12. Caroline

12

Caroline

T he supple white leather of the curved lounge chair was perhaps the most comfortable thing she’d ever rested on, Caroline decided.

And after a full day of double squash, swimming, and then a massage? There was every chance she was going to melt right into it.

Caroline had been terrified when Sian invited her out for what she called a girls’ day. David’s sister certainly knew her own mind, and she’d expected to be steam-rolled by evenfall. Instead, she’d been given a tour of the Colonial Club, a luxurious New York social club created by women, for women.

The private spa room in which they currently relaxed was shaded in a deep ocean blue that reminded her of sunny days on the Berengaria , soaring across the Atlantic, but Caroline thought the Colonial Club may have even exceeded the ship in terms of its opulence.

The chandelier was made of blue diamonds, for heaven’s sake.

“How do you get membership for this club again?” Caroline murmured lazily.

Sian perused the tray of extravagantly decorated chocolates sitting on the table between them. “You have to be recommended by a current member to be accepted as a new one.” She bit into one with an audible crunch—a hazelnut, if Caroline had to guess. “And then there’s an initiation fee, followed by an annual members’ fee. ”

Oh. She had a small trust from her grandmother, but that only provided a modest monthly allowance for items of clothing. Her parents had died penniless, with Holyhead, her childhood home, mortgaged up to its battlements.

It had passed into Oliver’s hands after her mother died, along with all of the debt that came with it. And after his body had been found in the burnt-out gamekeeper’s shelter, everything that had once been his had passed to her.

None of her inheritance had been a blessing. She couldn’t even sell Holyhead—it would only make a loss. The best she’d been able to do was rent it out to some nouveau riche family and hope that the rent covered the estate’s upkeep.

Once Caroline had expressed a desire to marry, Emmeline and her family had been kind enough to give her an additional trust to increase her marriageability. Not that she’d ever accessed it. If her mother’s example had taught her anything, it was that a woman couldn’t depend solely upon her husband financially.

“Do you know how much the members’ fee is?” She couldn’t see it being cheap in a place like this, but she was only being nosy. The last thing she’d squander her limited funds on was club membership

Sian paused, taking another chocolate. “Maybe $100 a year? I can’t recall off the top of my head.”

“Goodness.” Caroline reached over to the chocolate tray, choosing a heart-shaped red one. “Worth it just for the chocolates alone.”

“It totally is. They used to have booze too but obviously that went out of the window with prohibition.” Sian rolled her eyes. “Jobsworths.”

She blinked, taking a few moments to choose whether she wanted to debate the issue. “Isn’t…isn’t your husband one of those jobsworths? ”

“Oh absolutely.” Caroline wasn’t ready for Sian’s unabashed acceptance of the issue. “Although I have managed to prod him over to investigating tainted alcohol alone. But you can’t agree on everything, can you? Sometimes you have to separate the issue from the person. And I love Roscoe.” Sian lowered her voice. “Even if his job is idiotic.”

“Does he know what you think?”

A third chocolate found its way between Sian’s teeth. “I know you don’t know me well, but what part of you thinks I’m capable of keeping an opinion like that to myself?”

Caroline’s attempt to keep a smile off her face was a valiant one, but as soon as she locked eyes with a grinning Sian, she dissolved into giggles.

“Exactly.” Sian laughed. “I do tell him. Frequently. But he’s a man, and foolishness comes with the territory. You can’t tell me Harry has never done anything stupid.”

Caroline snorted. “Harry’s actions were nothing but stupid before he disappeared. And hurtful.”

Rising up onto her elbow, Sian peered over at her. “Wait, he disappeared ? I thought David said he was working.”

Too late, Caroline realised her error. This was why she didn’t like to lie. Quite apart from anything else, she was terrible at it. “I don’t suppose you can forget I said that, can you?” she asked timidly.

She had to credit the endless patience Sian exhibited. “No, but I’m not going to bite. Tell me what happened.”

Caroline fiddled with the fabric of the Colony Club branded dressing gown she wore, her eyes glued to the deep blue carpet. “I come off as being rather stupid.”

“If you know what you did was foolish, then you yourself are not stupid. Stupidity is the failure to learn from one’s actions.”

