Rumours that Ruined a Lady

Kitty Garrison laughed softly. ‘No regrets, my lord, only diamonds. You may have them sent round in the morning.’

She was gone in a flutter of silk and velvet, leaving behind the faintest scent of rosewater. ‘I must apologise,’ Sebastian said curtly. ‘If it was known that you had been exchanging pleasantries with Kitty Garrison...’

‘Why should that worry you?’

‘It doesn’t, but it should worry you.’

‘Oh, my reputation is spotless. No one would believe it.’

They were in the small reception hall. Caro pulled on her cloak. It was made of serviceable wool and quite unadorned, worn for its all-enveloping properties, as was the wide, plain hat she had chosen. Sebastian tucked her hand into his arm as they went down the steps of Mrs Foster’s house and began to walk along Great Russell Street. It was not quite dark, but the lamps were already lit on the few carriages which passed. The air had a tang to it which Caro could not get used to, of coal and dust, so different from the sharp, clean smell of the air at Killellan. As always at this time of the evening, with the night stretching ahead, there was a sense of excitement, a tension, of a city waiting for the cover of dark to fall before bursting into life.

‘You know perfectly well that you should not have been at that woman’s house tonight without even your maid to accompany you,’ Sebastian said.

‘What Papa and Bella don’t know cannot harm them,’ Caro responded flippantly. ‘It seems to me that if they knew that you were accompanying me across London in the dark, they’d be a lot more concerned than if they discovered I’d attended a séance and conversed with a courtesan.’

‘Their fears would be quite groundless. I never seduce innocents. Dammit, someone ought to be keeping a closer eye on you.’

‘Oh, but they think they are. However, as I discovered tonight, it is remarkably easy to dupe people into believing one is doing as one ought when they don’t actually care. Papa leaves us girls to Bella, and Bella is so very taken up with her darling boys that she has very little time to supervise us.’

Sebastian threw her a strange look. ‘I would have thought that Lord Armstrong would show a great deal of care about who you do—or do not—spend your time with, since the whole point of the Season...’

‘Is to make a match. Papa has taken a great deal of care. He has drawn up a list, and handed the list to Bella, whose job it is to orchestrate the introductions, while it is my job to make myself charming, as you would have noted for yourself had you frequented any of the numerous parties or balls I have dutifully attended.’

‘I have no wish to become the prey of some matron determined to snare a husband for her daughter. There is no more terrifying creature in all the world than a mama with the scent of marriage in her nostrils.’

Caro laughed. ‘It is true, there are times when I feel as if I am being paraded around like a prime piece of horseflesh. I am twenty years of age, and my entire life is already mapped out for me. A Season to catch a husband who will embellish my father’s position, a few years of docile matrimony to produce the requisite heirs, then I shall no doubt be retired to the country to rear them while my husband enjoys himself in the town as every other husband does.’

‘That is a very jaded point of view.’

‘Oh, I don’t really mean it. I am merely a little—it is nothing. What else is someone like me to do, if not marry?’

‘Attend séances.’

‘Oh, tonight was a—a temporary aberration.’ Caro gave herself a little shake. ‘I am perfectly content to marry one of the men Papa has picked out for me. Though Cassie and Celia have made excellent marriages, they were neither of his choosing. It is only right that one of his daughters does as he bids, for it seems to me that Cressie—never mind, it doesn’t matter.’

‘It obviously does. Tell me.’

She hesitated, but he did seem to be genuinely interested, and the urge to confide in someone was strong now that even the prospect of hearing from Mama had disappeared. ‘I know Cressie is not happy, though when I ask her if anything is wrong, she tells me that there is nothing. But I know there is. She tries so hard to pretend, but I know she hates going to dances and she would much rather be alone with her mathematical books than talking about fashion over the teacups.’

‘Mathematics!’

‘Cressie is the clever one. She is practically a genius,’ Caro said proudly. ‘She has been working on a mathematical theory of cards, something to do with probability and chance. It’s all a bit over my head, but she claims that the system she has developed for faro is foolproof. I would love to be able to surprise her by proving that it is.’

