Chapter Five
That evening, Caroline strolled along the paths of Vauxhall with her elder brother at her side.
She was rather glad her father hadn’t been able to join them as chaperone; she always worried what mischief he could get himself into if there was even the faintest possibility of cards or drink. Besides which, this would be her public debut with the Earl of Rockford, and that man was as difficult to predict as the weather in Scotland.
“You mustn’t look so anxious, Caro,” Edmund cautioned. Her big brother had her arm through his as they strolled and patted her hand. “Remember, we’re here to start rumors of your romance with an earl, not of an impending execution.”
“You’ve never met the earl before, have you?” she asked. Edmund shook his head. “If you had, you might understand my nervousness a bit more.”
Though it wasn’t exactly nervousness she felt. Not fearful nerves, really. She felt strangely anxious to see the man again. Her thoughts had trailed after him the whole afternoon in preparation for the evening. Probably because she wanted this charade done with as quickly as possible.
“I’m sure I’ll like him, though, if he’s to be a member of the family.” Her brother smiled at that, all earnestness.
Edmund had always been the cheeriest and kindest of the Devereux siblings.
Their father had once muttered that if Edmund had been the girl and Caroline the boy, their lives would have all run much smoother.
Caroline found that as insulting for Edmund as for herself; why shouldn’t men be helpful and good-natured and women forthright? Why must everything divide so neatly down a line that no one could ever cross simply because of an accident of birth?
“Well, I just hope that His Lordship and I get along all right together,” Caroline said.
As they wandered, she couldn’t help taking in all the opportunities of the gardens.
Caroline was always hungry for new sensation, and she eyed her surroundings greedily. There were colored paper lanterns swaying in the breeze, a hedge maze in which one might have great fun getting lost.
Having limited funds meant the Devereux family did not engage in too many outings, so Caroline intended to wring every drop of enjoyment she could from them.
She regretted now that they hadn’t brought Simon along. “Isn’t this marvelous? Perhaps we can visit the cascades after we find Rockford. I hear it looks just like a real waterfall! We can tell Simon all about it later.”
“That sounds quite jolly. Hopefully Rockford will get here before all the attractions shut down.”
Indeed, where the devil was he? Rockford had sent a quick note this afternoon telling them to meet at the Rotunda at eight o’clock. If the whole point of this excursion was to be seen by the ton and stir gossip, then Rockford’s absence was driving the whole thing in the opposite direction of helpful.
For the first time in her life, Caroline could feel eyes scrutinizing her every movement. Gossip spun around her, weaving a net that would bind Caroline if she wasn’t careful. Drat it all, where was that maddening earl?
“If he’s only set us up for disappointment, I’ll find some way to get back at him,” she muttered.
“Doesn’t Rockford have a great deal to lose in all this?” Edmund looked worried; Caroline had informed him of her plot, and while he’d never chastise her, he obviously didn’t relish the blackmail element. Her brother’s innate decency made Caroline feel a bit ashamed.
“Yes, Lord Rockford might end up with a sizeable scandal if I put my plan into motion. But his pride may well win out in the end.” Caroline sighed. “Most men would rather sell their family on the black market than admit defeat.”
“No, they wouldn’t.” Edmund appeared surprised. “At least, I wouldn’t.”
“You mean you’d marry Rockford to save the rest of us?” she asked, trying for cheer. “Sadly, you may not be what he seeks in a bride. You’re far too sweet, Eddie.”
Her elder brother laughed, but his concern remained.
“I mean I’d gladly marry anybody to help Father and you and Simon. If it gave you all a chance at a better life, of course I would. Even if I were blackmailed into it myself.”
Dear Edmund meant every word. Caroline hugged his arm tighter; really, why couldn’t she be as damned good as he was?
“Well, I’d never let that happen. You’ve got to marry to please yourself, not anyone else.”
“It’s good of you, Caro, but I should be saying such things to you . Sometimes I feel like a real nothing, you know. My time at Cambridge was wasted; I can’t seem to advance in the law, and I’m not the sort of fellow to attract an heiress.”
Caroline knew her brother felt true guilt over his inability to contribute substantially to the family. Even if he sometimes exasperated her, she could never berate him. “You’re too sweet, Eddie. I told Sybil as much the other day.”
“Nonsense.” He cleared his throat and looked around with greater interest than before. “You didn’t arrange for Lady Sybil to meet us as well, did you? It could be rather fun as a group outing, don’t you think?”
“No, I think Rockford wants as small a party as possible. Only a select audience may glimpse his impression of a smoldering cur.”
And then, out of the crowds, the smoldering cur appeared as if by magic and stood before Caroline and her brother.
Caroline cursed inwardly a bit; she’d promised herself that the earl would not unbalance her, but she couldn’t keep that vow. He had undoubtedly made an effort to appear as seductive as possible, dressed in a waistcoat of forest green with that wild black hair thickly framing his face. Her eyes trailed helplessly along his body, from the narrow waist to the powerful legs encased in breeches and boots.
She couldn’t believe he was naturally this appealing. It put her at such a disadvantage whenever she momentarily lost all verbal ability.
