Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

I f silence is what you want, then silence is what you will get.

Caroline simmered in the corner of the carriage as the hours rolled by. The church had been close to Dickie's residence of Greenfield House, but with the change in groom, the journey had been painfully extended, taking them to Harewood Court instead.

But as time passed, the silence thickened, and some semblance of reason came back to her overwhelmed mind, she began to feel a little bit guilty about the things she had said to Max.

He probably had saved her, but it would take quite some time before she could think of it in that way.

She was about to open her mouth and attempt to extend an olive branch when the carriage turned through a set of high iron gates, topped with gray angels who had their stone heads bowed.

So soon? Her heart lurched into her throat.

The carriage bumped and rattled down a long driveway, flanked by pleasantly curved cypress trees that wafted an earthy, pleasant scent into the gloomy space. Immaculate lawns stretched out in all their emerald glory, bordered by woodland on one side, and what appeared to be a lake glimmering on the other side. Not as pretty as Westyork, but nothing to sniff at.

The house itself was a large Tudor-style manor of rusty red brick, interrupted by dark wooden beams and crosshatched windows that glinted in the dull afternoon light. Eerie and gloomy compared to the warm and welcoming sandstone of Westyork, or so Caroline thought. But probably quite fitting for the newly married couple who would reside there together.

"I hope your cook will not be put to any trouble for the wedding breakfast," Caroline said, her voice sounding strange after so much quiet.

Max did not look at her as he answered, "I doubt it. She barely cares about an ordinary breakfast."

His sarcasm irked her, but she would not let him see that.

"Will I meet the staff today?" she proceeded.

"Unless they decide to hide, I expect so."

Prior to the wedding, Amelia had instructed Caroline as to what she could anticipate from her new household: how she would be expected to meet all of the staff and make a good impression, how the staff would expect her to take control of the domestic affairs, and how, in due course, she would be expected to host balls and dinner parties to increase her favor in society.

Caroline had not paid as much attention as she should have done, considering she had had no intention of getting married that day. Now, she wished she had listened more intently.

"I suppose they will not be anticipating a duchess," Caroline said, her stomach lurching at the realization that she was a duchess now.

The carriage came to a halt, and without answering, Max got out. Caroline waited for him to help her down with as much decorum as she could muster, but he did not reappear, merely leaving the door open for her to exit of her own accord. And with that act, any thought she might have had about apologizing for her earlier remarks disappeared.

"Your Grace." A footman came to the door, clearly as bewildered as she was.

He bowed and offered his hand to help her out.

Caroline put on a smile and took the proffered hand. "Thank you. For a moment, I feared I might have to stay in this carriage all day, awaiting permission to alight."

The footman smiled back but said nothing more as he let go of her hand and bent into a deeper bow.

Apparently, she was to enter this strange, unfamiliar house all by herself. There would be no doting husband to scoop her up and carry her across the threshold. There would be no shy giggles and gentle whispers of affection over tea and cakes, to refresh themselves after the journey. There would be no warmth, no holding of hands, no discreet touch to the small of her back as her loving husband showed her around her new residence.

Those dreams belonged to the Caroline of a week or so ago, who had not yet made the mistake of following Dickie to the study.

"Are you not entering, Your Grace?" the footman asked after a few minutes.

Caroline had not moved, splitting her concentration between the spooky manor and the white gravel of the driveway. Her family and friends ought to be arriving at any moment, for they had left immediately after the newlyweds, and she knew she would feel better if she had them at her side.

"I am going to wait for a while," Caroline replied, taking herself down the flower-bordered front of the manor to where a bench looked out on the estate.

She sat down, surrounded by the sweet fragrance of the wildflowers, admiring the bright colors of the poppies and violets and yellow St. John's Wort—an excellent flower with many medicinal properties, according to Matilda's latest book about common herbs and plants, which Caroline had devoured in the fitting gardens of Westyork.

It can be brewed to ease melancholy, she remembered, thinking of all the books and precious belongings that were yet to be packed at her former home. As she had not thought she would be anyone's wife today, she had asked the staff to wait until ‘after the honeymoon.' A gross oversight, now that she was the Duchess of Harewood, with nothing in her possession but the gown she was wearing.

"Are you waiting for something in particular, Your Grace?" the footman asked anxiously, his gaze flitting to the manor entrance. Perhaps, he too was expecting Max to come back to see his wife inside.

Caroline smiled sweetly. "My family."

"Very good, Your Grace." The footman seemed to relax and gave a nod to the driver.

The carriage wheeled around, taking another path around the side of the manor and disappearing out of sight. To the coach house and the stables, most likely, but the absence of it was a swift kick to Caroline's chest. Out in the countryside like this, a carriage was her only means of being anywhere else, and without it nearby, she began to panic once more.

