The Accidental Abduction (38 page)

“I know, Caro.”

Caroline glanced toward the door. Had she heard a man's footsteps from below? She wasn't sure. Fear struck a chord inside her, but she stilled it. Now that she was her own woman, she would have to get over being afraid. She would have to meet the world with poise and dignity, as Mama told her a real lady did.

“You see what this means, Fi? I can leave. I can leave anytime I like. I'm free.” This was the first time she'd said these words out loud and they felt rich and delicious against her tongue.

“Yes, but . . .”

“But what?” Now that Caroline had broken this last silence, the fact of her freedom began to fully blossom within her. She had laid up a wealth of dreams and plans during the lonely years since Mama's death. But any possibility of escape, no matter how modest, had lacked a single ingredient—money. Now the money was hers—all she could ever need and more.

“Jarrett's still Earl Keenesford,” Fiona said uncertainly. “No matter how great an heiress you are, he could make terrible trouble for you, if he chose.”

“Then I'll go where he cannot reach.” Now that the doors of Keenesford Hall were thrown open, every other point in the world seemed within equal reach. “The Continent. Vienna. Switzerland. Florence. Oh, Fi! I've always wanted to see Florence, and Paris, of course.”

“But, not alone, Caro,” said Fiona, plainly striving for a practical tone.

Caroline waved this away. “Mrs. Ferriday will come with me. She's already said she would.” In fact, it was Mrs. Ferriday who had been taking Caroline's letters to Mr. Upton to be sent by hand from the carriage house in the next village. “She's a second cousin of Mama's. That will do for the proprieties.”

“Not for long, Caro. You don't know how the London matrons love to tear a newcomer down.”

“But I won't be staying in London,” Caroline reminded her. “After your wedding, I'll be going to Paris, and past it.” What had been a dim possibility a moment ago now appeared to be the ideal scheme. “I'll be free of Jarrett and any London matron who might want fresh gossip. No one will know who I am, and no one will care. I'll have money enough. I can do anything. Be anything.” Tears were rising in her eyes. “Oh, Fi, Mama told me I'd have the freedom she never did. She just couldn't say how it would come to me. She had to keep it secret. And by the time I was old enough to understand, she was too ill.”

Fiona looked wary, clearly not convinced, but her natural high spirits were rising to the surface. A smile spread across her face, and Caroline could not help but grin in return. “Caroline, this is going to be marvelous! Think on it. You and I together in town at last. I'll introduce you to absolutely everybody. You'll have parties and balls, and you'll be able to get
married
 . . . !”

“No.” Caroline spoke the single word with absolute decision.

“What?”

“I will never marry, Fiona. That much has not changed.” Caroline had made up her mind to this years ago. Part of her decision had come from watching her mother's decline in a loveless marriage to a titled man. The rest had come from the round of country house parties she'd lived through. She'd spent too much time listening to matrons who talked of their children like a dealer talked of horses. If any cement was needed to fix her decision into place, it was created once Jarrett started inviting what few friends he had to the house to dinner. Those gentlemen were clearly being invited to inspect more than just the new guns her brother had purchased.

“But, with independent means, and a life in town . . .” Fiona was saying, but Caroline shook her head.

“If I married, I'd be entirely in my husband's power. I am determined, Fi, that I will not be controlled by anyone again, ever.”

“But . . . you can't mean to live without love, Caro. Or, well, passion.”

Caroline met her friend's concerned gaze without flinching. “Why should I have to do without passion?”

“I don't understand you.”

“If I am never going to be married, then there's no need for me to remain a virgin.” She might be an aging spinster in the world's eyes, but she was far from an innocent. She knew perfectly well why some men went sneaking down the corridors at night during their stays at certain houses, and she knew why the women who were not their wives opened doors. More than once she had looked on some of the youths and men who vied for the attentions of the girls with less watchful relations. She'd wondered, if she had been alone, and if it was her door they knocked on, would she open to them?

But, clearly, she had passed the limits of Fiona's daring. “Caro, are you mad?”

“No, I am speaking quite coolly. I am free. Absolutely and completely free. Why should I not enjoy all that freedom allows?”
Including the freedom to open the door, to say yes to whatever one I choose . . .

“All right, Caro. You've had a great deal of excitement. I'm going to make some allowances.” For a moment Fiona looked exactly like her mother at the height of her displeasure. Caroline decided now was not the time to mention the resemblance. “But when you've had time to think, you will understand what you're suggesting. There are
plenty
of words for that sort of woman. ‘Adventuress' is the most polite.”

Caroline knew Fiona was only trying to look out for her best interests, and now was most definitely not the time to argue this particular point. “I'm sorry, Fi. And I'm making a mess of your happiness, and I don't want that, not when I'm able to be your maid of honor after all! And I might need your help. I'll need to rent a house in London, and Mrs. Ferriday doesn't know the town. And this Mr. Upton . . . he can be my man of business, but I don't know him personally, so can't rely on his judgment for this. You could help us find a good place, couldn't you?”

“You know I'll do anything I can to help you. And so will Mother and Father, of course. And Harry . . .”

“Oh, no, Fi. You mustn't tell them. At least not yet.”

“Why on earth not, Caro? When have they done anything but try to help?”

“I know, I do. But . . . they are such good people. They'll wish for me to try to reconcile with Jarrett. They might even, quite accidently, of course, delay things . . .”

Fi nodded solemnly. “I do understand, Caro. Very well, I'll tell no one if that's what you want.”

“Just for now. If all goes well, I'll be in London in plenty of time for the ceremony, and once you leave on your wedding trip, I can take my own leave for the Continent and never have to worry about Jarrett, or anyone else ever again.”

But still Fi seemed hesitant. “Just . . . just don't do anything reckless. Give yourself time to get used to your circumstances. Money and freedom and London can be a strong combination.”

Having Fi turn so uncharacteristically cautious stung Caroline harder than she would have believed possible. “Fi, I never expected to hear you agreeing with Jarrett.”

“Say that again and I will have to be cross with you, Lady Caroline. I've been out for three seasons. I've seen more than one girl let London go to her head. You might be free, but you must be careful.”

“Or I'll fall into the coils of this Lord of the Rakes you keep talking about?”

“I don't keep talking about him,” replied Fi with a fine imitation of being piqued. “I mentioned him exactly once. But yes, Caroline, you might fall for him or someone like him and then—”

But Fiona was unable to finish her sentence. Heavy footsteps fell against the hall carpet and an even heavier hand knocked at the door. Caroline sprang to her feet again, and just in time she thrust her letter into Fiona's hands. A bare heartbeat later, the door opened, and Jarrett Delamarre, Earl Keenesford, walked in.