No Regrets (23 page)

   He sighed. "Davis, I suggest you pack and leave."

   Over Aggie's head, James gave a slight nod of approval.

   Wide-eyed, Davis stared at him and then drew himself up to his full five feet. "It will be my pleasure. Just be careful they don't find you murdered early one morning, my boyo." He swung around. His steps echoed as he stamped out.

   "The boy will be lost." James's deep timbre held concern. "If we were in the city, I wouldn't worry as much. In the country, he's a fish out of water. We need to mount a search."

   Lucas skewered Jake with a look. "Come here."

   The boy hunched his thin shoulders.

   "Now," Lucas said. "I want the whole story."

   Like a whipped dog, the lad slunk toward him. "I don't know nuffin'."

   A couple of feet from Lucas, Jake halted. Back against the piano leg, he slid to the floor. He buried his forehead on his knees. "I ain't staying, neither."

   The rage and anguish in the thin voice twisted Lucas's heart. "Why did you do it?"

   Lifting his head, Jake scooped up a little pile of dust missed by Mrs. Green's broom. He trickled the fine white powder on the knee of his new gray trousers.

   Red opened his mouth, exchanged a dark look with Pete, and closed it again. A covenant of thieves, a common front against whatever the world might throw at them.

   They trusted no one, least of all him. Lucas swept his disappointment aside. "You stole the watch, and Fred took it back. Right, Jake?" Lucas prompted. "Nothing bad will happen provided you tell the truth. That is the honorable thing to do. No one will tell the magistrate, nor will you be beaten. I swear it."

   Tears welled up in Jake's gray eyes, and he dragged his sleeve across his face with a sniffle. "Davis said you'd horsewhip us after we put salt in his tea yesterday. I took the watch to serve him right for tattling. I never meant to keep it." His gaze begged for understanding. "Fred saw it under my blanket when he came to check on our cots. He said Davis'd have my gizzard if I let on it was me."

   "Fred al'ays babies him," Red muttered.

   Jake threw a punch at the other boy's thigh. "I ain't a baby." He pulled himself to his feet, his expression a little less hangdog.

   If only Fred had stayed to face the music, had trusted that Lucas would believe the truth and help him. Just as Caro had trusted him.

   "Damn!" he exclaimed.

   The boys jumped.

   Lucas shook his head. He couldn't think about Caro right now. "Does anyone know where he might have gone?"

   The four boys and James huddled around him.

   "A city lad ought to stand out like a molehill on a manicured lawn," James said.

   "Right," Lucas replied. This would take no time at all.

   And he would dash back and see Caro first thing in the morning. They'd face the ton together.

* * *

   "I fear Lucas is correct," Tisha said, her peacock-blue silk bright against the green damask sofa and the jaunty oval hat tipped over one eye at variance with her sad expression. "You have to leave London."

   Still reeling from the full implication of her indiscretion, Caro bit her top lip. What if she could never come back? What if her sisters were so tainted by what she had done that they would never be admitted to polite society? She felt sick.

   Lucas had been right about one thing. She had ruined everything. Worse, she might have killed someone. How could she have been so rash?

   A ripple of chills ran down her back. She hoped she appeared less agitated than she felt. "I truly had no idea of the consequences. Is there nothing I can do?"

   Tisha glanced down at her cup. "I will do what I can to stop tongues from wagging. I never thought to warn you about Selina Watson. She has a dreadful reputation. Who would have thought she would have the effrontery to approach you after . . ." She pressed her fingertips to her mouth, her spoon rattling in its saucer.

   A sinking sensation snatched Caro's breath. "What?"

   Tisha gave a little moan. "Audley is like to kill me for my indiscretion one of these days. I must be the only diplomat's wife in the world who cannot keep hold of her tongue."

   Hollow inside, Caro placed her cup on the pretty rosewood table in front of her, the table she had purchased last week because it reminded her of one her mother had loved. She ran a fingertip along its gilded edge. "You might as well tell me."

   "It's all foolish gossip."

   A knife seemed to twist in her heart. She raised her gaze to meet her friend's sorrowful one. Caro continued, "I think it would be better if I knew the full import of my folly, don't you? What does Mrs. Watson have to do with Lucas?"

   Defeat crossed Tisha's face. "It is rumored they had a liaison."

   Caro tried not to flinch. "I see," she whispered.

   Reaching across the table to grasp Caro's hand, Tisha continued. "It was years ago, and over long before he married you, but she caused a great fuss when he finished with her. Stockbridge got to hear of it. I understand it resulted in quite an argument. She's dreadfully fast and looking for a husband."

   So this was the reason Lucas and his father didn't get along. He'd abandoned the poor woman without a thought to her suffering. She must have been overwrought to try to take revenge on his wife.And Caro had thought she might somehow win his love. He cared less for her than he had for this woman. What was worse, Caro had always known it.

   She swallowed. A thread of pride finer than a strand of silk held her tears suspended.

   A knock on the door startled her. Tisha jerked her hand away.

   Beckwith opened the door. "The Chevalier Valeron and Mr. Cedric Rivers are inquiring if you are at home, my lady."

   Caro sighed. More recriminations. But she had to face them. "Show them up please, Beckwith."

   Tisha rose, her silks rustling. "I really must go. I promised poor Audley I'd be but an hour. He leaves for Paris in the morning."

   Caro rose to her feet, her heart full of gratitude. "It was kind of you to spare the time."

   Tisha squeezed her hands. "What else could I do? I feel as if I let you down. It would not have happened had I been with you. Go to Norwich. By next season, it will all be forgotten."

   There would be no next season. Not for her. She forced a smile. "Thank you for all you have done. I'm sorry I am such a failure as a protégée."

   "Nonsense. We will come about, you will see." A scent of jasmine lingered after her departure.

