“When Mama and I arrived to visit Grandmother four weeks ago, I found a bundle of old letters in a wardrobe that used to be my mother’s when she was a girl. They were from before she met my father, from the year she made her debut. And they were all signed by an Alfred Drake.”
“My father.”
“Indeed. The man in the letters sounds deeply in love with my mother, though I cannot make out if they were actually engaged. There was clearly a strong attachment between them, though there are indications that Mama was very conscious of the difference in their stations. My step-grandfather is a baronet, but when Mama debuted, she was only the daughter of a sea captain—one who had made quite a tidy fortune at sea, and thereby raised himself and his family to a higher level of society.”
“Though not, perhaps, quite so high a level as that occupied by a future marquess.” Fitz nodded sagely. “I cannot imagine my grandparents would have approved. From what I know of them, they were an awfully self-impressed pair of tossers.”
“Yes, quite. The letters imply that your grandparents objected, though your father wrote often assuring Mama of his constancy in the face of their disapproval. I don’t know exactly what happened to tear them asunder, but the fact that she kept the letters, even when it would have been ruinous if they were found, suggests Mama was deeply affected by them.
That is what I need. My own parents were devoted to one another; I am convinced that only another such love will be impetus enough to convince Mama to marry again. ”
“Ah, love.” Lord Fitzwilliam looked amused, which unreasonably annoyed Caroline.
“I suppose you do not believe in love,” she muttered.
“Can’t say I’ve ever thought much about it.”
The breezy deflection piqued Caroline’s interest, but an elderly gentleman driving his grandchild in a dog cart nearly overturned in front of them, forcing Lord Fitzwilliam to stride forward and help right the cart, and the moment was lost.
“In any case,” Caroline said when grandfather and grandson were on their way once more, apologies and thanks dispensed all round and the unfortunate pony looked over and pronounced sound by Lord Fitzwilliam.
“I do not know precisely what events led to Mama leaving London and her first love behind. I think it very likely she sacrificed her own happiness to keep your father from falling out with his parents, it is just the sort of thing she would do. But at any rate the letters do mention how they met—”
“She stumbled into the Serpentine,” he guessed at once. “And Father came to her rescue. The sly old dog, I never would’ve supposed he had it in him.”
“I thought if we could recreate the circumstances of that initial meeting, it would rekindle the same emotions from long ago. But Mama was so cold to him!” Caroline shook her head, despondent. “I’ve never seen her like that. Perhaps this plan is entirely ill conceived.”
“On the contrary, I am more confident than ever.”
Caroline blinked. “Why?”
“Your mother was a bit on the chilly side, true. But she certainly remembered him. And the sight of him brought up strong feeling of some sort,” he pointed out. “We can work with that.”
“I suppose so,” Caroline said, doubtful but willing to be convinced.
Lord Fitzwilliam gave her a small, secret smile that lifted Caroline’s spirits and sent the blood coursing through her veins. He really was such an exemplary specimen of a male animal.
“Don’t fret,” he said. “Not only was my father ensorcelled by your mother’s charms into behaving very much against his character, but your mama was by no means unaffected herself. Only true indifference would have worried me.”
She took a moment to consider what he’d said from all angles. “Lord Fitzwilliam, I believe you are a sham.”
“I beg your pardon?” He appeared more astonished than affronted.
“It may or may not surprise you to know that I researched you before approaching you last night. Not only did I make inquiries among my grandmother and her cronies, who between them seem to know the intimate details of every family in the Ton dating back to William the Conqueror, but I also formed my own opinions through observation over the course of several weeks. Your reputation is that of a gadabout rogue, the least impressive shoot from a very impressive family tree.”
He laughed, not appearing offended in the slightest. “You don’t mince words.”
“I’m saying they were wrong. I was wrong!
” In her earnestness, Caroline forgot herself and the lessons in propriety her mother had hastily imparted on their journey from Scotland to London.
She grasped Lord Fitzwilliam’s large hand between both of hers and gripped it hard, willing him to understand.
“You play the part of the empty-headed society gentleman very well, but in fact I believe you are quite perceptive. You listen. And you understand what makes people do the things they do.”
His hand flexed in her grasp, and she released him. “That’s…very kind of you.”
“I’m not kind,” Caroline insisted. “I’m frank. Too much so for the Ton, my grandmother tells me. But you may believe me when I say that I feel very fortunate to have you with me in this endeavor.”
They walked on in silence for a moment. When Caroline stole a glance at her companion, she saw the strong muscles of his tanned throat working.
Eventually he said, with a forced lightness that impressed her, “You may be the first person to ever compliment me on my powers of perception. I know what people think of me. Like you, my father prizes directness. But unlike you, he seems to see very little in me worth admiring.”
Caroline frowned. She wasn’t at all sure she wanted to see her mother partnered with someone who couldn’t see his own son’s worth.