Chapter 5

Chapter 5

For Caroline, it was as though she felt everything at once. First, there was Sebastian's strong arms encircling her waist, the warmth of his chest pressed against her hands and the intimate proximity causing a blush to rise to her cheeks.

Then, it was unadulterated horror as she looked at the crowd that was staring at them—eyes wide and lips pursed.

In the front of the crowd stood Geraldine Wentworth, her wide blue eyes seeming abnormally large in her pale face.

Caroline quickly straightened up and pushed herself away from Sebastian's chest, meeting her mother's eyes. "I… I tripped, I stumbled…" she explained quickly, nearly stumbling over her words. "I… I almost fell and Lord Casterbridge was merely helping me regain my balance. That is all. Mother… that is all that happened."

Despite her explanation, the crowd continued to stare—disapproval radiating from each pair of eyes stuck on the pair. No one seemed to know what to say, and a suffocating silence hung heavy in the air.

Geraldine Wentworth was the first to move, her face a mask of barely contained fury as she reached for her daughter's arm, grabbing it and dragging her inside.

"We are leaving," Geraldine said sharply, looking around for her eldest daughter.

"Beatrice!" her voice cracked through the hall like a whip. "We are leaving. Now."

Beatrice, who had been chatting with a group of friends, looked up in confusion—but Caroline could see by her sister's expression that between her mother's fury and Caroline's own mortified expression, that Beatrice understood something was very wrong. She muttered excuses to her friends before joining her mother and sister, her voice low.

"Mother? Caroline? What on earth is going on?"

The countess did not answer—she simply led her daughters to the carriage silently. "Your father had to return home for work," the countess explained coldly. "Thankfully. We are going home. Now."

Beatrice, the only one out of the loop, looked at her family confusedly, but rather than ask questions, she got into the carriage silently.

A heavy, suffocating silence filled the carriage. Caroline could feel the weight of her mother's disappointment permeating the air and she looked down, her lower lip trembling slightly.

"What happened?" Beatrice asked at last, and her mother's gaze snapped towards her youngest daughter.

"Well?" she said sharply, her rage palpable. "Are you going to tell your sister what you did?"

Caroline swallowed dryly, then took a deep breath—bracing herself for the inevitable fallout she knew would follow her admission. "It was a misunderstanding, really," she started, her voice small. "I was outside to get some fresh air, and Lord Casterbridge happened to wander outside… of course we were not going to stay out there alone, it was entirely improper…"

Beatrice looked at her sister coolly and Caroline let out a shuddering breath before she continued. "On our way back to the hall, I… I tripped," she explained. "My heel got caught in my dress and I lost my balance and Lord Sebastian caught me before I could fall, that's all. Really, Beatrice. That is all, I swear."

Geraldine scoffed at this, then shook her head in disbelief. "That is not what it looked like to me," she said icily. "And it is not what it looked like to anyone else who saw you! What we saw, what all of us saw, was you draped over a man, Caroline! Your sister's fiancé, no less!"

Beatrice's eyes widened at that, and her face paled as she looked at Caroline. "Is this true?" she asked, a broken whisper, her voice barely audible over the sound of the carriage wheels.

Caroline looked back at her sister desperately. She could feel her heart sinking at the betrayal and hurt in her sister's eyes. "Beatrice," she pleaded softly, "Please. Please, you have to believe me. It was not like that at all. You know me. You know I would never…"

Geraldine, however, did not allow her daughter to give excuses. "Enough," she exclaimed, her voice rising in anger. "I know what I saw, Caroline. And so did everyone else at the ball! Do you have any idea what this could mean to our family? To your name?"

Caroline felt tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. It was a mere misunderstanding, she wanted to yell. She could not for the life of her understand why no one would believe her.

"Beatrice…" she started again, but for the first time ever, her sister merely turned her head away, her eyes closed.

Caroline looked down at her hands, her fingers entangled on her lap.

It was not fair. She knew without doubt that the ton would be buzzing with gossip about this for weeks—perhaps even months. And Beatrice… oh, Beatrice, she knew, would never forgive her.

The horses whinnied as the carriage came to a stop in front of their estate. Geraldine wasted no time—climbing quickly from the carriage, her nails digging into Caroline's skin as she dragged her daughter inside—Beatrice trailing silently behind.

"Mother…"

Geraldine paid no mind to Caroline's voice, merely dragging her to her father's study, slamming the heavy oak door shut behind them as they entered.