She let out a small huff of laughter. “Believe me, I know it was foolish.” Hoping David wasn’t going to be furious with her, Caroline nodded. “Very well.”

Caroline told her everything, from meeting Harry at the London party to the night he’d left her at Castell Du'r Arddu. Strangely, though, his abandonment didn’t hurt nearly as much as when she’d last thought of it. Instead of betrayed and humiliated, she simply felt disappointed in herself for being taken in by Harry’s lies.

By the time she’d reached the end of the sorry tale, Sian sat on the edge of the lounge chair, her bare toes scrunched into the carpet and a furious expression on her face. “The wily little bastard,” she muttered. “You must have been very distressed.”

She lifted her shoulders into a shrug. “I was at first. Although I still can’t figure out why he married me if his intention was to run away at the first opportunity.”

“Stupidity.” Sian nodded sagely.

Caroline snorted. “Perhaps. Now I’m just sad about the things I won’t have rather than the love I thought I had for him.”

“Like what?”

“The kind of relationship my cousin Emmeline has with her husband. Sharing a life together, and everything that comes with it. The laughter. The mutual support. The secret glances they share.” Her lips thinned. “The children.”

Sian’s head tilted slightly. “You wanted children?”

“Very much so.” She attempted to swallow the grief away. Emmeline and Michael and Annabelle and Kit had both been blessed with sons last year, with Annabelle’s son Ramsay arriving in July and Emmeline’s son Vincent arriving in September. “My cousin Emmeline has five children, if you can believe it. ”

A laugh. “How…chaotic.”

“Quite.” Caroline flashed a smile. “But so very wonderful at the same time.”

Sian looked dubious, but her lips curved. “You sound like David.”

“Do I?” The thought saddened her. “The mischief they get up to though. You have no idea. It was the kind of environment I wished for my children to grow up in. The noise and the laughter.” A long exhale left her. “What about you? Did you ever wish for children?”

Sian shook her head vehemently, her eyes blowing wide. “Good god, no. I always told David I was born to be a wealthy aunt, and that’s how I’m happiest. Roscoe is one of four brothers, so I have seven nieces and nephews on his side. If I ever want to spend time with a child, I can just rent one of those. And of course there’s Harry…” She trailed off, her tone becoming significantly more disgruntled.

“And then there’s Harry,” Caroline agreed.

Silence fell between them for mere moments before Sian broke it. “What about David?”

A smile came to her face unbidden. “David has been so very kind to me. And patient. And generous.” She gestured around her. “Goodness, he even brought me to New York.”

“You like him,” Sian surmised, her glossy hair shifting as she tilted her chin.

“I do.” Caroline nodded vehemently. “Very much.”

So very much.

More than she should, that was for certain. She definitely shouldn’t be frequently thinking about the evening she’d stumbled in on him naked in the bathroom on the Berengaria . She shouldn’t be thinking about how he looked, or how it made her feel.

Or how she wanted to see him like that again .

Or even how she’d started picturing what he’d look like beneath his clothes whenever she saw him.

“Very much,” she echoed, her words barely audible beneath the guilt. She was fantasising about being intimate with her husband’s father—when the little first-hand knowledge of intimacy she possessed was gained by watching her husband with his mistress.

It was all so incredibly wrong.

Sian interrupted the wave of self-doubt that threatened to drown her. “He likes you too, Caroline.”

“Do you think?”

Sian leant back, delicately tapping her foot with a smile. “I know David far better than he’d care to admit, darling. And with everything you’ve just told me? Yes. ” Her full lips pursed into a pout. “I’d wager that he likes you every bit as much as you like him.”

She doubted that, but gave a polite nod.

Snatching one last chocolate from the tray, Sian stood. “Come. It’s not yet close of business, and I have a modiste I’d like to take you to.”

Caroline leant across the table, raising her voice to be heard above the booming jazz filling every corner of the room. Since they’d entered, however, only one thing was on her mind—and she couldn’t stop herself from frantically looking around for faces she might recognise, squinting to see through the smoky haze. “Is this the club where you heard about my father? ”

Sian waved her worries away with a bejewelled hand. “Oh no, darling. This is a nightclub. That’s over in Harlem.”

