To Catch a Lady (12 page)

Not wanting to draw attention to herself, Caro continued to pick at her plate. She had to admit, it was quite tasty, even if it had been sitting out awhile.

“Excellent fare,” Ashton said, still looking at his plate. “Far better than what those pale-faced Londoners serve, you know. Mrs. Hughes is the best cook in the county. I was very lucky to engage her.”

“Yes. The cook has done a fine job,” she said. After following her habit of eating only three bites of each serving, she pushed her plate away and sat silent, waiting for him to finish his breakfast.

“Is something wrong?” he asked when he'd cleaned the last from his plate.

“I beg your pardon?”

He took a deep swallow of his tea. “You didn't eat very much. Isn't the meal to your liking?”

“It's very fine, thank you. I just don't have much of an appetite, I suppose.”

“But you've barely eaten anything since we left London. Surely a girl your size must have a more robust appetite.”

Caro nearly died on the spot. What a terrible thing for him to say! “I guess I'm just not used to this country fare.” Anger and shame stirred in her chest.

He nodded. “That must be it. No doubt the food's too rich for your tastes. Not to worry. A few weeks in this fine, fresh air and you'll be eating like a pack of hungry wolves.”

With that he went back to the task of spooning another pile of eggs onto his plate.

Caro swallowed her ire. It would do no good taking him on at the breakfast table. Still, his bad manners would have to be dealt with later.

“Yes, that must be it.”

The silence stretched out between them.

“Are you sure you don't want any of this?” he asked as he scooped the last bit of eggs onto his plate.

“No, thank you.” She watched, remaining silent, while he finished off the last of the food. “I beg your leave, Your Grace. I shall help Cook clear the dishes.”

He sat back and stared at her.

“My lady, you are a duchess. Even I don't expect you to do that. Besides which, Mrs. Hughes would have both our hides if we dared to usurp her responsibilities. She runs roughshod over the lodge and no one gets in her way. Well, no one who has more sense than a goat, anyway.”

“What should I do?”

He shrugged. “Whatever it is that duchesses do, I suppose.”

“What is that?”

Ash crossed his arms. “You know, I'm not sure. Read poetry, do needlework. Play the pianoforte.”

“Since I was abducted from my home, I don't have any of my books with me, including my volume of
A Proper Lady's Book of Poetry.
I'm ashamed to say that the family accounts were rather limited, and since Beatrice had the better chance of landing a titled husband, it was imperative that she be educated in the arts. The only needlework I do is mending stockings, and I've never learned to play any musical instrument.”

“I suppose you could go hunting with me. I'm planning a trip with Higgins and Danby this morning.”

Caro took a breath before speaking, doing her best not to sound sharp. “I don't know much about being a duchess, but I've a suspicion that shooting wild animals is not among the approved activities. Thank you just the same.”

“No doubt it would make the fellows a bit uncomfortable, too. Oh, and while I'm thinking about it, I know it was a bit of a disruption this morning, but after you've been here awhile I'm sure you'll find the men quite endearing.”

“Really.” Caro bit down on another retort and spoke with her jaws clenched. “I apologize, Your Grace, but I don't find anything about those unruly men or this broken-down pile of stones endearing, as you say.”

Her husband drew back, setting his cup gingerly on the saucer. “There's no reason to insult my friends or my home.”

“Your home?”

“This is where I live.”

“I thought your home was in London. At Summerton. Where your aunt is.”

“Oh, that. Summerton is my property, technically, but my aunt occupies it most of the time. It belonged to the duke and my cousin before me, so I've no intention of displacing her.”

“There is room enough to house ten families there.”

“There is. But I don't live there. I live here. I only visit London. I know it seems a bit rough, but if you give it a chance I'm sure you'll get accustomed to it.”

Caro bit down on her anger. “Your Grace, I simply can't live here. My mother needs me, and so does my sister.”

“Once the child is conceived, you can live wherever you like. But I live here,” he said again, his voice firmer.

“You said we'll be returning to London at the end of the month.”

“I did say that you would be returning, yes. That is, assuming you have conceived our child. Then there will be no reason for you to stay here.”

“You can't be serious!” Furious, Caro jumped to her feet, bumping the table and setting the dishes to clattering.

“What's wrong? It's in the contract, after all.”

“Overnight I've been torn from my nice, ordered life and tossed into the mix of unruly beasts and males who don't even respect the sanctity of a lady's bedroom. And you act as if this pile of stone was actually of any value!”

