20. Caroline

20

Caroline

“ I s that his willy ?”

On the cracked muddy track near Scarlett Castle, Caroline coughed herself back to reality. Dougie and William were a short distance ahead of her and Emmeline, but the two of them had paused. Dougie pointed into the pale green paddock that ran along the track, his little finger aimed at the singular horse inhabiting it.

“It is!” William cried, jumping onto the grassy verge and poking his head through the fence. He giggled, sharing a delighted look with his twin. “Mama, look. Look! It’s his willy.”

Emmeline nodded, her lips curving in faint revulsion. “Yes, darling, I can see it.”

“Why is it half black, half pink?” Dougie asked with wide-eyed fascination.

Caroline refused to look, concentrating solely on her next step. And the next. If she looked up, she would laugh, and she had long since learnt that if she laughed at something Dougie and William said, she would be hearing it to the end of her days.

“I’m not sure. Perhaps you can ask McNally the next time you see him. Or Papa. I’m sure he’ll have an answer for you.”

William fired off the next question. “Why is it so big?”

Emmeline carried on down the path, her walking boots carefully navigating between the ruts on the road. “Because he’s a horse. Horses are big.” She waved her hand as she passed her sons, both peering between the fence’s horizontal wooden rails. “Come on, the castle is just at the end of the road here. Mrs Kirkpatrick will have luncheon ready for you.”

That, thankfully, was motivation enough. William and Dougie raced ahead, their little feet kicking up the dust of summer.

It was only when they were out of earshot that Emmeline heaved a sigh of relief, shooting Caroline an amused glance. “I thought raising Dora had prepared me for more children.” She shook her head. “Boys are another thing altogether, I tell you. They’re obsessed with genitals. Their genitals, especially. It’s lunacy. At first it was just touching it but then they discovered they could wiggle it around with their hips and god , I’ve seen things I never wanted to see.”

Caroline embedded her teeth into her bottom lip to suppress her laughter, but in the end she couldn’t hold it in. “So be prepared is what you’re saying?”

“Quite.” Emmeline laughed, her eyes following her sons as they left the rutted track for the shingle road ahead.

To her left lie the Pond Cottage, a pretty building drenched in thriving pink carnations, but ahead was Scarlett Castle itself. They’d approached from the rear, entering the wide, symmetrical garden terrace carving the landscape into neat pathways lined with stone balustrades and manicured hedging. The doors to the morning room had been thrown open, spilling its occupants out onto the paving.

William and Dougie charged down the main thoroughfare of the terrace, sighting a game of bowls being played on a particularly level section of the lawn. Deep scarlet bowls were sprinkled across the grass, all clustered around the smaller white ball—the jack. From experience, Caroline knew Dora was particularly adept at bowls, but Mary gave her a run for her money.

“Don’t knock the bowls, boys!” Michael called, running to intercept them before they caused too much havoc. He scooped the two of them up with ease, loading one twin in each arm and depositing them beneath the garden pavilion beside Mrs Simpkin, Phina’s grandmother.

“We saw the horse’s willy!” one of them piped up. Caroline thought it might have been William.

Alex snorted, the movement throwing his roll off course.

“Mama said we should ask you about it,” Dougie provided helpfully.

“Did she now?” Michael sent a raised eyebrow over to where Emmeline and Caroline stood. “I’ll have to thank her for that.”

“Wait.” Emmeline stopped Caroline from going any farther with a gentle hand on her upper arm. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Caroline’s heartbeat quickened, residual panic setting in. The familiar what had she done wrong feeling was a vestigial remnant of her upbringing. “Oh?”

For a moment, Emmeline simply bit her plump bottom lip. “You mentioned yesterday you haven’t seen Harry since the day you married.”

“Quite.” She gave an awkward, self-deprecating grimace.

“But that was months ago. Six of them, to be precise.” Emmeline tilted her head, giving her an assessing glance. “You also said you didn’t think you were pregnant—and that he made you wait weeks to consummate your marriage.”

The gravel beneath her feet shifted. She had never been a good liar. Mother had been, but subterfuge didn’t come naturally to Caroline. “Yes.” She swallowed, noticing Jake on the terrace, nudging the twins back towards the pavilion as they tried to sneak off .

“A pregnancy would be obvious by now.” Emmeline looked over to the bowls match to ensure they were truly alone. “So you’ve been sleeping with someone , Caroline, but I don’t think that someone is your husband.”

The accusation hung in the air, solidifying in the distance between them. Her eyes sank to the floor, unable to bear its weight. Infidelity was a sobering topic for Emmeline, whose first husband—Michael’s older brother—had been unfaithful to her.