   A pang squeezed Caro's battered heart. She would probably never see Tisha Audley again.

   The deep voices of men rumbled up the stairs. Moments later, the Chevalier, immaculate in a blue coat and crisp white linen, sauntered in with a wry twist to his lips. "My lady." He swept his usual elegant bow.

   Cedric, one step behind, gazed at her with a stern expression. "Cousin," he murmured over her hand, his flat black eyes never leaving her face, "I wish you had listened to me yesterday." He had the expression of a man who had lost a crown and found a shilling.

   "No sense in crying over the cat licking the cream," François said in comforting tones.

   Caro and Cedric stared at him.

   "Spilt milk," Cedric muttered.

   "Ah,
oui.
Indeed, the spilt milk." François sat next to her on the sofa. "What will you do now?"

   Deflated by Tisha's words of wisdom and her own self-recriminations, Caro could only shake her head.

   Cedric lowered himself into the small chair by the window, his long limbs folding like a spider settling into a web. "What does Lucas have to say to all this? I expected to find him here."

   Lucas had fled rather than look at her, she thought sadly. "He went out of Town last night. A hunting trip with Mr. Bascombe, I believe."

   "Hunting?" Cedric looked puzzled. "Wrong time of year."

   "I don't think the birds were of the feathered variety," François said. "Not if the gossip at the clubs is the truth." He caught Caro's wide-eyed stare and raised his gaze to the ceiling. "I beg your pardon, Lady Foxhaven. Can you ever forgive me?"

   A grain of anger at Lucas's cavalier attitude grew into a desert full of shifting dunes. "You mean he can do whatever he pleases, and I am shunned for nothing but a horserace?"

   "Banished," Cedric uttered in hollow tones. "I never thought a family member of mine would be cut."

   Put like that, it sounded worse than anything Tisha had said. Caro slumped against the couch. "Both Lucas and Lady Audley think I should go back to Norwich until the gossip blows over."

   His face lit up with mischief, François snapped his fingers. "Don't go to this dreary Norwich. Come to Paris. The season is in full swing. You will be
adorée
."

   She stared at him. "I couldn't."

   "What difference, provided you leave London?" François said.

   That was certainly true. And if Cedric approved . . . She managed a weak smile. "I couldn't possibly descend on my Aunt without warning."

   "An excuse.
Tante
Honoré longs to hold you in her arms," François said, a twinkle in his brown eyes.

   "My sisters. The scandal."

   He waived an airy hand. "Write to them. No one in Paris cares about these silly English rules."

   A chance to meet her great aunt seemed too good to be true, and this way, her sisters would not need to know of her disgrace. The thought of telling them chilled her blood.

   If Tisha was right—that given enough time, the talk would die down—perhaps she could return in a month or two.

   She glanced over at Cedric.

"What will Foxhaven say?" he asked gloomily.

   Lucas didn't care where she went. She disgusted him. A huge ache filled her throat. Lucas never wanted this marriage. He'd cheerfully sent her packing while he continued his own pursuits. It wasn't the first time he'd abandoned her for something more interesting. The room blurred.

   
The croaking of happy frogs filled the warm night
air. A rhythmic splash of oars brought Caro's head off
her knees. The cool breeze ruffled the wisps of hair
around her face. She jumped to her feet, peering into
the dark at a twinkling bobbing light on the lake.
"Lucas?" she yelled. "Over here!"

   
The splashing ceased and then picked up speed.
"Pigeon?" he called back. "Is that you?"

   
Who else would it be? The lady of the lake? She
rubbed at her chilled arms. This was the last time
she'd agree to be left behind like some unwanted
baggage just because the triplets decided they had
precedence because they were older.

   
The rowboat crunched against the island's sandy
shore. Lucas stood up. The boat rocked wildly, caus
ing the lantern balanced on the bow to flicker. "You
are still here."

   
"Where else would I be? I'm practically marooned.
You promised to come back for me and the picnic
basket the moment you dropped the triplets on shore."
The boat wasn't big enough for all five of them.

   
"Father sent a groom to tell me Aunt Rivers and
Cedric had arrived for tea." His voice sounded odd.
The boat wobbled unsteadily beneath his feet. "I
asked Matthew to row back and get you. He prom
ised."

   
"He must have found something better to do. I
haven't seen hide or hair of him."

   
"Blast. I should have guessed he'd let me down."
He sounded genuinely disgusted.

   
She shook her head. "It was me he let down."
She heaved the basket into the boat. "Well, you are
here now, and I really must get home before Father
finishes tomorrow's sermon and notices I'm missing.
One of my sisters is bound to mention I've been gone
all day if I am not there to stop them."

   
"Right. Climb in, and I'll row you across." He
hiccupped and then giggled. In the lamplight, he
looked owlish, and his grin seemed just a little too
broad, as if he was cup-shot.

   
"Are you foxed, Lucas?"

   
He scratched at his ear and shook his head. The
boat wobbled worse than before. "Can't be. Cedric
says it takes more than a couple of pints to make a
man bosky."

   
Cedric. She might have guessed he'd be involved.
More and more, he seemed to pull Lucas away from
his friends. Caro stifled her vague pang of anger at
the older cousin she had never met. He was Lucas's
family after all. But he wasn't the one getting in a
boat with Lucas.

   
"Come on, then," Lucas said, waving an arm.

   
She grabbed hold of the gunwale and threw one
leg over the top. "Where is your cousin now?"

   
His gaze fixed on her bare ankle. He swallowed
loudly and then gestured in the direction of the far
shore. "He went for a stroll with the barmaid." He
giggled again. "I got tired of waiting. That's when I
started wondering if Matthew had kept his promise.
'Sides, I needed some fresh air."