Ash stood up. “I beg your pardon, madam. This building has stood strong through centuries. Why, the British Navy is built largely from the lumber from the woods west of here. And the deer are the most valued game in the country. You will watch your tone when you speak of Slyddon.”

“Watch my tone? This is a terrible place and you are a terrible man. I refuse to put up with one more minute of it. I insist you send me back to London immediately.”

“I will do nothing of the sort. We have a contract, madam, and you will honor your part of it. This is my home and you will stay with me. When you have conceived, I will send you back to London, and not a moment sooner. Deliver me a healthy child and you may live wherever you please.”

Unable to stand any more, and fighting the urge to hurl the china into his face, she chose to turn and leave him. “You misunderstand me, Your Grace. I'm not honoring any contract. I was tricked into it and forced against my will.”

“How do you figure that? I saved your reputation, if you remember.”

“I remember, Your Grace. If it weren't for Beatrice, I would never have allowed this farce of a marriage to take place.”

“Ah, yes. You were so busy fretting about your sister's prospects that you nearly tossed it all aside for a few moments of pleasure. I simply did what I could to make things right.”

“It was you who caused all this mess to begin with!” Caro barely shrieked.

“And I saved both you and your reputation.”

“Then you've done me no service, because I'd rather be dead than married to the likes of you!”

With that, Caro fled the room, slamming the door shut behind her. Hot, angry tears sprang from her eyes. She was as upset with herself as with him, and she cursed at a fate that would have her joined with that man. Stopping in front of his bedroom, she took two steps into the room and decided that though she might be stuck at his castle, or lodge, she didn't have to share his bed. Gathering her things, she moved into the bedroom across the hall. Once inside, she turned the lock and then pulled the desk in front of it.

Not until she was alone did Caro give in to her emotions. Sobbing, she leaned against the wall beside the door and slid down to sit on the floor. Arms wrapped around her knees, she gave in to her misery. How could her life get any worse?

“Can you believe the audacity of that woman?” Ash asked when his friend Duncan appeared at the door.

“You're lucky she didn't gut you with the bread knife.” The younger man surveyed the empty sideboard.

“I don't understand why she's so unreasonable. If I were to move into a new home, I'd want to fit in as quickly as possible.”

Duncan laughed. “You are hopeless, Ash. You know nothing of women.”

“And you do? If I recall correctly, you've spent these last months running away from them.”

“True enough. Still, for all my reluctance, I do know a thing or two about them.”

Ash laughed. “So you say. Then, tell me, my friend. How exactly is a rational man to deal with such an irrational creature?”

“You do what makes them happy. Women need attention from their men.”

“I dare say no other man has given her the attention I have. I followed her from the ballroom. I alone saw how beautiful and intriguing she was. I chose her above a bevy of eligible woman to be my wife. Then, after the wedding, I whisked her away from the social whirl and brought her here.”

“And single-handedly ripped her from her life, away from her family and all that she knew. Not only that, now she has lost all privacy and has no single item in the house that she can call her own.”

Ash sat down as if he'd been struck. “Have I really done all that? No wonder she thinks me a beast.”

Duncan sighed. “I'll warrant that you are no worse than any man alive. So, I wouldn't berate myself too much if I were you.”

Ash paused for a moment. “What can I do?”

Duncan shrugged. “I wish I knew, old man.”

“No wonder she hates me.”

“I wouldn't say she hates you, exactly, but for the moment at least, she dislikes you a great deal. The good news, my friend, is that women have a great capacity to forgive even thoughtless fools like you and I.”

Ash started to rise from his chair.

“Where are you going?” Duncan asked.

“I'm going to explain things to her—”

“That's a terrible idea.”

“It is? Why?”

“Because words are no measure for this kind of situation. You need to do something more.”

“More than explaining myself? What could I possibly do?”

Duncan took a breath. “Think about it, my friend. What is it about this arrangement that is different from every other marriage?”

Ash considered his words. “Well, it lacks any true affection. But then again, marriages aren't always love matches.”

“No, even in most arranged marriages, there usually is a period of courtship.”

“A courtship? You mean I should woo her, like bringing her flowers and such?”

“Why not?”

“For one thing, I'm not the ‘wooing' sort. I do far better dressing a deer than I ever could by reading love poetry to a woman. I detest poetry.”

“That's where you're most fortunate, like those of us who are inept when it comes to matters of the heart. Women aren't particularly interested in how well we can read poetry, but rather in the fact that we care enough to try.”

“I suppose I should do something to gain her favor, then.”