Caroline opened her mouth, but nothing except a choking sound came out.

She jumped as Emmeline took her hand, giving her a soft, encouraging squeeze. “I’m not going to judge you, sweetheart. If your marriage was never consummated, then it’ll be a great deal easier to obtain an annulment. I’m just…concerned, is all. You’ve been through an awful lot this year.”

“Perhaps,” Caroline agreed, chancing a peek up at her cousin. “But it’s my own doing.”

“You thought you loved Harry. ‘Twas not your fault he had ulterior motives.” Emmeline’s gaze was steady. “Is your lover who I think it is?”

The weight of her guilt was heavy on her shoulders—heavy to bear without the man she loved at her side. “I didn’t plan it,” she whispered. “ We didn’t plan it.”

“I married my husband’s brother.” Emmeline’s voice was gentle, as it always was. “I’m in no position to judge.”

“It’s not like you were still married to Theo at the time. You had been a widow for years when you and Michael fell in love.” Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, a knot tightening in her gut. “I was unfaithful to my husband—with his own father , nonetheless.”

“May I ask how long it took for you to be intimate with each other?”

The memories of David undoing the corset on her dress after Sian’s cocktail party came to the fore. “The first time we kissed was the night before we boarded the ship to come home.”

Emmeline recoiled in surprise. “The ship you just departed from?”

Caroline nodded.

“And then on the ship you…” Emmeline waved her hand vaguely, just as the telephone rang—a distant chiming from within the castle. She digested the news, pulling her lips to the side. “Well, that does make me feel better about the situation. I was worried he’d taken advantage of you in the weeks after Harry absconded.”

“Not at all. David is…” A smile came to her face, unbidden. “He’s wonderful. At first he wouldn’t admit it—his feelings. Then he acknowledged our feelings for one another but said we must learn to live with them. Then, you know .”

“Yes, I believe I do. What feelings has he admitted to, precisely?”

I am yours, Starling. As you are mine.

She felt shy admitting it to Emmeline, wanting to snatch it and keep it close to her heart, but in the end she relented. “He says I am the great love he’s always wanted.”

Emmeline looked towards the bowling green as a cheer went up—Phina’s. “What happens after the annulment? Has he made you any promises?”

A thread of discomfort made itself known, because David hadn’t made her any promises. “He says that’s for me to decide.”

Perhaps the confidence Caroline tried to project into her voice stuttered, because Emmeline didn’t look reassured. “And if you decide upon something he doesn’t want?”

The sharp, decisive crunch of footsteps along the gravel path halted their conversation, and Caroline turned to see Granville marching towards them, the cut of his tailcoat as sharp as the parting in his salt-and-pepper hair. “Lady Caroline,” he began. “There’s a gentleman on the telephone for you from Menai House.”

A wave of relief almost laid her out flat. She had become so used to David’s company over the past few months that all the colours of life seemed to drain away without him, and she was desperate to get them back. She didn’t bother to conceal the excited smile or the bounce in her step as she raced past the bowls match and into the castle. The glass dome above Scarlett Castle’s Atrium allowed the heat of the summer to reach her even here, but soon she entered the tranquillity of Michael’s office.

Caroline seized the phone off Michael’s desk. “Bore da, David,” she said flirtatiously, remembering his Welsh lessons.

“Your pronunciation could use some work, but I suppose that’s technically a greeting,” a voice snarked back at her—and not the one she’d been expecting. “ Bore da, Caroline .”

Recognition prickled within her, quickly backed up with a rush of anger. “What do you want, Harry?”

“To let you know that I signed the nullity application, you’re welcome.” Harry’s voice was faint, as though somewhere along the line there was a loose connection. “The solicitors are coming straight to Scarlett Castle next—if they’re not there already. All you need to do is sign the document.”

“Funnily enough, I remember the last time all you said I had to do was sign a document , and I’ve woken up regretting it every day since. If you think I’m going to believe anything you say then you’ve lost your sodding mind. Put David on the phone.”

There was a pause. “David’s upstairs.”

“Then I suggest you go and get him,” she retorted. “I want him to tell me whether or not I need to sign something. ”

The clink of something metallic rattled down the telephone line. A cigarette lighter, perhaps? Harry’s subsequent inhale confirmed it. “I did intend to pay it back, you know. The money I took from your trust.”

Having the apology tossed at her so carelessly didn’t endear her towards forgiveness. “I was stupid to trust someone like you in the first place.”

“Na?ve, perhaps, but we were all na?ve once, Caroline.” Another inhale. “I was stupid to trust a tallyman when I couldn’t pay my gambling debts, for instance.”