‘And how would you propose to do that?’ Sebastian said warily.

‘You are a great rake, are you not? Well, you must be, because they call you the Heartless Heartbreaker.’

‘A stupid name. I doubt any of the women I have had dealings with have a heart to break.’

‘Rakes are notorious gamesters.’

‘Cards are not one of my vices.’

‘Drink then. Though I confess, I’ve never understood the attraction. What is the point of drinking to excess, if you cannot remember, the next morning, whether you enjoyed yourself or not?’

‘Or whether you had done anything scandalous or not,’ Sebastian added drily.

‘Had you had too much wine then, when you drove hell for leather in the curricle you raced to Brighton, or when you swam the length of the Serpentine in the depth of winter for a wager, or when you climbed to the top of the clock tower of St Paul’s?’

‘Had I been in my cups when I climbed St Paul’s I would most likely be dead. It might surprise you to know, Lady Caroline, that I am not accustomed to drink to excess.’

‘It is Caro. What possessed you to do such dangerous things?’

‘What possessed you to ride a horse you could not control?’

She was forced to smile. ‘Touché. Would it cause a great scandal if you were to take me to a gambling hell?’

He stared at her for a moment, then burst into laughter. ‘Not at all, that would be perfectly acceptable since you and I are acquainted. I recommend we try Crockford’s, known as Fishmonger’s Hall amongst the savvy. The stakes are prodigious there, and their reputation for fleecing every flat who enters the hallowed portals is second to none. Your sister’s mathematical system will get a thorough examination, and if it works you will earn a small fortune in the process. I am jesting, I hasten to add, before you get any silly ideas.’

She had not been entirely serious, but Sebastian’s teasing dismissal raised her hackles just as it had four years ago, when he told her she could not ride his horse. Were it not for the turn the conversation had taken, she would never have dreamed of doing any such a thing as visiting a hell. But she was sure she’d heard Cressie crying in her room last night. How pleased she would be when Caro presented her with the validation of her theory—if she could just persuade Sebastian to accompany her.

They were walking along Margaret Street, a few minutes from Cavendish Square. The nearer they came to her father’s house, the less Caro wanted to arrive because then Sebastian would leave her. She was acutely conscious of her gloved hand on his arm, of her cloak brushing against his leg. It was sheer chance which had brought them together tonight, for they moved in very different circles. Four years since their last meeting, and most likely there would be the same before their next. ‘You may be jesting, but I am in earnest. I would very much like to visit this Crockford’s,’ she said impulsively. ‘It would make Cressie so happy.’

‘You are being ridiculous.’

‘It is surely not entirely without precedent for ladies to frequent such establishments, wearing either masks or veils. I may indeed be fleeced, if Cressie’s theory is wrong, but I am unlikely to be ravished.’

‘Caro, you can’t mean it.’

She didn’t, yet part of her did. There was a strange pleasure to be had in challenging him, just to watch his reaction, but there was too the fact that she would be flaunting the rules just a little. Besides, she would also be helping her sister. ‘I could go disguised as a man, if you thought it would be safer that way,’ she said hopefully.

‘Good grief, no, you would fool no one.’

‘Truly? I am so thin, I would have thought...’

‘Caro.’ They were at the corner of Cavendish Square, yards away from her father’s house. Sebastian pulled her into the shadow of the corner building, away from the lamplight, and pushed her veil up from her face. ‘It is true, you are slim enough to slip through rain, but believe me, there is nothing in the least bit boyish about you.’

He held her lightly, his hands on her arms. Not quite an intimate embrace, not quite wholly respectable either. ‘Why don’t you escort me there, since you are so concerned for my well-being?’

‘Are you out of your mind!’

‘With you as my protector I would surely be safe, and...’

‘Caroline! Enough of this nonsense, you have gone too far.’

She studied him carefully. His mouth was set in a firm line, his expression stern. ‘My apologies. I see now that I would be placing you in a most uncomfortable position, which is unfair of me.’

‘Dammit, it’s not about me. I have no reputation worthy of losing.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘It strikes me that you have put an enormous amount of effort into building just such a reputation.’

