The Husband List (8 page)

Yet here he was. Jack, too, wore tennis whites, but where the color accented Mrs. Willoughby’s exotic paleness, it made him look more vital than ever. An odd sensation danced through Caroline.

Hunger, maybe?

“No troubles,” she managed to say after focusing solely on Mrs. Willoughby. “Just a slight rearrangement of contents.”

“Good, then,” Jack’s friend replied.

Caroline wasn’t sure what to say next. Rules required that she politely end the conversation. They were not formally acquainted, and Jack wasn’t making the effort. But to his questionable credit, Mrs. Willoughby wasn’t the sort of woman to whom Caroline should be introduced. Which, of course, made the introduction all the more appealing.

She frowned at Jack. The blasted man grinned in return. But if he thought he held the upper hand, he was sorely mistaken. She stood a little straighter.

“My name is Caroline Maxwell,” she said to the other woman. “And I believe you are Mrs. Willoughby?”

Down on the curb, both twins gasped. This time she couldn’t blame them. Caroline was indeed creating that dreaded spectacle, and it was being noted by Mama’s friends in passing carriages.

“Please call me Flora.”

Caroline nodded her assent. “Thank you.”

“Jack and I were just on our way to the Casino. I have decided to take up tennis,” Flora said.

“I’m sure you’ll enjoy it,” Caroline replied. Just as
she
would enjoy the freedom of the other woman’s clothing. While she didn’t want to stare more than she had already, the outfit seemed to involve no corset at all.

“Do you play?”

“Yes, but not this morning,” Caroline said and then laughed. “Which I’m sure you deduced from my morning dress. My sisters and I are going to watch, though.”

“I’ll give you plenty to watch.” Flora paused an instant. “Perhaps you’d like to join me and give me a few words of advice before my lesson?”

She knew she shouldn’t, but she so wanted to.

Jack gave a subtle negative shake of his head, which only cemented her resolve.

“I’d love to,” Caroline said, relishing the look of shock on Jack’s face.

“Lovely,” Flora replied. “Jack, would you help Miss Maxwell in?”

His “of course” clashed with his grim expression.

Caroline turned her attention to her sisters as she took Markham’s assistance and exited her carriage.

“I’ll rejoin you at the Casino,” she said to them.

“Caroline, you cannot do this,” Helen cried as Amelia stammered, “But … But…”

“You’ll be fine,” Caroline said briskly. “Markham knows the way.”

That, of course, had not been the genesis of the twins’ objections, though the reassurance did neatly silence them. By the time she had reached Mrs. Willoughby’s carriage, Jack had exited.

He offered her his hand. She took it and entered the fairytale carriage. Jack held on an instant longer than necessary, giving her fingers a squeeze in what could have been either a greeting or warning.

Caroline would wager it was a warning.

She seated herself opposite Flora. Up close, the woman remained ageless in appearance. Jack sat next to Caroline, near enough that his leg nudged hers. She gave him a slight frown and moved over. The carriage pulled away, and Caroline took an instant to watch her sisters return to theirs.

“I wasn’t quite sure you’d join me,” Flora said as they rolled on.

“She shouldn’t have,” Jack said.

Flora’s perfect eyebrows rose. “When did you become a slave to social dictates?”

“About two minutes ago,” Jack replied.

The older woman laughed.

“You seem to have an odd effect on our Jack,” she said to Caroline.

He was no more Flora’s Jack than Bremerton was her almost duke, but Caroline let this reference slip by.

“Do you reside here in Newport, Mrs. Willoughby?” she asked.

“For a month or so, I am going to. I rented The Reefs from the Miss French. I was in need of a sea change from San Francisco, which was where my late husband and I spent much of our time.”

“Jack told me of your husband’s death. I’m sorry for your loss,” Caroline said.

“And no doubt a little intrigued … or perhaps shocked … that I’m about to play tennis.”

“Not at all,” Caroline fibbed.

“You must learn to meet your opposition’s eyes when dissembling,” Flora said. “Looking down will give you away every time.”

“Don’t give her any help,” Jack said. “She’s dangerous enough already.”

“Really? Dangerous?” Flora asked.

Caroline liked the idea of being seen as a woman with whom to be reckoned.

“Dangerous to herself,” Jack replied.

