Secret Heiress (3 page)

Caroline's first view of Woburn Square was as the sun was setting.

“Oh, how lovely it is!” she exclaimed. “Do look, Amelia. There is a garden and trees; it does not seem as if we are in the city at all. But the houses are all of stone—and so alike—so different from the timber we are accustomed to in Lancashire. I cannot wait to explore London!”

“Yes, indeed, my love,” said Aurelia. “We must engage a respectable guide who will take us on a tour of the more interesting parts of the metropolis. We need not even leave the comfort of our carriage.”

Caroline smiled but did not reply. She was already stepping out of the carriage with the help of a footman. At the door she was met by a tall, rather imposing man.

“Miss Chessington?” he asked with a bow.

“Yes, I am Caroline Chessington.”

“I am Briggs, butler to Mr. and Mrs. Hardy. I am pleased to be of service to you during your stay in Woburn Square.”

“Thank you, Briggs.” She introduced Aurelia and went inside.

Woburn Square, one of the streets in close proximity to Russell Square, the largest square in London, was an area of newly built houses, too new to be either of historical interest or fashionable. It seemed, at first glance, to be more elegant than Caroline had expected or desired. The house she had rented was a comfortable stone dwelling built in the current style made fashionable by John Nash: light and airy, with perfectly proportioned rooms. Mr. and Mrs. Hardy had furnished it with simplicity and taste in the newly popular Regency style. Everything about it seemed new. It was so different from Brampton, where almost everything was centuries old and different styles mixed happily together in a cluttered, comfortable way. Caroline was struck by the almost modest size and style of the furniture in comparison with the massive, heavily carved pieces at Brampton. She did not, however, inspect the entire house, because she was tired from the journey. After an early dinner, she retired, promising herself to arise early the next day.

Caroline awakened the next morning eager to begin her explorations. Sarah brought her morning chocolate and pulled back the curtains.

“It's a pretty day. Miss Caroline,” she said. “Did you sleep well?”

“Splendidly!” said Caroline. “Sarah, has my cousin come downstairs yet?”

Knowing what prompted the inquiry, Sarah averted her gaze and said, “No, miss. Miss Peakirk has not yet awakened. I believe she was quite tired from the journey.”

“Ah,” said Caroline, “then perhaps I should not dawdle in bed, but dress and be on my way. I shall wear the brown wool walking dress with the matching coat,”

“Very good, Miss Caroline,” was all Sarah replied, but she was pleased that her mistress intended to escape before her cousin awakened. “Always fussing and bothering Miss Caroline as if she were her mother and not a poor relation as depends on Miss Caroline's generosity,” Sarah had told her sister once when she'd visited her on her half-day.

Caroline had provided herself with a guidebook and had marked several places that she most wanted to see. When she was served in the breakfast parlor, she asked Briggs about the best way to get to the British Museum and St. Paul's.

“For you know, Briggs, this is my first trip to London and I wish to see all the places of interest.”

Briggs smiled in a fatherly way, for Caroline had charmed him, as she invariably did all servants.

“The British Museum is nearby, miss, but I would suggest that you take the carriage, all the same,” said Briggs. “If you wish, I shall have it sent round.”

“Oh, thank you, Briggs,” said Caroline, “but I am accustomed to walking. I am a country girl, you know.”

“But miss . . .”

“Yes, Briggs?”

“As you are new to London, I hope you won't take it amiss if I warn you to be on your guard. There are many out there who'd be happy to take advantage of your tender age.”

“You needn't worry, Briggs. I'll be careful.” (Oh, Lord, she thought. I've traded Cousin Aurelia for Briggs!)

After Caroline had finished her breakfast she picked up her reticule and her guidebook and set out to see London. It was a glorious spring day and there were so many places she wanted to see: the Tower, with its seven hundred years of history, starting with the Conqueror; Westminster Abbey; St. Paul's and its famous Whispering Gallery; the new gaslights in Pall Mall; the British Museum with the famed Elgin Marbles; Bond Street; St. James's were all a jumble in her mind. In true Caroline fashion, however, she was off to the British Museum first. The stories about the Elgin Marbles had piqued her curiosity and she wanted to see what had excited so much comment. After that, she would go to St. Paul's in the middle of the city.

