Page 11 of His Haunted Duchess
She ran through the night’s events in her mind. It had seemed so short a time—just a moment away from the whirl of society. How long had they been alone? And—her horror deepened—complete strangers!
His behavior, of course, had been in every degree aligned with the comportment of a gentleman—considerate, thoughtful, and kind. They might, under different circumstances, have even become friends. But what had hers been? A speck of relief settled on her ruffled feelings; she had, at least, comported herself withappropriate decorum, considering the circumstances. Oh, how she wished to hide!
One of the ladies near the front hid her face behind her fan, obscuring her open-mouthed incredulity as her companion whispered something in her ear.
Caroline put a hand to her forehead, trying to steady herself. She wished they would stop. The half-heard phrases were bad enough, but the shift of their eyes as they chipped away pieces of her character cut her to the core.
The gentleman stepped between her and the crowd, shielding her from their confabulations. A warm, familiar glow passed through her as she gazed at him. Her eyes thanked him gratefully, had he been turned towards them enough to receive their effusions.
She just wanted to go home. How far away was the carriage? Wasn’t there a way she could hurry thence to it without causing any more scandal? She glanced into the shrubbery, seeking a path to flee. She had never wanted more to disappear, to fade into the shadows and the welcome solace from pointed speculation.
“Silence,” the Duchess of Blackmore demanded crisply. She had, at last, regained some of her composure. The bustle gradually settled, like a flock of starlings setting to perch.
She turned to the gentleman. “It would seem, Your Grace, that your walk in the garden extended past what you intended.”
Several ladies in the back giggled nervously. Esther paid them a pointed glance. The giggles stifled. The gentleman adjusted his gloves.
“Somewhat,” he answered. He looked over the group. “I did pass an excellent topiary before I met with?—”
His gaze fell on three ladies peeking out near the back. Caroline thought she caught the flash of a florid orange spencer. It quickly disappeared into the throng. The gentleman’s eyes tightened.
“I was taking the air when I came across this lady. We paused for a moment’s tete-a-tete.”
Caroline trembled.Please,she hoped.Please don’t mention the heckling or the curse—not before this many people!Of course, the words were already laced through their thoughts and stitched into their lips—but if only, this moment, she wouldn’t need to bear them spoken out loud.
Already she felt as if she was sitting uncomfortably close to a roaring fire in midsummer. She closed her eyes, trying to picture holding Oscar, safe and comfortable in her bed at home. It seemed so very far away.
The duchess’ eyes flashed like a candle struck from a match. Her unspoken questions and remonstrations pushed on Caroline like overstuffed pillows.
“I see,” she said slowly. Her imperious gaze shifted from the gentleman to her, and she trembled as the duchess’ eyes traced over her face, over her scar. “And this lady is?”
The gentleman turned to Caroline.
“I don’t believe we’ve met, actually.”
Several ladies behind Aunt Olivia gasped. The bustle, contained before now, erupted in new waves. Their dismay broke like glass over Caroline’s ears. She closed her eyes, trying unsuccessfully to check the blush steaming through the back of her neck.
“They hadn’t even been introduced?”
“How shocking!”
“The gross impropriety—in public of all places?—”
“What a dreadful scandal!”
Caroline trembled, searching for the fleck of relief she had felt but moments ago. She knew—she had felt when her nervousness had pricked at her that morning at breakfast—that some disaster would befall them; she had brushed it away as the echo of a nervous complaint.
Aunt Olivia.
She opened her eyes. What would Aunt Olivia say? What would she do? Aunt Olivia’s eyes were tight shut, but her lips were moving—either in prayer or profanity, Caroline couldn’t tell.
The gentleman, at least, appeared not in the least discomfited. His face remained placid as he addressed her with the same tone as he would any other lady at any other time.
“What was your name, my lady?”
The duchess’ face tightened until it looked as though it might turn to stone. Caroline shook under her displeasure. She ought to have sought an introduction through the master of ceremonies, ought to have fled the garden as soon as she was able. And now, to be here, stared at like an animal in a cage!
Aunt Olivia opened her eyes and stepped forward.