If she’d had a parasol, Caroline would have stabbed his white leather shoe with its point. As it was, an ostrich plumed hat was of little help.

“So long as he believes that, you retain the upper hand,” Flora said to Caroline. She regarded Jack a little more closely. “Though I think he has his doubts already.”

“Jack is a stubborn man,” Caroline said. “He’s going to believe what he believes, evidence regarding my capabilities to the contrary.”

“I can see why you like her,” Flora said to Jack.

“She’s my best friend’s sister, nothing more,” Jack replied.

“Of course, dear,” Flora said, her blue eyes alight with laughter.

Caroline had to smile, too.

Flora returned her attention to Caroline. “And as for the tennis outing, my Clem made me promise to move on with my life. ‘No widowing-up,’ he said to me. He felt I’d wasted enough of my youth when I married him. He was older than I by a handful of years.”

“Only if that hand has thirty fingers,” Jack muttered.

“He was very youthful,” Flora said sternly.

Caroline watched out of the corner of her eye as Jack shifted uncomfortably.

“My apologies,” he said. “I’m sure he was.”

“Better,” Flora said. “That’s our heroic Jack.”

She looked at Caroline. “You did read about his exploits in the
Mercury
on Tuesday, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Caroline said. She wouldn’t share that she’d also purloined the paper and hidden it in her room.

“I was so proud, but it was no less than I would expect,” Flora said. “But back to my beloved Clem. I am doing as he wanted me to. No widow’s black crepe. No year closed away. In his honor, I’m taking center stage.”

And doing it with enviable flair, Caroline thought.

“So why no tennis for you today, Caroline?” Flora asked.

“My sisters would tell my mother, who does not want me to be perceived by potential husbands as the sporting type. Much as I enjoy tennis, these days I am choosing to save Mama’s censure for better things.”

“Such as?”

“Nothing so dire. Just solitary sunrise walks, museum trips, the occasional shooting practice with my brother, Eddie…”

“And kissing random men,” Jack said. “Let’s not forget that.”

Flora smiled. “Ah, now we have the reason for Jack’s displeasure.”

Even though she could feel the rising heat of embarrassment, Caroline refused to give in to it. Nor would she back down.

“Not so random, Jack. I’ve kissed only you,” she said.

Flora’s laugh was light and musical, drawing disapproving looks from the occupants of the other carriages lined up for entry at the Casino.

“This gets better and better,” she said. “I hope I see more of you here in Newport, Caroline.”

Caroline hesitated. She could learn many things from Flora, but socializing with her was an impossibility.

“Oh, I know I won’t,” Flora said with a wave of her hand. “I’m aware I’m the sort that would make your mama grow all protective.” She gave a slight shake of her head. “And apparently our Jack, too. But it has been a pleasure.”

“Yes, it has,” Caroline agreed as they rolled up in front of the brick building with its gaudily striped awnings. “Your home is at Bancroft Avenue, is it not?” Others might find that a rude question, but Caroline knew Flora would not.

“It is,” she replied, smiling.

“Rosemeade is at Ruggles Avenue. Once my mother, sisters, and I are back in residence, we’ll practically be neighbors.”

“Then there’s every chance that you might one day stroll by. Should you, please stop in. I’m finding the grounds quite inspiring.”

Caroline returned the older woman’s smile. “I would never turn down the opportunity for inspiration.”

Beside her, Jack was growing restless. “You’re going to be late for your lesson, Flora.”

“I am certain my instructor will wait a heartbeat or two,” she replied.

“No doubt.” Nonetheless, he rose and exited the carriage.

He held out his hand. “Caroline?”

When she was back on solid ground, once again he kept her hand. He leaned close and said, “Let me know when you’re feeling random again.”

As she withdrew her hand, her knees wobbled. Perhaps the ground wasn’t so solid, after all.

*   *   *

CHARLES VANDERMEULEN had never won a tennis match against Jack, though this morning he had come close. It wasn’t that Charles had developed any level of skill on the grass court. Jack had simply lost his ability to concentrate. This lack hadn’t come with the dawning realization that the Vandermeulens had followed him to Newport, but with Jack’s acceptance that Flora was right. He had underestimated Caroline Maxwell, a mistake he would not make again.