Duncan laughed. “That would be a grand idea.”

Ash walked to the door, but before leaving, he turned back one more time. “Don't misunderstand, Duncan. I do enjoy her company. I find her quick-minded and her company most interesting. It is my hope that we do at least become friends.”

“No falling under the heel of love for you, eh?”

“I won't repeat the mistakes of my parents. I can't.”

Her tears spent, Caro sat, feeling as trapped as a rabbit in a snare. What the devil was she going to do now? She couldn't run away from her responsibilities, and even if she could, where would she go?

No. She needed to reason this out. And since there was no honorable way to change her situation, there really was only one thing to do.

She had to change her husband.

The coarse, irritating buffoon that she'd married must somehow be molded into a perfect man.

In short, the duke needed to learn respect for women, to be sympathetic to women's causes, and to understand what was needed to elevate her gender to the same status as men.

A monumental job, no doubt. But change him she must, if she was ever going to make peace with her married state.

An insurmountable task, though. How was she ever to accomplish it?

That was when her answer became apparent by someone's tapping at the bedroom door.

“Yes?” Caro quickly dabbed at her eyes.

“I'm sorry, Your Grace, I didn't realize you'd already arrived. I was in town gathering supplies for the housekeeper, Mrs. Hardesty. My name is Meggie Donovan. I'm your new lady's maid.”

Caro rose from her seat, pulled the desk from in front of the door, and unlocked it. “Please, come in.”

Once the way was clear, the door creaked open and a timid young woman poked her head into the room. Dark hair pulled back into a tight bun, dressed in a crisp black gown with a bleached white apron, she was the picture of a proper lady's maid.

Exactly what Caro needed. A fresh, young mind to set on the path to help improve the female condition.

Meggie gripped her skirts and curtsied. “I've come to help you unpack, um, that is, if you'd allow it.”

Caro smiled. “Yes, please. Not only that, I'd welcome some company.”

The girl stood still for a moment, then turned back to Caro.

“Um, Your Grace?”

“Yes?”

“So you wish me to put your things in the duke's room?”

Caro drew in a breath. “I prefer this room.”

Clearly, the girl was shocked at Caro's tone. “Oh. It's a very nice room, indeed.” By her expression, she was curious why the duke's new wife wasn't sharing his room, or his bed. “The dowager duchess stays here when she visits, which isn't very often.”

“I can understand why she doesn't. It's very far from London.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Turning around, Caro surveyed the room. White lace curtains adorned the windows; the walls were painted a soft pink, with rose petals gracing the trim; and the bed, while not small, clearly was more than large enough for a woman.

“It has a more feminine feel to it. You may proceed,” Caro told her maid.

That settled it. At least she would have her own place. Perhaps other than the nights when they must spend their time together, she could stay here and, for most of the day, at least, pretend she wasn't so very far away from her true home.

“So,” she began, while the girl started pulling out her clothing, brushing each garment with care, and then hanging it in the armoire, “tell me about yourself…”

It was early afternoon when Meggie finished unpacking Caro's bags. After spending a pleasant time sharing stories and listening to gossip about the locals, Caro had relaxed a bit. She was very grateful to her new maid, as she had tried very hard to make Caro feel at home. Unfortunately, their conversation made Caro miss her own family all the more.

“Perhaps your mother and sister can come for a visit soon?” Meggie asked while she was brushing Caro's unruly mane.

“Oh, no. My mother isn't well and the trip would not do for her at all. Not only that, my sister needs to stay near her since I cannot. My hope is that His Grace will keep his word and take me back to London at the end of the month.”

“I hope so, ma'am. And, if he were inclined to take a few servants, I would be thrilled to join you on the journey.”

“What a wonderful idea,” Caro said, smiling at her maid in the looking glass. “London is a wonderful place. So much to see, the architecture, the theater. And, of course, there are the ladies' meetings…”

Meggie stopped, brush in mid-stroke. “What are those? Garden parties? It must be exciting to be among so many titled ladies discussing fashion or music.”

“Oh, nothing so proper as that. No, these ladies' meetings are to discuss more important things.”

“More important, Your Grace? What can be more important to a lady than her clothes or the arts?”

That was when Caro knew she'd had her. Motioning for the maid to take a seat beside her on the bench, Caro grasped her hands.

“A very many things, Meggie. How women are treated by the government, for one. We are no more than property, with no voice about how we live our lives. Men have no more consideration for their wives and daughters than they do their horses or dogs. Deplorable is what it is.”