Feeling just a bit guilty at having left Aurelia behind, but savoring her freedom, Caroline walked toward the Museum, gazing about her as she went. There were so many carriages and people about. So many houses, too, in such a small space. No one had any land. Despite the greenery of the square, Caroline thought she would miss the country if she had to stay in London permanently.

After a short walk, Caroline saw the outlines of the Museum in Great Russell Street. She was anxious to see the Egyptian antiquities as well as the Elgin Marbles. The latter had recently been acquired by the nation from Lord Elgin, who had brought them back from the Parthenon when he was British Ambassador to Turkey.

Caroline found the room with the marbles and discovered them to be a collection of bas-reliefs, a frieze, and some statuary from the Parthenon which dealt with the goddess Minerva. She stood there looking at them, somewhat nonplussed.

“Not quite what you expected?” asked a quiet voice from behind. She turned around. The speaker, a gentleman of some thirty years, was tall and quite thin. He was dressed in a coat of super-fine navy wool which seemed a bit large, and doe-colored trousers. His shirt was of the finest linen; his collar points and cravat were neat yet fashionable. In his hands he carried a beaver hat and a gold-handled ebony cane. While he was by no means a Dandy, there was a quiet elegance about his person. Caroline liked what she saw.

“Well,” she said doubtfully, “I am certain they are of great worth, and their antiquity must make them of interest to us.”

“But you expected them to have all their arms?” said the man, with a smile.

“They are a bit of a disappointment,” replied Caroline, returning the smile. “But indeed, London is not! There is so much to see, I am certain I could not see it all if I stayed a year!”

“You are a visitor to London, then?” asked the gentleman.

“Yes, I am here for a few months. But though I may not be from London, I do know that it is not at all the thing for me to be speaking to you when we have not been properly introduced.”

The gentleman looked around the room. “There is no one here with whom I am acquainted,” he said. “I shall be obliged to introduce myself. I am Giles Kendal. I am on Lord Walsingham's staff and have recently come from the Continent, where I was foolish enough to contract a most annoying illness. I am finding my convalescence a dead bore, and am reduced to visiting museums for excitement. I should very much like to present myself to you, but unfortunately, I do not know your name.”

Caroline laughed. “I am Caroline Chessington,” she said. “My story is not as interesting as yours. I live in Lan—in the North, and have come to London for my first visit, accompanied by the elderly cousin with whom I live.”

“And whose chaperonage you have managed to escape today?”

“Oh, no,” said Caroline. “I am quite accustomed to being on my own. As you can see, I am no longer a schoolgirl, Mr. Kendal.”

“But hardly in your dotage,” he retorted.

Realizing that the conversation, although extremely enjoyable, was most improper, Caroline strove to return to a safe topic.

“How indebted England is to Lord Elgin for having purchased these treasures,” she said.

“As to that,” said Mr. Kendal, obediently following her lead, “there is some debate. Lord Elgin spent fifty thousand pounds of his own fortune on the marbles, and the Government has been obliged to spend another thirty-six thousand pounds to purchase them for the Museum. Some people, vulgarians, no doubt, have questioned such an expense for inanimate objects.”

“Especially ones with no arms!” said Caroline.

“Indeed, Miss Chessington, you understand the situation completely.”

“I think,” said Caroline, “that it is time I returned home. My cousin will be anxious about me, especially as I contrived to leave this morning before she had awakened.”

“So you did escape,” said Giles teasingly.

“Not at all,” said Caroline. “Well, perhaps there is a little truth there. Chaperones can be quite tiresome.”

“I hope, Miss Chessington, that I shall have the pleasure of making this tiresome chaperone's acquaintance. May I call on you?” As she hesitated, he added, “It would be a great kindness to me if you would permit me to show you London. You cannot imagine how dull it has been for me!”

“In that case, how can I refuse?” said Caroline. “We shall look forward to seeing you.”

As they left the Museum, Giles looked around for Caroline's conveyance. “Have you no carriage?” he asked.