William looked up from his desk and his brow furrowed in confusion at the sight of his wife and daughters. "What is wrong?" he asked immediately, rising to his feet. "What happened?"

"Your daughter," Geraldine exclaimed in a scathing tone, "was caught… in the arms of your other daughter's fiancé, that is what happened."

William looked from Caroline to Geraldine and back to Beatrice slowly.

"Father," Caroline offered meekly, "It was a mere misunderstanding, I tripped and fell…"

William's face grew dark, however, her words seemingly falling on deaf ears. His eyes flashed with anger as he finally settled his gaze on Caroline.

"I have heard stories," he said slowly as he moved to sit down again. "I have heard stories about Sebastian Fairchild. Rumors, I thought. Stories of past dalliances and impropriety. But I had assumed that even if they were true, he would settle down now that he was to marry Beatrice. It seems I was mistaken."

Caroline could feel her heart sinking at her father's words. Of course, she too had heard that Sebastian had quite the reputation—but she had paid it no mind, seeing as he had only ever been the perfect gentleman in their short meetings.

Even if a part of her wished that he'd proven his reputation right.

Still—she was certain that her father would not end the engagement with Beatrice over a silly misunderstanding. However, by the way her father was talking, it seemed that he was already convinced of Sebastian's guilt—and of her own.

She turned to Beatrice now, desperate for her sister to believe her. "Beatrice, please," she begged, reaching out to take her hand. "You know me. You know I would never do anything to hurt you or jeopardize your happiness. Please, you have to believe me."

Beatrice, however, pulled her hand away quickly—her eyes filling with tears as she looked down at her feet, blatantly refusing to Caroline's gaze. It was this rejection, this refusal to listen, that stung far more than any of her mother's harsh words or her father's disappointment.

"Beatrice," she pleaded again, but her sister took a step away from her, closer to their mother.

"Caroline," William spoke at last. "I think it is best if you retire for the night. I shall handle this… incident." His voice was colder than she had ever heard it and Caroline bit down on her lower lip.

She wanted nothing more than to argue, to plead until they believed her. Unfortunately, it was quite evident that anything she'd say would be useless. So, she merely nodded before turning and leaving the study—though she once again came to a halt next to her sister.

"Beatrice, please," she whispered, her voice and eyes filled with tears. "You have to believe me. You have to know that I would never betray you like this. Never. I love you. You are my best friend."

Beatrice shook her head, angry tears appearing in her eyes. "I have heard the whispers about his reputation," she accused. "How he has left a trail of broken hearts and ruined women behind him. Is that what you want, Caroline? To be just another one of his conquests?"

Caroline blinked at the painful sting of the accusation, even as a traitorous part of her shivered at the idea of being seduced by Sebastian.

Beatrice, however, merely shook her head and took another step away from Caroline. "I don't know what to believe anymore," she whispered brokenly, her voice trembling. "I just… I need some time, Caroline. I need you to leave me be. Please."

Caroline let out a shuddering breath before leaving the study and making her way towards her bedchamber slowly. She stripped the dazzling blue gown off and made a quick grab for a nightgown before crawling into her bed, tears stinging behind her eyelids.

How had this happened?

Her hands gripped tightly at the covers as her mind raced with the unfortunate events that had struck over the evening.

First, there was Edward who had acted in a manner completely different from the friend she was used to. Then there was the unfortunate way she had tripped over her own dress—which for her, was not entirely new. Then she was caught in a compromising position with Sebastian Fairchild and she knew without a sliver of doubt that the entire ton would be on fire with the gossip.

She could not entirely blame them. Despite the knowledge that he was her sister's betrothed, the memory of Sebastian's touch haunted her overwrought body. The ghost of his strong hands at her waist, the press of his muscled chest, the intoxicating scent of his skin. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her thighs together, trying in vain to banish the sinful heat that coursed through her blood. She had never before experienced a feeling like that.

Surely, she mused, once Beatrice and Sebastian announced their engagement and were married, this would all blow over? People would see that it was just a misunderstanding, a moment of clumsiness on her part and chivalry on his?

Despite what she told herself, however, there was a nagging voice in the back of her mind, warning her that it might not be that simple at all. The way her father had talked about Sebastian's past, the betrayal in Beatrice's eyes…

And what had her father meant when he said that he would handle it?