“What’s a tallyman?” she asked, not familiar with the term.

Harry gave a short, amused exhale. “A backstreet moneylender. Truly, I must compliment your innocence. This particular tallyman is not best known for his temperament, however.”

“You’re right,” she conceded sharply. “That was stupid.”

“Indeed,” he agreed. “Unfortunately, David arrived just as the moneylender was motivating me, shall we say, to pay the remainder of the debt.”

Caroline’s fingers tightened around the telephone’s candlestick, her knuckles standing out in sharp relief against the dark brass. “ And ?” she bit out.

“He’s fine. Really—as we speak, he’s having quiche Lorraine for luncheon.” Harry sighed, sounding as though he was tiring of the conversation. “We didn’t even realise he was hurt until the tallyman had left. It’s a small scratch on his leg. A couple of stitches. He just can’t handle stairs for another week. That’s all.”

She had never been an angry sort of person, but in that moment she understood what might have drove someone to murder. “I’m coming up to London. And then I’m going to flay you alive,” she promised calmly, her head clearer than it had been in days .

“I really don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Caroline, wait!” Alex yelled from behind her.

She paid no attention to her godfather, flinging open the door of his still-moving Bentley. She stumbled onto the grey pavement outside of Menai House, catching herself on the wrought iron railings curving out from the front door and spilling down the steps.

Hammering on the door with a clenched fist, the thundering engine behind her disengaged as Alex began the process of switching it off. She caught a glimpse of her reflection as Menai House’s front door opened.

Where Caroline expected a butler, Harry stood. Beneath the grotesquely swollen purple eye, he wore a loosely buttoned dress shirt that looked as though he might have slept in it.

She let her palm fly, striking his unshaven cheek with as much strength as she could summon, black eye be damned. His head whipped to the side, the slap echoing through the entrance hall. “Where is he?” she snarled, hearing Alex’s steps approaching.

Harry stepped back, sweeping his arm in mock welcome. “Fourth floor, my lady .”

“Fuck you,” she spat, storming across the dark wood flooring lining the entrance hall. She made short work of climbing the first flight of stairs, the stair runner a gleaming ribbon of emerald silk under her pumps .

Her palm stung as she climbed. Up until two weeks ago, she’d never slapped anyone in her life—or sworn at them. Goodness, she’d never sworn at all until she’d been sent to live with Emmeline at Scarlett Castle.

Portraits and photographs rushed by, and she sighted David’s likeness in more than a few. One of the most notable was a photograph of a man she presumed to be David at the Great Pyramids of Giza, but she didn’t stop to confirm.

Particularly as she could have sworn she’d just heard his voice. “David?” she responded, projecting her voice slightly. Had she gone up three flights of stairs or four?

A head popped out over the banisters of the next floor as she tried to remember, but it wasn’t David. “Lady Caroline, I hope?”

“Yes,” she panted. The elderly man’s suspicious expression vanished. She assumed he was the butler given that he wore a morning coat rather than a footman’s livery. “Where is he?”

“Lord Menai? He’s up here, my lady.”

Her calves twinged with displeasure at the speed she took the stairs, but Caroline ignored them.

Standing in front of a mullioned window, the apparent butler directed her towards one of the three corridors splitting off the landing. God, this house was a maze. “Last door on the left, my lady.”

Caroline sped down the corridor, catching glimpses of the bursting summer greenery of Grosvenor Square—or at least the tops of the trees within it. She debated knocking, but her hands decided before her brain, throwing the door open with a desperate flourish.

David looked up at the noise, his dark eyes flaring in surprise. He sat in a large chesterfield armchair swathed in white leather, a dressing gown sweeping around his body, with his right leg propped up on a matching pouffe. A newspaper filled his hands, but he carelessly placed it on a coffee table to his right, where it took up residence beside medicinal bottles, gauzes, and a small pile of folded flannels. “Starling,” he chided, a smile illuminating his weary expression. He discarded his glasses with absent-minded ease. “I didn’t expect you to arrive until tomorrow.”

She locked the door behind her and hurried over. “If you truly thought I wouldn’t rush to your side the moment I heard you were injured, then you’re as much of a fool as your son.”

Her heart positively devoured his grin, flickering to life once more. “Sit.” He patted the arm of the chair.

Caroline sat, frantic. “I need to see your injury. Tell me everything. Are you going to be all right?”

“I need to stay off my feet until Friday at the earliest, but the doctor is returning daily to look out for signs of infection. It’s a small laceration to my thigh—just nicked one of the muscles there, apparently. I’ll show it to you the next time I change the bandages, but I’ll be fine ,” he murmured gently, giving her a knowing look. “It’s an inconvenience, not a death sentence.”

