Page 24 of Fortune Favors the Frivolous
He saw to his horse with unsteady hands, his thoughts in complete turmoil. He’d known Caroline his entire life, had thought of her as a sister, a friend, a cherished companion. When had all of that changed?
He swallowed, his mouth dry as he acknowledged the depth of his feelings. When had she become the woman he couldn’t bear to lose?
Inside, the innkeeper’s wife had installed Caroline in a cozy private parlor with tea and fresh bread. And when Caroline looked up when Henry entered, something in her eyes—a new awareness, a shy uncertainty—made his breath catch in his throat.
“They really think we’re to be married,” she whispered.
“I daresay we should correct them,” Henry replied. The words hung between them, charged with possibility.
“Probably.” She studied her teacup. “Henry, thank you for coming after me. I know what I did was foolish—”
“It wasn’t foolish,” he interrupted, moving closer. “It was the bravest thing I’ve ever known anyone do. You risked everything for Venetia, without a thought for your own safety.”
“I couldn’t let Windermere force her into marriage,” Caroline said fiercely. “She deserves better than a man who will treat her unkindly, no matter that she’d no longer want for material things.”
“She does,” Henry agreed. “And so do you.”
A silence stretched between them, fragile and charged with unspoken meaning, until the sound of approaching horses made them both tense. Henry moved to the window, carefully peering out from behind the curtain.
“Just travelers,” he said, relieved. “Not Windermere.” He turned back to her, noting the exhaustion in her posture, the way she was trying so hard to appear strong. “We shouldn’t linger too long, but you need rest.”
“How far to the Rose and Crown?” Caroline asked.
“Another hour if we push hard,” Henry said. “But you’re exhausted, and Venetia…” He paused, remembering the complications awaiting them. “Venetia is safe with some kind people who are looking after her. There’s no immediate danger… from a physical point of view.” Still, he felt sick at the thought of how the Gascoynes might trumpet their exploits to the world.
As soon as Caroline and he had rested, he’d press on and plead his case to the elderly pair. Surely they’d be made to understand.
He crossed to her chair and took her hand. “You’ve been through so many ordeals these last hours, Caroline. You need to rest.”
Her gaze dropped to their joined hands, and he saw her breath hitch slightly.
His thumb traced small circles against her palm, a gesture that felt shockingly intimate. “I’ll see to getting us some rooms and supper.”
As he turned to leave, Caroline called after him, “Henry?”
He paused at the door, his heart hammering.
“I’m glad it was you who found me and… not anyone else.” The simple words held a weight of meaning that made his chest tight with emotion.
“Always, Caroline,” he said quietly. “I’ll always come for you.”
Outside in the corridor, Henry leaned against the wall and tried to steady his breathing. Everything had changed in the space of a day—his understanding of his feelings for Caroline, the danger she was in, the impossible situation they now found themselves in.
Because there was still the matter of Venetia to consider, and the assumptions people would make about Caroline’s reputation after her adventures. There were social expectations and family obligations and a dozen other complications that stood between him and the woman he was only now realizing he’d loved for years.
But for now, she was safe. She was here, and she was safe, and that would have to be enough.
Chapter Thirteen
When Henry hadgone, Caroline picked up her cup of tea but, this time, her hand was shaking so much that the teacup clattered into the dish, spilling liquid onto the cloth.
She put down her teacup and, resting her head in her hands, leaned forward and began to cry. The tears came silently at first, then in shuddering waves that left her breathless, releasing all the fear and tension she’d held inside during her ordeal.
“There, there, now lovey, I’m sure it ain’t all that bad,” the innkeeper’s wife clucked some time later with a sympathetic smile. “It’s not too late for regrets now. The border is a good few hours away and nothing is signed and sealed. If you want this young man to leave you alone, Mrs. Binns will help you get back to them what’ll take care of you.”
“Oh, he’s been utterly wonderful!” Caroline protested. “There is no one better than my Henry, and he has risked his life to help me. Really, I’m just—” she hesitated, fingering the damp handkerchief in her hands “—overcome by how much has happened so suddenly.”
“No regrets, then? Sure?” Mrs. Binns’s kind eyes searched Caroline’s face.