‘It strikes me that you are doing a very poor job of winning me over.’

‘I can see you are resolved not to assist me, and so I will make my own arrangements.’

His hands tightened on her arms. He pulled her the tiniest bit closer. She could feel his breath on her face. Her heart hammered in her breast. She was hot. Her stomach was churning. She felt as if she were hovering on the edge of a cliff, that giddy temptation to leap into the void almost overwhelming.

‘You would not dare,’ he said.

No, she would not, but nor would she back down now. ‘Did I falter when faced with the challenge of riding your unbroken horse?’ Caro asked.

Sebastian swore under his breath. ‘You would, wouldn’t you? No, don’t answer that.’

‘So take me then, Lord Chivalrous, it is surely your duty to do so. Your father would certainly expect it of you, to protect his neighbour’s daughter.’

Sebastian’s smile turned immediately to a frown. ‘I could easily inform your father of tonight’s events and this discussion, but you will note that I do not threaten any such thing, even though it is what any responsible man would do.’

The sudden change in his demeanour shocked her. She had quite forgotten what he had said of his relationship with his father, having dismissed it as a mere passing quarrel, but things had obviously not improved. ‘I beg your pardon, I meant only to tease.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ he replied, though she could see that it patently did. ‘Caroline, you cannot—must not—go to Crockford’s alone.’

She refrained from making any further comment, aware that she had come very close to overstepping the mark. Her heart thudded as she watched him wrestling with his conscience. Her own was beginning to bother her. It was unfair of her. And wrong. But she had come too far to back down now.

She was eventually rewarded with a weary nod. ‘Very well,’ Sebastian said, ‘you leave me with no option, Crockford’s it is. But I earnestly hope we do not live to regret this rash decision.’

Chapter Three

Crag Hall—summer 1830

‘So this is where you’ve been hiding.’

Sebastian looked up wearily from the account book to find Caro standing in the doorway. She wore a simple gown, cream striped with pale green and lemon. The scooped neck showed the soft swell of her breasts, the fragile hollows at the base of her throat. Her hair hung in soft, fiery tendrils over her shoulders. There were still shadows under her eyes, but her skin, no longer ashen, had regained the rich creaminess which had always fascinated him. There remained a fragility about her, she was still far too slim, but she had come a long way since he had brought her here. His mouth went dry as he met her eyes, the blue of a summer sky. Even after all that had passed, even with all that he knew of her, just looking at her was like a kick in the stomach. ‘You look better.’

‘Thanks to several good nights’ rest and a bath. Your housekeeper told me I would find you here. It is very—cosy.’

Convenient was the word he would have used, for the room served as his dining room, study and parlour. Seeing it through Caro’s eyes however, Sebastian realised that it was also cramped and rather shambolic. The large walnut desk stacked with account books, papers and tomes on all aspects of agriculture took up much of the available space. Two wingback chairs faced each other across the hearth. A bookcase occupied another wall, and the small table with two matching chairs took up the only remaining space, leaving little room for manoeuvre. ‘I find it adequate for my simple needs,’ he said defensively. ‘I am close to the stables, I don’t have to employ a small army of servants, and it suits me well enough.’

‘Mrs Keith told me that you kept the staff to a minimum, so I suggested I eat here with you from now on to avoid being an additional burden to the household.’ Caro picked her way across the room to the table and sat down. ‘She looked most disapproving. I suspect she thinks we do more than eat together.’

‘She may disapprove, but she won’t gossip, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

Caro rested her chin on her hand, eyeing him speculatively. ‘Are you having second thoughts, Sebastian? Mrs Keith may not gossip, but you know what it’s like in the shires, my being here will probably already have been discussed over the breakfast cups at every house in the county.’

Sebastian pulled out a seat and joined her at the table. He had been so engrossed in his accounts that he’d failed to notice that it was set for two. Having persuaded her to stay, persuaded himself that his motives were purely chivalrous, her remaining closeted in her room these last two days had allowed him to fool himself into thinking that he had quite forgotten her presence. This unexpected domesticity rather took him unawares. ‘I told you,’ he said, ‘I don’t give a damn what the county say of me.’