She could imagine them now, furious with her. Talking about how she had embarrassed the family, talking about how they would have to save it. Caroline shut her eyes tightly and wrapped her arms around herself.

She lay still, waiting to hear the sound of Beatrice's footsteps as she made her way to her bedchamber. As soon as she heard the tell-tale click of her sister's door closing, Caroline sprang into action. She couldn't bear the thought of Beatrice believing the worst of her, of letting this misunderstanding fester between them.

She padded softly down the hallway, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. When she reached Beatrice's door, she took a deep breath, steeling herself before knocking gently.

"Beatrice?" she called out, her voice barely above a whisper. "Beatrice, please, I need to talk to you. I need to explain what really happened."

There was no response from the other side of the door. Caroline pressed her ear against the wood, straining to hear any sound of movement within. But there was nothing. Just a heavy, suffocating silence.

"Beatrice, I know you're awake," Caroline tried again, a note of desperation creeping into her voice. "Please, just let me in. Let me explain."

Still, there was no answer. Caroline felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, hot and shameful. She knew Beatrice was pretending to be asleep, avoiding her. And who could blame her? After what she had heard, what everyone had seen...

Caroline turned away from the door slowly, her heart heavy. She knew she couldn't force Beatrice to listen, to believe her. Not now, not when the wounds were so fresh. She would have to give her sister time, and hope that eventually she would be willing to hear her out.

Impulsively, she made her way down the stairs towards her father's study. As she stopped in front of the door, a muffled sound caught her attention. Voices—unmistakably her parents'. Despite her knowledge that it was a bad idea, Caroline crept closer, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"...damage control…" her father's strained voice drifted toward her through the closed door. "...no other way…"

Her mother's response was too low to make out, but the tone was unmistakable. Serious. Grave. As if they were discussing a matter of life and death.

Caroline felt a chill run down her spine. Damage control? No other way? What did that mean? What were they planning to do?

A thousand terrible scenarios raced through her mind. Would they send her away, banish her from the family to avoid scandal? Would they blame Sebastian, call off Beatrice's engagement entirely?

She couldn't bear the thought of any of it. Of losing her family, her home, her future. All over a silly mistake, a moment of clumsiness twisted into something sordid by the gossiping tongues of the ton. Hot tears burned beneath her eyelids and she hurried back to her bedchamber, her heart racing wildly.

Once again, she crawled into her bed and pulled the covers up to her chin—as though they could shield her from the uncertainty of what would come.

As much as she tried, Caroline couldn't sleep. Her mind was too full of worries to find rest. For hours, she tossed and turned, the haughty faces of the matrons at the ball staring at her even from the depths of her imagination. The only reprieve from the judgmental stares, were the relentless ways she attempted to rewrite what had happened.

If only she hadn't gone outside for air. If only she had been more careful with her dress, her footing. If only someone, anyone, would believe her when she told them the truth.

The sun was already starting to rise, when Caroline finally drifted into a fitful sleep—her dreams permeated by images of Sebastian.

In her dream, rather than remaining the perfect gentleman, Sebastian backed her up against a wall—his frame crowding into her personal space until she could feel the heat radiating off his body. His piercing green eyes burned into hers, dark with unspoken desire.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he growled, his voice low. "How much I want to touch you, taste you…"

Caroline felt her pulse thundering wildly, her body responding to his proximity with a fierce ache that pooled low in her belly.

Sebastian's large hands skimmed down her sides, his touch leaving trails of fire even through the fabric of her dress. He gripped her hips, pulling her flush against the hard planes of his body. Caroline gasped at the evidence of his desire pressing insistently against her soft curves.

"I can't resist you any longer," Sebastian rasped, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. "Propriety be damned. I need to have you, all of you."

His mouth crashed down on hers in a searing kiss, consuming her with a passion that stole her breath and made her knees weak.

Just as Sebastian's hand had started to bunch up the skirts of her dress, his fingers grazing the bare skin of her thigh and making her tremble with want, Caroline jolted awake—her body still thrumming with the remnants of the dream.

She sat up slowly, pressing a shaky hand to her flushed cheek. Her heart raced and her skin tingled, the ache between her thighs more insistent than ever before. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to banish the lingering images of Sebastian's heated gaze and phantom touch.

It was wrong, she knew, to entertain such scandalous fantasies about her sister's betrothed. But as Caroline rose on unsteady legs to face the day, she couldn't help the small, secret part of her that wished the dream had been real.