Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

A s Caroline strolled through the streets of London, she felt as though she had awakened with the world a little brighter, and it was easy to see everything from her newfound perspective. Perhaps London itself had not changed, but she had changed, which she hoped was for the better, and forever.

She walked by men and women, the old and the young, both wealthy and less so, all tipping their hats or nodding in passing, offering a chipper greeting or wishing her a Merry Christmas. She knew London was not a place filled with horrible people, though a few bad apples were to be expected, as with every place. But most importantly, she knew for certain that this was no longer the place she belonged. London was not her home. Her heart belonged back in Hamstead.

She had already been plenty busy since her return to the bustling city. She had gone to visit the graves of her parents and gave them a final goodbye. From all her lessons learned of the past, she had no desire to linger and wallow in it any longer. Then she had gone to her estate agent and discussed the selling of her townhome. He had been quite surprised and tried to dissuade her, but Caroline would not be talked out of her opinion. If she did return someday in the future, she could always rent if needed. Her permanent home would be far away from here.

Caroline had no close friends or family that required a visit, which made it much easier for her to come and go as she pleased. There was a lovely spirit of Christmas in the crisp December air, one that she longed to enjoy, but she had one more bit of business to complete.

It was just days until Christmas Eve, and there was still much to do, but Caroline had opted for taking London by foot, since most of her stops were all nearby in Mayfair.

She walked past St. George’s church, which most people ignored as they strolled past since the day was not Sunday, but Caroline found herself drawn to it. Or perhaps more to the two young children who were standing outside on the side corner, singing Christmas hymns and holding out a cannister for donations. Caroline paused to listen, examining the young pair, no doubt a brother and sister, as they perfectly delivered their humbling rendition of The First Noel. They sung in a lovely harmony, and it pricked Caroline’s heart, remembering that this song had been Martha’s favored hymn when they had gone caroling.

Once they finished the verse, Caroline dug in her reticule for her change purse, grabbed all the pennies she possessed, and dumped them into the cannister with a cheerful clinking.

The boy pulled off his hat swiftly. “Thank you kindly, mum. And Merry Christmas to you.”

The girl bobbed in a curtsy, offering a weak smile. “Merry Christmas.”

“And to you as well.” Caroline smiled in return, and though she was ready to leave and continue on her way, she couldn’t help but notice how threadbare their clothes were. It reminded her of the Dilber children, and of Martha’s thin dress and coat, barely protecting her from the snow. The memory made her flinch, pulling her cloak a little tighter around her neck.

“You have a very nice robe, mum,” the boy offered.

The girl elbowed him. “It’s a cloak, you half-wit.”

Caroline couldn’t help but laugh, for how they reminded her of her relationship with her own half-wit brother. And suddenly, she was rushed with an idea. She had promised to make a difference to those in need, and she would start right here and now.

Picking up the hem of her cloak, she offered it out to them. “Here, touch my robe. It’s very fine, is it not? A nice warm velvet. Do you like it?”

They both rubbed their fingers over the fabric, nodding as if in a trance.

Then without a second thought, she tugged on the string at her neck to loosen the cloak from her shoulders. She didn’t need it herself any longer, for she still had her spencer and wool skirt, and felt plenty warmed by exercise from walking.

Placing the cloak around both their shoulders, the two children watched her in disbelief.

“What’s this?” the boy asked.

“Consider it a Christmas surprise.” Upon standing again, she found the girl’s eyes sparkling with delight as she admired the material, which was entirely too large for her, and the young boy still looked on incredulously.

“Now you can use this to keep you warm, or you can sell it for a pretty penny. But if anyone gives you so much as a questioning glance, you can tell them that it was a gift from Mrs. Caroline Marley, and that they can take it up with me directly.”

Tears shone in the little girl’s eyes as she looked up and said, “God bless you, Mrs. Marley.”

“And you two, as well.” Then with a wink, Caroline took off again swiftly down the street. She felt significantly lighter somehow, as if a burden had been completely removed from her life. Now she had only one more stop before her day was done.

Upon finding the correct location, a large mansion as she should have expected, she walked up the long entryway and knocked on the door.

After some time, the door opened, and a butler appeared.

“Good day. My name is Caroline Marley. An acquaintance of the Duke of Rothes. Might I petition a moment with His Grace?”

The butler nodded and stepped backward. “Do come in, madam. Please wait here in the parlor and I will see if His Grace is at home.”

Caroline looked around the entryway, which was noticeably void of any holiday décor. Those in elevated circles would have plenty prepared for Christmas in the coming days, at least until Twelfth Night in January. But she would not be here for any of that. She needed to return home to Longford Manor. To Hamstead.

“His Grace will see you in his study,” the butler announced, inviting her to follow.

He led her down the corridor and upon stepping inside, Caroline bowed in a deep curtsy. She was surprised that he would agree to see her, especially considering how she had last spoken to him. But she knew this would be an uphill battle where he clearly had the upper hand.

“Well, well, well,” said the duke, peering at her over his desk. “If it isn’t Mrs. Marley. All the way back in London, much to my surprise. Come to eat your words and beg forgiveness at my feet? For you delivered quite a speech on our last parting, in your grand rejection of my proposal.”

Caroline smiled sweetly. “On the contrary, Your Grace. I stand by my every word in Hamstead. I have only come to you now on a matter of business.”

His brow furrowed. “Business?”

“Indeed. I have a proposal of my own.”

Robert stared into the dancing flame in the fireplace, letting it hypnotize him to complete distraction. Fred had invited them to dinner, and Robert willingly brought his family over to let them have a little neighborly companionship, to feel of the holiday spirit, even though he felt none of it himself. He tried to smile and carry on as he always did, but the disappointment he carried was a heavy burden to bear. Before, he had been weighed down for years by anger and more recently by fear and then by allowing himself to hope, but the guilt and remorse of knowing what could have been, of coming so close and then ruining his chances, that fresh sting would sit with him for some time.

Fred appeared by his side with a fresh cup of tea, which Robert gratefully accepted.

“Much on your mind?” Fred asked.

Robert nodded. “Too much.”

Fred glanced back, no doubt finding everyone completely occupied with baby Beth, and lowered his voice. “Is it Caroline?”

He wished he could be truthful with his friend, for no one would understand more than Fred, but Robert found himself unable to speak about it to anyone. “Has there been any word at Longford Manor of her return?”

Looking down at his own teacup, Fred shook his head. “No. Lily said the word around town is that the Christmas day ball has been canceled, but no one is able to confirm it. I believe they expect the new owner to arrive any day. Some distant relation of my grandmother’s, if I remember correctly.”

Robert nodded, accepting what he already knew to be true. Bitter disappointment lingered in his chest, and there would be no relief. It was not as if he could write to Caroline, for they were not friends, and he had made sure they had not become anything beyond that. But even if he sent a letter, Fred had told him she had a penchant for tossing unwanted correspondence in the fire, so it would do no good. Caroline would surely want nothing to do with Robert. They would have to be nothing to each other from now on.

Robert took a sip of his tea, welcoming the scalding liquid down his throat. Perhaps the tea could help heal his wound from within. He could only hope to cauterize his own heart, but the scar would be much longer lasting.