‘It’s certainly clear that you have made no effort to endear yourself.’

‘What the devil do you mean by that?’ Sebastian demanded, irked as much by the cool confidence of her tone as by her words.

‘Look at this room, it is as if you are camping out and will pack up and leave at any moment. As to the rest of the house—Sebastian, it cannot have escaped your notice that it is sadly neglected. Mrs Keith tells me all the rooms save yours are shut up. She said that I am the first person to stay here since your father died. She said...’

‘She said a great deal too much. It was my father who let the house go, if you must know. It was like this when I returned from my travels.’

‘Perhaps it was like this because you did not return from your travels earlier.’ Caro dropped her coffee cup with a clatter. ‘I’m sorry. That was unpardonable, I have no right to pass comment on your behaviour.’

‘It was. And you don’t,’ he said tightly.

She buttered a slice of bread, cut it carefully into four triangles and began to nibble on one, saying nothing, but he was aware that she was studying him from under her lashes. Sebastian poured himself another cup of coffee and sipped it broodingly. ‘I don’t see what my neglecting my house has to do with what the damned county think of me,’ he said.

‘No?’

She shrugged, and started on a second triangle of bread. She had very white teeth. She had a very sharp mind. He had no need to justify himself to her. ‘Besides, I have no time for the upkeep of this great barn of a place. Keeping the land in good heart takes all of my time and energy. Not that I get any thanks for that either.’

‘I expect it’s difficult for you to understand the way of things here. You told me the first day we met,’ she added, in response to his questioning look, ‘that you spent as little time as possible at Crag Hall. It is hardly to be expected that you would know how to manage such a large estate.’

Much as he would have liked to, Sebastian could not argue with this fact. ‘An inevitable state of affairs, since my father had no more desire for my company than I had for his,’ he said brusquely.

‘Well, that is one thing we now have in common then,’ Caro said after a short, uncomfortable silence. ‘I used to think that my father was simply not the affectionate type. I was sure he loved me, even though he never gave any sign that he did. Then Bella had James, and Papa haunted the nursery, and it was the same with Henry and George and Freddie. He was never like that with us girls.’

‘Caro, I’m sure...’

‘No. No, there is no point in pretending. If he loved me he would not cast me off. He did not even ask if any of it was true. He took my husband at his word. They went to the same school, you know, though Papa is a good twenty years older.’

He was tempted to ask her for her side of the story, but refrained, telling himself that he did not care, that it was nothing to do with him, that her being here was merely transitory. Her attempt to smile was admirable. Though every word she said was true, he could not doubt the pain which lay behind her acceptance of such unpleasant facts, for he knew how much it had meant to her, to try to please the man. ‘You seem very philosophical about it all,’ he said.

‘That is what happens when you come close to death. It rather gives you a perspective on your life,’ Caro replied drily. ‘Sebastian, why do you keep the house shut up like this?’

He threw his unused napkin onto the table. ‘Dammit, can’t you leave it?’

‘If you were to open it up, to invite your neighbours to tea...’

‘Tea! Do you honestly think they’d allow their wives and daughters to take tea with the Heartless Heartbreaker?’

She chuckled. ‘I expect most of their wives and daughters would readily take anything you were prepared to offer them.’

Her eyes were alight with humour. She had a mouth made for smiling, though he was willing to bet she hadn’t done much of that recently. And for kissing. It caught him unawares, the memory of her lips on his, the sweet floral scent of her, the silken softness of her glorious hair. He realised he was staring at her, and poured himself another cup of cold and unwanted coffee. She had changed, he thought. She was right, he didn’t really know her at all.

‘My sisters and I used to call your papa the Marquis of Ardhellow,’ Caro said, interrupting his thoughts. ‘We used to speculate about what the house was like. We were desperate to see inside. It is ironic that it took an overdose of opium for me to be granted my wish. From the little I have seen of the place, Crag Hall would live up to every one of the terrible tales we used to spin. It is quite Gothic in its state of neglect.’