While Helen and Amelia giggled with their girlfriends, Caroline sat at a small, round courtside table with Harriet. Both had watched Jack, Harriet with maidenly yearning and Caroline as though she were planning her next great adventure. Jack hoped it involved more stolen kisses.

Match done, Charles and he now sat with Caroline and Harriet, all drinking tall glasses of water fancied up with slender lemon slices. Jack downed his and wished for a beer … or three. He remained thirsty and possibly in need of some numbing.

“Papa has promised to build me a home on Fifth Avenue as a wedding gift,” Harriet said to him.

“How nice for you,” Jack replied, hiding a smile at her lack of subtlety about as poorly as Caroline was concealing her restlessness.

She opened the small watch pinned to a bejeweled ribbon at her waist and awkwardly looked down at it. Her build wasn’t nearly flat enough to make that an easy viewing.

“It’s nearing eleven,” he said to her.

She rose. “Then it’s time for my sisters and I to be on our way.”

She glanced where the twins had last been sitting, but the cluster of girls had moved on.

Caroline sighed. “And to think they’re supposed to be watching me.”

Harriet and Charles looked confused, but Jack laughed.

“I’d best go round them up,” Caroline said before giving the Vandermeulens a cheery good-bye and moving on.

Seizing the opportunity, Jack rose, too. After he’d accepted a dinner engagement for tomorrow with Harriet’s family, he jogged up to Caroline.

“Are you always going to bolt from Harriet like a spooked horse?” she asked as he pulled even with her.

“I prefer to think of it as a strategic retreat,” he replied. “Harriet is a sweet girl, if relentless. I don’t want to hurt her feelings, but even if I were entertaining thoughts of marriage, she’s not my type.”

“In what way? She’s rich enough,” Caroline said as they walked into a grove of sturdy elms to the far side of the Casino’s tennis courts.

He’d promised to be honest with her, so honest he’d be. “I can’t imagine her in my bed, night after night and year after year.”

Caroline stopped. “She’s the ideal of all that’s beautiful. I’m not educated regarding lovemaking, but I’m sure you could bear up long enough to create an heir or two.”

Jack shrugged. “It’s not all about beauty. It’s about wanting, too.”

He looked at her more closely. His bluntness hadn’t rattled her. She’d tipped up her head to watch him. Her gaze was level, as was her voice. Harriet would no doubt have collapsed in a heap of ruffles and lace at a conversation such as this.

“If you have that luxury, I suppose,” Caroline said. “As you’ve pointed out to me, I don’t.”

“Luckily, I do,” he replied.

“Am I your type, Jack?”

He hesitated. Honesty was only going to bring heartache.

“No,” he said.

Caroline looked as though she were absorbing a blow.

“And yet you more or less offered to kiss me today,” she pointed out.

“Better me than someone who will take advantage of you,” he replied.

She laughed. “That’s nearly noble of you.”

“Isn’t it?”

She moved a step closer, and he looked around to see if they were being watched. They weren’t.

“But you made that dangerous promise, Jack. Be honest with me. Am I your type?”

“I have my rules,” Jack replied, trying out some of his Da’s sidestepping.

“And what do those rules include?”

“Not destroying my friendship with your brother.”

“I don’t plan to tell Eddie that I kissed you.” She smiled again. “Or that you want to kiss me. And you do, even if you won’t admit it. There’s no other reason you would have said what you did in front of Flora.”

She might be an innocent, but she was no fool.

The sea breeze pushed at the brim of her hat. “So kiss me, Jack.”

The Casino grounds were a dangerous place for such things. Ironically, that made them safe, too. Here, he wouldn’t forget himself. Here, she could have the ideal, chivalric sort of kiss she’d probably summoned in her maiden’s imagination.

Without responding to her request, Jack drew her closer to the trunk of the nearest tree. He used both hands to bring her mouth to the perfect angle for exploration.

“Ready?” he asked.

Her brown eyes were alight and her lips were curved into a slight smile. “I was ready on Saturday at the museum.”

He laughed. “Well, then…”

He brushed his mouth against hers once, then twice, and finally settled in with more intent than he had on Saturday.

Damn, but she felt good. But Jack knew he had to end it before he frightened her.

“More, Jack,” she murmured when he drew back. “There has to be more.”

There was, but her almost duke should be the man to awaken her to that.

“Please,” she added.

Such a simple word, and one he couldn’t fight against.