Kaleidoscope: A Regency Novella (14 page)

“Don’t mind the footmen, dear,” he said. “I suspect everyone below stairs knows of my bedroom visits.”

“Luke, stop!” She stood, her face appearing above the centerpiece like Venus rising from the waves. The closest footman made a grab for her chair, which was evidently in danger of toppling over. Her face neared the color of her dress. Luke realized she was more angry than embarrassed. But he also noticed he was now Luke rather than Lord Lucien.

“Why not ask the audience to leave? Then we can conclude our business in private and get on with enjoying what has every indication of being an excellent meal.” Luke held his breath to see if she would follow his suggestion.

Caro looked at the attendant footmen. “Please leave,” she said, to his relief. “I’ll ring for the next course.”

She sat down again, once more disappearing behind the blooms. This would certainly not do. He picked up his plate, silverware, and wine glass and strolled the length of the table to take the place to Caro’s right.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He noticed the defiant jut of her jaw. Yes, she was definitely acting queenly tonight.

“I’m getting close enough for a conversation and didn’t want to let this excellent fish get cold.” As if to prove his point, he took a bite. When she continued to sit and stare at him, he took a slow sip of wine, his eyes never leaving hers.

It was obvious that she was not going to speak and make it easy for him. Luke wasn’t sure how to begin. She had every right to be angry. His behavior had been reprehensible. He knew he’d disappeared with no explanation, but how could he explain he couldn’t see her while he’d felt he had a hole in his soul.

It was one thing to have your family falsely accuse you of wrongdoing. It was quite something else to discover someone in your family had set you up to take the blame for his own failings. He’d found the knowledge corrosive and had feared she wouldn’t like the empty person he’d momentarily become.

He’d tried to hide in a bottle. He’d spent two days nearly insensate with drink as he wallowed in self-pity in his rented rooms. Then his eldest half-brother Templeton had arrived like Galahad on a white steed. Templeton, the biggest self-righteous prig he knew, squinting at Luke’s unshaven face and demanding he pull himself together.

Had it been anyone other than Temp, he might have laughed in his face and continued on his destructive spiral. But too often in his life, Templeton had looked down his nose and found Luke wanting. So Luke had stiffened his spine and met his oldest sibling with anger. Somehow, in the loud and boisterous argument that followed, Temp had convinced him to let their father try to make amends. Temp made it sound as if Luke would be giving their father the gift of forgiveness, rather than their father giving Luke anything.

Who would have thought Temp could be so persuasive? Luke ended up cleaned and shaved and on his way to Greyling Hall, the family countryseat in Surrey, before he’d had time to think through his actions.

Perhaps Luke had enjoyed his father’s groveling. Perhaps he felt that some reward was his due. He didn’t think his actions showed much character, but the results were oh, so sweet. He was about to get everything he wanted from life—if only Caro would agree.

He took her hand. At first it was hard, wooden. But as he stroked his thumb softly across her knuckles, it relaxed. Now if he could find his own persuasive words to turn his possibilities into realities.

 
  

Caro could have held firm to her detached demeanor if Luke hadn’t taken her hand and played his thumb along her knuckles. The sensation was so familiar and soothing, the flimsy wall she’d built around her heart weakened and eventually crumbled. His tale was equal parts fascinating and horrifying. She empathized with his hurt and anger at his betrayal by his half-brother David. She could understand how he could hold all of his family equally culpable. And she applauded his reaching a rapprochement with his father.

She was less understanding of his apparent desertion. But she had little experience with true despair. Sadness. Loneliness. Yes, she knew those well. She’d never felt the bleak nothingness that Luke described, however, and couldn’t imagine how debilitating this could be. The pride that kept him from showing her what to him was ugliness—this she could comprehend.

But she had a sinking feeling that Luke had wanted to explain these things to her in person because they heralded the end of their affair. Deep inside, even if she refused to acknowledge it, she’d known he was too honorable and fair to leave without a word. This, she feared, was her notice.

“I initially resisted taking the money and the estate,” Luke said. “I didn’t want to feel like my complicity had been purchased. But my father and Temp convinced me that the cash and land were of no more value than the gems guaranteed to me through my mother’s marriage settlement.” He squeezed her hand and grinned like a boy. “So, you see before you a man of property.”

“I’m delighted for you, Luke.” She truly was, even if she did have to force the words out through a tight throat. She knew how much he hated lacking funds. And a country estate of his own was a long held dream he’d finally realized.

“The property is called Thorneby Hall. It’s nothing palatial, just a manor house, but it’s in good repair and the attached acreage is lush. Wonderful pasturage. Perfect for horses. And best of all, it’s just a few hours from London. It will be easy to get back and forth on weekends and the like.”

She could tell he wanted her to join his enthusiasm, but that was impossible. In her mind’s eye, she could see Luke proudly riding over his new property, accompanied by some perfect, blond English rose. Bile filled her throat. She attempted a smile, but suspected it was more of a grimace.

Luke suddenly looked as unsettled as she felt. “Of course, some people will continue to believe I was involved with Lady Belinda. I’m sorry if that will make you feel uncomfortable. My family will put the word out that new evidence has come to light that exonerates me, but I can’t point the finger at David. None of us can. Involving him in my old scandal, no matter how deserved, would simply further blacken the family name—and involve his wife Patience, who has had enough to contend with over the years. She shouldn’t suffer for his misdeeds.”