She always did have a way of turning things on their head. That much had not changed. Sebastian pushed his full coffee cup out of reach. ‘The Marquis of Ardhellow. I suppose you think the title fits me even better than it did my father.’

She pursed her lips. ‘What I suppose is that you would like it to be so. You seem almost to relish your poor reputation.’

‘Why not? It was hard-earned.’

Caro looked at him appraisingly. ‘What a strange thing to say. And I suppose my being here can only help your cause. So, you really do intend to walk in your father’s shoes after all?’

‘What is that supposed to mean?’

‘Shut up here, never seeing anyone. Just as he did.’

‘I see people every day.’

‘Tenants. Villagers. Stable hands. Your bailiff. Servants. But you don’t have any friends to dinner. You don’t call on your neighbours.’

‘There is the small matter of your presence here. And the fact that my nearest neighbours happen to be your family.’

‘Sebastian, do not be obtuse. How could you have guests call on you here, in this room which is smaller than some of your tenants’ parlours? You don’t even employ a cook. Such a beautiful place this is, and so obviously unloved, it is a shame.’

‘I am not the one who neglected this damned pile.

‘Perhaps your father stopped caring because he knew you did not.’

Sebastian pushed his chair back angrily. ‘If I had known you would be so damned inquisitive about matters which do not concern you I would have...’

‘Left me to die.’

‘No! Caro, I did not mean that.’

‘I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I did not mean to poke my nose into your affairs. It is simply that—oh, you will think I am being melodramatic, but you saved my life. I wanted to help save yours.’

‘Thank you, but I do not require saving.’ She looked as if he had slapped her. He felt as if he had. Dammit, he would not let her get under his skin. ‘You will excuse me now, but I have important matters to attend to,’ Sebastian said. ‘My father may have neglected both me and the house but he never shirked his duty when it came to the estate, and nor shall I. Last year’s harvest was poor, and this year’s looks likely to be no better. Despite my lack of experience, I am very much aware of the impact this will have on the labourers.’ In fact, it was a problem which kept him awake at night, for the resulting unrest threatened to turn very nasty indeed. Sebastian was determined to do all he could to alleviate any suffering, but his lack of experience made it a difficult business, giving him ample cause to regret the ignorance he had so deliberately cultivated. ‘Like it or not, I am the Marquis of Ardhallow now.’ Nodding curtly, he left the room.

* * *

Alone at the table, Caro dropped her head into her hands. All the brightness of the new day seemed to have disappeared. The dark clouds which had enveloped her of late loomed large. She sat up, squaring her shoulders. She had problems enough of her own without trying to solve Sebastian’s. In fact, it was probably a desire to avoid thinking about her own problems which had made her turn on him as she had done.

She got to her feet and began to tidy the breakfast things. It was the least she could do, since Mrs Keith was so short-handed. Two years ago, he had finally destroyed her silly notion that she was in love with him. Two years ago, he had destroyed the last of her illusions about him. She had always laughed at the notion of his being the Heartless Heartbreaker, but perhaps after all that was exactly how it was. Like the Hall, Sebastian’s feelings on the subject were locked away and shuttered. His heart was as cold and empty as the house he inhabited.

Picking up a stack of plates, she made her way carefully across the untidy room. The problem was, if he really had wanted to live up to his name, he would surely have left her to die. What was it he’d called them? Two renegades. She smiled to herself, finding that she liked the idea very much. They had always been thus, back then. Cocking a snook at the world. That night at Crockford’s for example...

London—1824

A week had passed since Sebastian had left Caro outside her father’s house at Cavendish Square following the séance. A week, during which time he’d almost convinced himself that she would see sense and change her mind, until her note had arrived that morning. It had been terse and to the point. Her father was still abroad, her stepmother was temporarily confined to bed, her aunt was unavailable to act as duenna, Cressie had of a sudden come down with a head cold and was also confined to bed, and so Caro was free tonight to accompany Sebastian to Crockford’s. If this in any way inconveniences my lord, then be assured that I am perfectly capable of accompanying myself, it finished.

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