She rested her palm against his jaw. There was more stubble there than he usually wore, digging into her skin. “I missed you so very much.” Six months ago, David was a stranger to her, but now his presence had become as essential as breathing.

His chocolate eyes softened, melting into an affectionate smile. “I missed you too.” He pulled her closer, his mouth meeting hers in a kiss that felt both patient and ravenous, appeasing and igniting—until, eventually, he withdrew. “Did you come alone?”

“Alex brought me. He has a meeting with the owner of some medical company tomorrow. He wants me to stay at his home on Pall Mal—”

“No,” David ruled it out immediately, taking her hand. “You stay here. With me . Your godfather is free to remain if he feels the need. ”

She winced, remembering the other occupant of this house. “I don’t know how happy Harry would be about me staying.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “Especially when I may or may not have slapped him on my way in.”

To her surprise, he let out a smooth laugh. His fingers brushed over hers, almost engulfing them completely. “After everything that’s gone on between you, I can’t say I blame you. But maybe give him a few weeks for his ribs to heal before you enact your next round of revenge.” His eyebrow hitched at her parted lips. “He didn’t tell you?”

“I didn’t ask. I had more pressing concerns.” She ran a finger across the edge of his prickled jaw.

“So do I. Did you sign the nullity application before you left Scarlett Castle?”

With an excited smirk, she nodded. “It arrived just before we were about to leave.” Unlike the last time she’d signed a contract, Caroline actually read this one—as did Michael and Alex, to ensure everything met their requirements.

A relieved inhale lifted his broad shoulders. “Good. The solicitors should have a court date in the next couple of weeks. All that’s needed on our end is for Harry to send over the marriage certificate before then.”

Uncertainty wove its spindly fingers into her thoughts. “He hasn’t done that already?”

“It’s stored in the family vault beneath the lower cellar, according to Harry.” David allowed a wry smirk to escape. “I’m sure he could handle the stairs, albeit slowly, but the final level is accessible only by ladder. Neither of us are particularly up to it at present, but he’ll get it as soon as he can.”

Caroline would rather the marriage certificate was sent off as soon as possible. “Well, I can fetch it,” she offered. “Do you have a key?”

“It’s a dial lock.” He tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. “The code is the date of birth of my great-grandmother’s childhood spaniel, would you believe? I’ve never known the dog’s name, but I know his date of birth. Twenty-first of December 1794. Twenty-one, twelve, ninety-four. Get Arrowsmith to show you where the trapdoor is—on the condition that Alex goes down the ladder first.”

A frown wrinkled her forehead. “Why?”

“To ensure it hasn’t rotted away,” he responded, his grin wickedly handsome.

She pursed her lips. “You’re terrible.”

Humming his agreement, he brought her in for a brief, chaste kiss. “It’s a price I’m willing to pay to keep you safe.”

“I’m surprised you gave away the code to your family vault so easily.”

David effected a casual shrug. “You already have my heart, Caroline. There is nothing you could take from me that I would not willingly give you.”

Knitting their fingers together, she held them against her heart. “I told Emmeline about us.”

“Was she angry at you?” His eyes flicked between hers, his free hand coming to lay across her thighs.

She shook her head. “Not at all. I would say she was more…concerned. She wants to know what’s going to happen next.”

“And have you decided what that is, my love?”

The question was loaded with unseen possibilities, but even now the fear of rejection loomed. “Emmeline was worried what would happen if I chose something that you didn’t want.”

It was perhaps underhanded to use Emmeline’s words instead of asking the question herself—or even telling him outright—but Caroline’s personality wasn’t as strong as Effie’s or Annabelle’s. They had that solid bedrock of a loving childhood on which to base their personalities. A certain confidence came with it, she’d found. There would always be that part of her that would doubt her own mind, and Emmeline had confided in Caroline that she felt much the same. Beneath all their decisions lay a crumbling foundation, whether they liked it or not. All they could do was underpin it the best they could.

They weren’t weaker, but they were made different by it. The same way an old injury would twinge in the cold.

As though he sensed her hesitation, David brought her hand to his lips, pressing a careful kiss on her finger—her ring finger. “If you love me as I love you, then I am certain our desires are aligned.” The edge of his mouth twitched. “Although it is perhaps an indelicate question to ask when you’re still married to my son.”

The buzz of excitement went through her like a bolt of lightning. Was he hinting at asking her what she thought he was? “And an indelicate one to accept,” she whispered, her voice hushed with emotion.

A victorious smile broke out across his face. “Then I promise to ask it when your annulment is finalised.”