Behind her, smartly-dressed waiters appeared carrying their luncheon, swarming the round table at which they sat. She gave a polite smile as the waiter placed hers down in front of her, but it disappeared when the waiter lifted the cloche, unveiling her dish.

Sandwiched between two golden buns sat a circular beef steak—a hamburger.

How in god’s name was she supposed to eat that in a calm, ladylike manner?

The chips she could manage, although Roscoe called them fries. She’d never had chips before arriving at Scarlett Castle; her mother always said they were food only fit for the unwashed masses.

After arriving at Scarlett Castle, however, Emmeline and her family had introduced her to the fish and chip shop in the village, and Caroline had arrived at her own conclusions about her mother.

She took her lead from Sian, hoping beyond hope that David wouldn’t glance over to her at an inopportune moment and find her mouth gaping open like one of the pelicans in St. James’s Park.

She needn’t have worried—because at that precise moment dancers filled the stage, their feather headdresses and sharp bobs bouncing with every step. Her lips parted when she took in their clothes; tight corsets and feather skirts that functioned more as accessories than clothes.

David’s whisper cut across the table, “You didn’t tell me it was a burlesque show.”

“Hush, brother. It’s tame. They wear tassels to cover their nipples at the end.”

Caroline almost choked on a bite of her hamburger. She’d never heard the word nipple used in casual conversation .

“Besides,” Sian said airily, patting her on the back like a sickly child, “it’ll be helpful for Caroline to know how best to woo a man.”

She swallowed, her choking-related tears sizzling as they slid down her burning cheeks. “If you say so.”

“Burlesque is about women empowering themselves by taking control of their bodies, by enjoying their bodies. And it’s true, it makes you feel good about yourself. Trust me, I’ve had classes.”

Caroline turned her head so fast she cricked her neck. “ Really ?”

“Really.” Sian nodded. “It’s a lot more work than it looks. I was exhausted by the end of it.”

By the end of the show, Caroline saw the truth in Sian’s words. From comedy to dancing to an acrobatic performance, the performers had to be truly exhausted.

And truth be told, Caroline had rather enjoyed it.

She’d grown up terrified to wear anything too revealing, lest she catch the eye of her father, but those women on the stage simply owned their sexuality—and had a jolly good time doing so. Today, she’d chosen to wear a full-length gown in warm hues of plum and bronze; it was one of her more reserved choices length-wise, but the open back left her feeling more exposed than she’d intended.

As they finally left the club, they joined the legion of people chatting animatedly about the performance. She sucked in a breath as David’s hand touched her bare spine, guiding her towards the exit.

That was all it took for her brain to go down the well-trodden path to impure thoughts about her husband’s father.

What would it feel like to have those hands touch her all over?

Ahead of them, Roscoe barked out a distinctly American laugh at something his wife had said, leaning over to kiss her temple as they crossed the club’s threshold .

As they exited onto the wide concrete pavement littered with cigarette butts, David cleared his throat. “I apologise for not warning you in advance it was a burlesque show, Caroline.”

“Don’t be. I actually really enjoyed it,” she replied truthfully. Her mother would be rolling in her grave faster than a spinning top, and Caroline cared not a jot. “Sian was right. It was nice to see women being so…brazen about their femininity.”

New York’s streets usually contained a mixture of cars and horse-drawn cabs, but only the former could be seen outside the glamorous nightclub. Yellow-and-black taxis lined the street in front of them, eagerly waiting to part wealthy patrons from their cash. The dull light of the overcast afternoon meant a few of them had their headlights turned on, illuminating the front of the nightclub beyond even the light offered by the glowing signs above their heads.

“Roscoe and I are going to go home early,” Sian announced, an impish glow in her eyes. “Would you mind taking Caroline to her appointment at the lingerie shop, David? Perhaps afterwards you could take her across Central Park? You can show her the carousel.”

“Appointment?” Caroline asked, her eyes on David’s now-ashen complexion. At the lingerie shop?

“Sian,” David muttered, his gaze unusually fervent. “I can’t…”

“I had a surprise organised for you, darling. My treat. Remember to buy some undergarments for the cocktail party I’m throwing for you both before you leave.” Sian touched her hand, before being pulled into a cab by Roscoe. “Don’t rush back though.” She gave them a parting wink before the taxi driver closed the door.