3. Caroline

3

Caroline

C aroline whipped round to face the intruder, her mother’s horror stories of merciless robbers and murderers appearing in the night rushing to the forefront of her mind.

Instead of a monster from her nightmares, she found a man who looked every bit as shocked to see her as she was to see him. He had the broad frame of a raider but the dark, windswept hair of a work of art. A few damp strands clung to his forehead as he frowned at her. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was…bewildered.

She shrunk back from him, more aware than ever that she was in a translucent nightgown one of the servants had found for her. “Who are you?” she whispered. Was this how she was going to die? Outside her husband’s bedroom whilst he was occupied with her lady’s maid?

Behind her, the bedroom door opened, throwing golden light onto the two of them. Harry filled the gap, blinking in disbelief at the scene before him and wrapping a dressing gown around himself. It gaped open at the torso. An hour ago, the sight of his bare chest would have sent her into a chorus of sighs—but now it just hurt . “David? I thought you’d left for New York.”

An element of reassurance filled her. Harry knew this man, whoever he was. Perhaps she wasn’t going to be murdered .

“I had,” David replied, his brows pulling down before landing back on Harry. “But I’m going to need you to explain what’s going on here.”

Harry seethed out a breath, blocking out the bedroom behind him. “Caroline, this is my father. David, this is Caroline, my wife.”

His father?!

“I’m sorry, your wife ?”

Horror rooted her to the spot. This was how she was meeting her father-in-law. In tears, with a broken heart, wearing a borrowed nightgown. She crossed a shaky arm over her breasts, her cheeks firing with embarrassment as much as they were soaked with tears and humiliation.

But then, a thread of coldness seized her, as though her mother’s ghost had taken control of her vocal cords. It wasn’t as though her mother hadn’t known what this felt like; her father had strayed with every woman he could get his hands on. “And why don’t you introduce the mistress currently hiding in your bedroom, husband ? Just so we’re all on the same page. It is our wedding night, after all. What better time for introductions?”

Harry stared at her, his eyes widening before settling into an intense glare.

David stepped forward, his broad shoulders making the corridor feel thin. “Is that true?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Harry answered coldly.

His father let out a tired-sounding laugh, gesturing around them. “You’ve made this my business, Harry. This is my home, and I arrive in the dead of night to find out that not only have you married , but you’ve broken your marital vows before the ink is even dry. This is beyond the pale, even for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry snarled .

David ran his hand through his damp hair, revealing a vein of silver in the centre. “It means I thought you were in danger of losing control of your life before, but clearly, control has well and truly passed us by.”

“You know what, I don’t have to listen to this. We’re leaving.” Harry pointed in the direction of her bedroom. “Go and pack, Caroline. Meet me—”

“Pack what?” She laughed. It was a freezing February night, and he wanted her to leave ? He wanted to put her back in that damnable car after all this? “My singular outfit is being washed, so all I have to wear is a borrowed nightgown.”

His father stepped in, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder as he gave a weary sigh. “None of you are going anywhere in this storm. Stay the night, at the very least, and then we can sort out this mess in the morning.”

Harry stared hatefully at his father for a long moment before coming to a decision—that amounted to slamming his bedroom door and throwing the lock, leaving her in a darkened corridor with her father-in-law.

David was the first to move, the light catching the dark stubble on his cheek. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

With her husband out of sight, Caroline’s strength left her in a great rush. Because what was going to happen in the morning?

Her new life would begin, the wife of a philandering husband.

A path she’d sworn to never step foot on.

“I’m quite well, thank you,” she whispered, hoping her voice wouldn’t crack. She rushed off in the direction of the room she’d slept in before he could see the tears welling in her eyes.

She’d made her bed. Now she had to lie in it.