“Mr. Devereux. Miss Devereux.” Rockford gave a short nod to her brother and captured Caroline’s hand. He raised it to his lips…but didn’t kiss it. Though the crowds around them continued with their outing, Caroline knew that she had just become the center of attention. “You’re looking lovely this evening, my dear,” the earl said.
The overpowering nature of his presence combined with the heady cologne she could only describe as “eau de sin” made Caroline flush. With every eye in the crowd now scrutinizing them, she must say something sparkling and witty, or at least obstinate. But all she could give was a faint “um” sound.
“Good heavens.” Edmund appeared shocked. “You’ve rendered her quite speechless, my lord.”
“I can already tell that’s quite a feat.” Rockford grinned wickedly. “That’s good for me. I must say, I hate a lot of chatter.”
“Particularly from a woman, you mean?” she asked tartly. His smirk only deepened.
“From anyone. My word, Miss Devereux, you’re feistier than ever, aren’t you?”
“Oh, shush.” Caroline winced, hating to see how pleased Rockford was. He probably wanted to throw her off balance so he could gain control. She must avoid that. “Anyway. You’re rather late, you know.”
“It’s fashionable to be late. And you do wish to be fashionable, Miss Devereux. Do you not?”
He was attempting to bait her; Caroline had to reject all offers of a scuffle between them. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, forcing herself to play the part of a bored debutante being courted by the most eligible gentleman in London. She hoped she was doing a fair job of it.
“Now you’re here, we should head over toward the Cascades,” she said.
“As you wish.”
Edmund discreetly walked a few paces behind, giving the couple a reasonable bit of distance. The plan was already working better than she could have hoped.
Women and gentlemen whispered together as Caroline and the earl passed them by. Unfortunately, Caroline found herself tongue-tied yet again, though this time not because of Rockford’s arrogance or sinful handsomeness.
She hadn’t thought how exposed she would feel, being paraded about in front of an observant society. One of the reasons Caroline liked to hide behind her pen was because it gave her freedom to let herself be, well, herself. Now she had to pretend to be the sort of woman to command a peer’s attention with ease.
Had Rockford considered that sort of discomfort? Perhaps that was why he’d selected such a public venue for their first outing.
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye; he seemed to enjoy drinking in the attention. He probably enjoyed her nervousness even more.
Remember. You need to keep the advantage here.
“After the Cascades, where should you like to go?” Rockford asked.
“One of the dance pavilions. Those are always popular destinations.” She couldn’t help the frisson of warmth that ran through her body when Rockford hooked her arm through his. “Though I’d prefer to stay off my feet.”
“I’m afraid we must take to the floor together,” the earl said. “People are watching, after all. We must give them something to watch.”
…
It wasn’t bloody fair. Gabriel had prepared to be in complete command of himself this evening, but every time the earl saw Miss Devereux, he was taken aback once again by how lovely she was.
Her curled hair was undisturbed tonight, and her face was thoroughly inkless.
Her gray eyes were so wide as to pierce him with their innocence, but the look of shrewd intelligence in them stirred something primal in his blood.
Walking through Vauxhall, her arm through his, Gabriel found he rather wished for a more voluptuous and sinful destination than some pleasure gardens. One night spent with him in the city’s gambling dens or the more risqué clubs, and she’d capitulate into his arms very neatly, forgetting all hint of propriety.
Rubbish . He didn’t want to marry her, nor to have anything to do with her, and that meant she was entirely hands off. Though she was a tempting prospect for pleasure, they both had their roles to play in this marriage farce.
If he were to kiss her or show her that he fancied her in even the smallest way, Caroline would take it as confirmation of their impending nuptials.
Gabriel escorted the Devereux siblings to the Cascades, an artificial waterfall constructed of sliding sheets of tin. He had to admit, it was artful trickery; the thing looked bloody real. Gabriel couldn’t help smiling to see how Caroline herself was taken by it.
Most people tried to pretend boredom to hide their own curiosity about a thing, but Caroline was unabashedly enthusiastic.
“I wonder if some man sits behind the rock and cranks the whole thing by hand,” she said, craning her neck about in an effort to see all she could. “Or does the whole contraption run on its own? Science is the most marvelous business, don’t you think?” She spoke to him with no art, only enthusiasm.
Gabriel studied those lips of hers, parted with breathless excitement. If only she weren’t the enemy; he could imagine kissing her. Now that was excitement that could leave her truly breathless.
“I suppose I don’t think of science at all,” he admitted.
The lady rolled her eyes at him, bold as you please.
“Earls and boxers don’t have to think about how the world works, I suppose.”
“Neither do opinionated gentlewomen.” Gabriel grinned; he did love poking her and watching anger flash in her eyes.
“Perhaps I don’t have to do anything but pay calls and look over the household ledgers, but I like doing other things. I like to keep an open mind.” Caroline glared at him, but Gabriel felt her tremble on his arm as he leaned in and whispered into her ear.
“People are watching, remember? No fighting.” He heard the hitch in her breathing as his lips traced her ear. “You must seem utterly enthralled with me.”
He must make the girl off-kilter. She would be easier to trip up then.