Meggie cringed. “I don't know, Your Grace. I mean, I don't think I could possibly worry about such things. It's all I can do to see to my duties.”

“You would think that, yes. But you're wrong. You're a very brave and intelligent young woman. You should have a say in how you live your life. You should be able to study, to travel, and to have governance over your own body.”

The girl took a breath. “I wouldn't know what to do.”

“Perhaps not now, but you could learn. Once you have the same education as a man…” she began.

Meggie giggled. “Oh, Your Grace! The things you say.”

Caro could see that it was going to take quite a bit of convincing where the young girl was concerned. What she needed was a woman grown. One who would understand more about life and who had suffered mistreatment by the men in her life.

After the maid left her, Caro turned to the looking glass once again. Her hair was tended and she'd dressed for dinner; she felt almost herself again. Of course, she'd been forced to go through no small number of personal sacrifices. No more dull brown gowns—thanks to Ash's aunt, she now had the beginnings of a proper lady's wardrobe. Silk chemises, fine bone corsets, lace stockings, no fewer than a dozen pairs of gloves, numerous hats, and three winter wraps. Tonight she wore a pale blue gown trimmed at the neck and sleeves with emerald ribbons, and a dainty embroidered lace wrapped about her waist.

She certainly looked more like a duchess than she had in her bland, brown traveling dress. The lambskin slippers and silk chemise made her feel a bit frivolous. After all, her leather shoes, while much repaired and well worn, had served her well. But they had been left in London.

But it wasn't really her dress or her shoes that weighed heavy in her thoughts.

Was she changing?

True, it had been a short time, but the thought of having a maid, of not helping the cook to clear the dishes, and of spending days reading poetry and not tending to the duties of caring for her sister and her mother made her feel odd. Empty, even.

What would become of her?

No. She stamped her foot. She would be the same. Sure, she no longer would be expected to clean or dust, to mend stockings, or even oversee the preparation of meals. She would read more; she would take up lessons, perhaps in Latin or some obscure language. And, more than anything, she would continue keeping the plight of her gender in her thoughts.

Before going to meet Caroline for dinner, Ash made his way to the library. Once there, he inhaled the thick odor of old leather. It was clear by the condition of things that no one had ventured into the room lately.

Examining the tomes that lined the dusty shelves, he ran his finger along the row of spines. Leaning closer, he scrutinized the titles resting there. He sighed. There was nothing new or romantic to be found. Certainly there were no books of poetry. He saw maps and journals, mostly.

Ash sighed. No poetry, then. Since he was not inclined to invent any on his own, it was clear he needed a new plan.

Thoughtfully, he walked to the window and threw open the shutters. As he always did when something troubled him, he gazed out into the quiet evening. The colors he saw were brilliant, the setting sun sparkling on the evening dew. He inhaled the fresh, clean air and let it help to clear his mind.

How could she not fall in love with this place?

To be fair, she'd only been at Slyddon Castle less than a day. There hadn't been time to show her the grounds. After all, it wasn't her fault that she'd been forced to live in the city. She simply needed to be shown what a beautiful place the forest was.

And, having never been married, or even had a man in her family, how could she know what he demanded in a wife?

Of course she wouldn't. Therefore, it would be up to him to teach her to be what he needed in a wife.

“I simply must change her into the perfect mate. Of course, she'll surely never want to leave me or Slyddon, once she knows what's expected of her.”

“This is the most uninhabitable wreck I've ever seen,” Caro said. She'd ventured out of her room far enough to get lost in Slyddon's long and winding halls. The high gray walls were adorned with hideous paintings of men on the hunt. On the west wall hung a mural of a wild boar lying on the ground, a sword embedded to the hilt in its side and blood gushing out of the wound. Four hunters stood joyous over their prey, arm in arm and holding up their weapons in celebration.

Across the room was yet another painting, this one of a deer being chased by hunters of another century, King Henry I leading them. Between them hung several large trophies of deer and boar heads. On the east side of the room, a long table displayed various stuffed animals, including foxes and wild ducks, and even a hound curled in eternal sleep.

“Ugh. Men.” Caro sighed. “What I wouldn't give to see a painting of a vase of roses.”

“Your Grace?” It was Meggie's voice. “At last I found you.”

“Thank heavens.” Caro breathed a sigh of relief. “I was afraid I might never find the main dining room again. I believe I made a wrong turn somewhere. I had no trouble finding it this morning.”

“Right this way, Your Grace. I shall take you directly. The duke thought you might need assistance.”