I cannot do this. I should not have agreed. I should have fled when I had the chance.

She plucked a daisy that grew by the front leg of the bench, and steadfastly, rhythmically began to pick off each white petal.

"By the time I am done, my family will arrive," she whispered. A habit she had possessed for as long as she could remember, placing the fate of this or that in the hands of something altogether unrelated.

That morning, she had said to herself, "If it rains at ten o'clock exactly, Dickie will do as I asked." It had already been raining by the time the clock struck ten, and she had taken that as a good sign. What she had neglected to ask fate was to ensure that no other grooms stepped up in his place.

Focusing on the daisy until the tight panic in her chest began to loosen, she looked up as she plucked the very last petal.

Her heart soared with relief as a horse and rider charged through the gates of Harewood Court, tearing down the driveway at breakneck speed, kicking up mud and gravel as they went.

"Evan!" Caroline cheered, rising to meet the blissfully familiar rider.

But Evan's face did not reflect Caroline's relief. "I am sorry, Caro."

"Sorry? For what?" Caroline gripped the plucked daisy in her fist, digging her fingernails into her palm.

Evan jumped down, rushing to pull her into a brotherly embrace. "They are not coming, my dear girl," he murmured. "There was an accident not ten minutes after the carriage left the church."

"An accident?" Caroline yelped, her heart dropping like a stone.

"Everyone is well, but the carriage was all but ruined. Daniel has returned to Westyork to fetch a replacement, and the ladies have gone back to the church to wait," Evan explained. "Percival volunteered to ride to you to inform you of the unfortunate news, but I knew you would prefer to hear it from me."

Caroline clung onto the man who had been like a brother to her, all her life. "But you will stay, will you not?"

She felt, rather than heard, Evan's remorseful sigh.

"I cannot, sweet Caro. We did not want to mention it, but… Olivia is with child again. She was shaken by the accident but told me to ride to you. However, I cannot leave her in her condition. I will be scolded for leaving you, and I am so very sorry to do it, but… I will not be good company if I cannot be where she is, ensuring she is well."

Caroline pulled back, peering up at Evan's pale face. Worry danced in his eyes. Worry and abiding love for the woman who was waiting for him, carrying the baby that, with all the luck in the world, would be their third child together. There was a glint of sorrow in those eyes for Caroline, too. The regret and hesitation of a true brother, even if he was technically just her cousin.

"Of course, you must go," Caroline said, forcing as much courage into her voice as possible. "Olivia needs you, and I will not stand in the way of that. Truly, I shall be quite content exploring all of these… extensive grounds, and I have a household to discover and staff to meet. Do not worry at all about me!"

Evan's brow furrowed. "Are you certain?"

"Goodness, I do not know why you are still standing here talking to me when that darling woman is waiting for you," Caroline insisted, giving him a friendly shove in the chest. "Go on. Go to her. And give her my fondest wishes for her and the baby."

The creases that ridged Evan's brow softened. "I really am sorry to have to leave, and to be the bearer of such bad news."

" Bad news?" Caroline barked out a laugh. "I am delighted! Not by the accident, of course, but to hear that you will be a father again and Olivia is to be a mother again and my darling nephew and niece will have a sister or brother to look forward to. I cannot wait to be an auntie again. Indeed, tell Olivia that I shall write soon and send her a gift of congratulations when I have won favor with the housekeeper or the butler, or whoever manages such things."

Evan hugged her once more, giving her a tight squeeze for good measure. He could not have known just how much Caroline needed it in that moment, as every jittering nerve in her body screamed at her to ask Evan to stay. For as soon as he left, she knew she would be well and truly alone.

"Away with you," she whispered, with her last shred of bravery.

Evan pulled away and, with an apologetic smile, returned to his horse. He climbed up into the saddle and paused there for a short while, clearly contemplating whether or not he was doing the right thing.

"I promise, I shall be perfectly fine," Caroline urged. "Indeed, I shall be very cross if you do not ride back to your wife this instant. I insist."

With a nod, Evan turned his horse around. But before he rode off, he glanced back over his shoulder, leaving her with a few parting words. "Take care of yourself, dear Caro. I know this is not the day you were expecting but see if you cannot find happiness in what you have been dealt." He hesitated. "Even those of us who are now utterly in love did not always think we would be happy. Remember that, in difficult moments."

"I will," she said, raising her hand to wave him off.

And, with that, he urged his horse into a lope and charged away.

If he looks back before he reaches the gates, things will not be as bad as they seem.

Caroline did not move, willing him to look back at her as he thundered on down the driveway, kicking up pebbles of white gravel. She urged him and urged him, her heart in her throat, but he passed through the gates and turned onto the road, fading out of her sight.

He did not look back, not once.