“So David won’t be held accountable for his theft or for destroying your name?” The words came out louder than she’d expected, but the injustice of the situation rankled. Caro didn’t know David Harlington, but if they were ever to meet, she was quite sure she could denounce him for the thief and liar that he was. Luke deserved to have his name fully cleared.

Luke shook his head. “David isn’t escaping penalty. It’s just being handled within the family. He’s been exiled to a family holding in Northern Scotland. It recently came to us through my grandfather’s sister, and while we have a competent manager, no one goes there. It is a singularly bleak and lonely place, isolated from any type of society. Nothing but moors, wind and sheep. Father’s pronouncement is that David can stay there until he rots. I suspect he’ll eventually be allowed back, but I doubt that will happen any time soon.”

Luke reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a large jewelry box and two folded papers, and laid them on the table. “David did return the one gem that he had not sold, which he’d had made into a quite spectacular necklace. It’s the only thing I have of my mother’s, and I want it to belong to my wife. I haven’t changed my mind, Caro. I love you and I want you to be that wife.”

She’d braced herself for goodbye. She’d been preparing herself for his departure with every word, telling herself that this was how it must be and that it was good they could part amicably. Luke had caught her completely unprepared. The wild joy that leaped up left her speechless. When she said nothing, he pushed the box and the papers toward her.

“Before you reject my suit, please look this over.” He tapped his finger on the papers. “It’s a proposed marriage settlement. It confirms that Rydell Shipping will always be your sole possession. You can run the company as you see fit. You can sell it or will it to whomever you choose. I’ll have nothing to do with your company. I don’t want you to think that I would ever take it from you.”

Oddly, the idea of losing control of Rydell Shipping had never entered her mind. Why this logical conclusion had escaped her was unclear. When a woman married, everything that was hers automatically became her husband’s unless other dispositions of property were explicitly spelled out in the marriage settlement. But for some reason, she had never feared that Luke would ever take what was hers.

He gave her a hopeful smile. “Of course, I hope you’d allow me to help you wherever possible. I must admit that I enjoyed the research on the sale of Madeira and I’d like to continue in a similar capacity. But the control will always be yours.”

She didn’t have to look at the papers to know that this was exactly what they said. Luke wanted her for herself alone. This realization bubbled through her like fast moving water over a shoal of rocks, frothing and shooting tendrils of delight into the air. Even Charles had married her to protect her, not because he wanted her above all others.

But she would not hurt Luke—and she felt that marriage to her might do so. “Luke, you’ve just been given the opportunity to redeem most of your former life. You should find a lady from your own class to love, to marry. You don’t want to be stuck with a wife who is in trade. You don’t want people snickering behind your back that you married a woman of questionable antecedents.” Lord, the words were hard to say, but she needed to make him understand that regardless of their feelings for each other, she was unsuitable. She didn’t want him to become a figure of ridicule.

He leaned forward and lowered his voice, as if conveying a secret. “Caro, I’ll be marrying the Earl of Kelton’s aunt by marriage, a lady to her fingertips, and a stunningly beautiful one at that. I’ll be the envy of the ton. Your worries are groundless.”

“I’m sure the Earl of Kelton will give me his ringing endorsement.” She knew how hateful Charles’ nephew could be.

Luke grinned with boyish delight again. “Actually, I think you’ll find that your nephew-in-law will be offering to provide a wedding breakfast to show his support.”

She didn’t know whether to laugh or cuff him. “That will never happen.”

“The wedding breakfast was my half-brother Templeton’s idea. My father will be visiting Kelton tomorrow to suggest it—and believe me, Gerald Rydell doesn’t stand of chance of gainsaying the Marquess of Greyling. Not unless he wants both himself and his mother frozen out of society. My father has spent a lifetime consolidating power and prestige. Kelton will not stand against him.” Luke sounded confident of the outcome.

“Why would your father do this for me?” Shock raised her voice to a higher register. Such behavior by a marquess seemed impossible. The man had never met her. He was only taking Luke’s word that she would be a worthy addition to the family.

He picked up her hand and began to place nibbling kisses on her palm. Heat radiated from the touch of his lips down to her toes, and all points in-between. “I told him that you were my happiness. That I couldn’t imagine a satisfying life without you. In short, I told him the truth. So if you don’t say yes, I’ll be forever unhappy and will look like an idiot to my entire family as I sink again into despair.”

The glint in his eyes was far from despairing. He looked at her with both hunger and love. How could she say anything but yes—and so she did.

 
  

The minute “yes” fell from Caro’s lips, Luke jumped up with a whoop, grabbed her from the chair, and began whirling her around the room. God, how he loved this woman. They made two complete twirling circuits of the table, laughing like children who had found hidden candy. They finally stopped by the sideboard, both gasping for breath.

“Need I say you have made me the happiest of men?” His words came out in staccato bursts.

“I know you’ve made me the happiest of women.” Caro punctuated her comment by wrapping her hands around his nape and pulling his head down to hers. Her lips seemed to taste of laughter and happiness. He pulled her tightly against him. He relished the feel of her, a combination of strength and suppleness, like the steel used in the finest blades.