“Oh, no,” said Caroline. “On such a lovely day, I would much prefer to walk. And it is not far.”

“May I have the pleasure of seeing you home?” asked Giles.

“Thank you, Mr. Kendal,” answered Caroline, looking at her fob. “Oh, dear, it is later than I thought, and I am expected home for luncheon. It is not at all necessary for you to see me home,” she added.

“Not necessary, but it would give me a great deal of pleasure,” answered Giles.

“In that case I will not protest, but instead will ask if you would like to join my cousin and me for lunch.”

“Thank you, but I cannot. I, too, am expected home for luncheon.”

“Then perhaps we should leave before our relations decide we have been spirited away.”

Giles laughed. As they walked, Caroline mentioned some of the other sights she planned to see. In a short time, they were in Woburn Square. Giles again asked permission to call and made his bow.

As she took off her hat and gloves, Caroline reflected agreeably on the man she had met. He was quite charming, she thought. His manner, although sportive, did not pass the bounds of good breeding. He certainly was much more interesting than the gentlemen who had previously come her way, chosen for her by Lady Skipton or other matchmaking mamas. And he was rather attractive, although his illness had obviously left him a trifle pale and thin. It would be nice to see him again. She hoped he would call.

Giles, for his part, was also pleased with his new acquaintance. It was not yet the Season, and London was damnably dull. He was still not permitted to ride, and while he hated his invalidish role, he was forced to admit that he tired easily. It would be pleasant to have someone with whom to pass the long days before he could rejoin Lord Walsingham. Miss Chessington was not a beauty, but neither was she an antidote. She was obviously well bred and possessed a sense of humor, which wasn't easy to find these days. Yes, Miss Chessington seemed to be a perfectly unexceptionable young woman. A mild flirtation would do him good.

When Caroline entered the dining room, she found Aurelia already in a state over her absence.

“I was most distressed, my love, to discover that you had gone out unattended. In a strange city! Only consider how improper it must appear.”

“To whom, Aurelia? No one knows who I am.”

“Exactly, my love. And until you have established yourself, you would not wish to give the impression that you are not well bred, or that you are fast. It is not the same in London as it is at Brampton. You must be more careful.”

“Aurelia, please recollect that I do not mean to establish myself, as you put it. In any event, you will be pleased to know that I have already made an acquaintance in London. It is a gentleman and he has asked permission to call.”

“A gentleman!” remonstrated Aurelia. “Surely, Caroline, you have not been speaking to a man to whom you have not been properly introduced!”

“Indeed, Aurelia,” said Caroline wearily, “if I am not to speak to anyone until I am introduced, how am I to meet anyone? Mr. Kendal seemed perfectly respectable: he is attached to Lord Walsingham's staff and is on convalescent leave. He intends to call on you and introduce himself, which I am persuaded he would not do if he had evil designs on my person.”

“Caroline, pray tell me that you did not speak to a strange gentleman in that funning way you have. He would not understand that you have such an odd way of expressing yourself. Did you say that he is attached to Lord Walsingham? That seems quite unexceptionable. I wonder if he is related to Lord Kimborough; for you must know that their family name is Kendal.”

“No, I didn't know that.”

“The Kimboroughs are of the best ton. Lord Kimborough is an earl, and Lady Kimborough was a Halland, daughter of the Earl of Malton.”

“Good God, Aurelia, you seem to have made a study of them!” exclaimed Caroline.

“I have always kept abreast of the peerage,” said Aurelia with a sniff. “One never knows when such information may prove useful. You see it has, for you have already made the acquaintance of one of the family. Of course, it must have been the younger son if he introduced himself as Mr. Kendal. A pity, my love, for the Kimboroughs are not very wealthy, and a younger son, without a title . . .”

“How you do go on, Aurelia,” said Caroline. “We do not even know if Mr. Kendal is of the same family. It is not an uncommon name. As we have just met, I think it is premature to be counting his fortune. As for a tide, I have told you that I am not on the lookout for a title. Perhaps Mr. Kendal will not even call on us. If he knew how you were plotting, I am very certain he would not!”