“I’m not enthralled by you.” Caroline seemed almost dizzy as she said it, which suggested she was lying.
“Your body language says otherwise.”
“Stop paying any attention whatsoever to my body! It’s ungentlemanly.” She looked up at him in triumph. “And you did say you want to be a gentleman now, for the sake of your title.”
“Then what would a gentleman do next?”
“Since we’ve finished at the Cascades, you might escort me to a place where we could rest and take some refreshment.”
Gabriel led Caroline and her brother to the Turkish Tent, one of the more informal dining areas in the Vauxhall Gardens.
Beneath the rather ostentatious canopy, parties were arranged on picnic blankets or relaxing on cushions, laughing and chatting while directly outside music played and couples danced.
Though Caroline was clearly attempting to look calm and in control, even she couldn’t help laughing in delight at the pleasing surroundings. When Caroline noticed how excitable she’d become, she muted her own happiness.
“Well. Really smart people can procure a proper supper box,” she muttered. They stopped and the earl handed her to the ground, where she arranged her skirts.
“Indeed?” Gabriel stretched out beside her on their blanket while Edmund kept a solid distance. “You don’t strike me as the sort of girl who cares at all about appearing smart before the ton .”
“Yes, and look how well that’s turned out for me.”
“Seated beside the illustrious Earl of Rockford? Being stared at with envy by half the available ladies present?” Damn it, he was enjoying teasing her. Caroline blushed to the roots of her hair, but it seemed a reaction of pride.
“Indeed. Perhaps I have underestimated my own criminal genius.”
She had a dimple when she smiled. It was appallingly appealing.
“Is this your favorite location at Vauxhall?” he asked.
“I don’t come here enough to truly have a favorite destination, but I do love the place. I’ve always wanted to visit Turkey.” She looked around at the rather gaudy orange silk tent with its thick fringe of golden tassels, and Gabriel couldn’t help it. He scoffed.
“Once you’ve seen the real place, this sort of thing resembles a child’s nursery trifle.”
“Oh? I take it you’ve been to Turkey, then?” She sounded indignant, but also a bit curious.
“My dear, I’ve sailed into more ports than you could name. I’ve sailed out of every one with a story. Sometimes with a bit more than that.”
Caroline leaned down upon a cushion. That lithe gesture of hers was enough to get Gabriel’s blood up. Why did she have to appeal to his appetites in such a primal way?
“I love a good story,” she said. “Tell me one of Turkey.”
Many of his favored tales involved sampling local beauties or escaping a potentially murderous situation through sheer luck and fast thinking. None of those seemed appropriate for the venue or the young lady, so Gabriel mused. Caroline seemed to take that hesitation as a triumph.
“As I suspected. You must be all talk, my lord.”
“In the matter of talking, you’re the expert,” he growled. “Action’s been more my arena.”
“Then dazzle me.”
Sex and fighting were out as topics. Gabriel appreciated Caroline’s figure, constrained as it was by layers of petticoats and the constriction of stays.
“The Turks could teach English men and women a thing or two about how to dress,” he said. “They go about in kaftans, ankle-length robes of the most beautiful design and intricacy. The trade is brisk in Constantinople, and the fabrics come from far away as Venice or China. Their trousers are drawstring and flow very easily about the legs.”
“I take it you’ve dressed in such a manner?” Caroline looked seriously interested.
“Indeed. The clothes are more beautiful, far easier to move in, and much, much better to fight in.” Gabriel thought of Constantinople and he once again saw the slender minarets against the sun, smelled the spices of the marketplace, heard the cry of voices and felt the perfect freedom that had once been his. That world had been so alive, so real. He would never see it again.
“You look so sad.” Caroline sounded surprised.
“As I said. The kaftan and the salvar trousers are easier to fight in, and I’ve done more than my share of fighting.” He looked at the gaudy imitation all around them and felt distinctly moody. “But I liked it because it all was real. Unlike this frippery. Imitations of something no one’s ever been interested enough to try to understand.”
Caroline made a soft sound. “My lord, I rather see what you mean.”
She did, didn’t she? The woman hated falseness as much as he did. In the whole ridiculous place, in a land of fake tents and pretend waterfalls, she alone breathed vibrancy and truth. Gabriel found he wanted to share more with her, something he’d never wished to do with anyone before.
“Even the women go about in such trousers.” He smiled. “They’re not constrained in such petty ways.”
“I should love to see such a place.” She was all sincerity, all eagerness for experience. How unlike most of the people in London, who wanted to get through life having learned as little as possible. Gabriel found he admired this woman. He needed to put a stop to that at once.
“You know, sitting in a supper box at Vauxhall isn’t the best way to stimulate the ton ’s petty whisperings.” Gabriel scanned the surrounding area.
“What would best needle the ton ’s gossip, then?”
Gabriel looked back to the woman he was with and considered.
She was a diamond in the rough who only needed polish and a proper setting in which to sparkle. Devious minx that she was, he knew that she would be capable of turning every head in this tent if given the proper encouragement.
But what he needed right now was for the ton to see her in less than her best light. Gabriel recalled how Miss Devereux had not wanted to dance.
He stood and extended his hand for hers. “A dance. Shall we?”