Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

" O h, do not look so nervous," Esther sighed. "One would think that we are moving in with Satan."

"Are you sure that we are not?" Caroline responded tartly. "From everything that you have told me of your grandson, Satan might not be such a bad option. Did you write to him to ask if he had any room for us? In hell, I mean."

"Ha!" Esther cackled. She was sitting by the window of the carriage, looking outside as if searching for something while growing more eager by the moment. "I did not paint a very flattering picture of my grandson, did I?"

"That is the understatement of the century," Caroline muttered. She glanced through the window, feeling her stomach twist with nerves. She did not recognize the landscape specifically, but she knew it well enough that an uneasy feeling was beginning to settle on her shoulders.

"I was mostly joking," Esther assured her, still watching outside. "Frederick is a little uptight, this is true. And a little cold at times. And the temper on him…" She clicked her tongue. "I would not want to find myself on the end of it."

"Again, you make him sound just so wonderful."

"But he is kind." She turned and fixed her expression on Caroline. "And caring. Even sweet, when he wishes to be. He might not have an overt sense of humor like you and I, but do not think him humorless. He is simply… cautious."

"Cautious about his sense of humor?" Caroline scoffed. "He sounds like a barrel full of laughs. Careful, Esther, when the time comes for us to leave, I may not wish to go."

Esther tittered and turned back to look out the window. "Do not mistake him for the way he comes across. Sadly, he has no choice in the matter. Raised to be a duke, his father was harder on him than he should have been, instilling a sense of duty in him that even I could never shake him free of. Deep down, he is still the same little boy—why, when he was barely eight, he used to cry at night because he was scared of the dark. Do you believe it!" She laughed at the memory. "He is still my grandson," she said with a nod, "and the hardened shell he insists on wearing is just that, a shell."

"So, all that is to say that when he is berating me for heaven's can only guess, I should not take it personally?"

Esther tittered. "There, now you understand."

Caroline rolled her eyes. "Thank you for the warning although something tells me that when it is time for us to leave, I will be the first one in the carriage."

To this, Esther turned slightly and smirked, a twinkle in her eyes as if she knew something that Carline did not. "We shall see," was all she said. "We shall see." And then she went back to watching out the window, eyes searching, excitement rising steadily.

Two years of living as the Dowager's companion and not once had Caroline met or so much as seen His Grace in the flesh. For good reason too. And while the Dowager spoke highly of her grandson, on the few occasions that she visited him, she never once thought to bring Caroline along with her. A blessing that Caroline was forever grateful for.

Oh, His Grace had a renowned reputation which Caroline had been aware of even before she had run away from home. So well-known were his less than stellar hospitality skills that when the Dowager told Caroline where they would be staying for the proceeding month, Caroline almost suggested that she remain behind as the pile of burnt rubble that was the Linfield Estate somehow still felt preferable.

Caroline continued to fidget as she looked out the window, watching the farmland roll by. They were coming closer and closer to the Dukedom of Thornton, and this had Caroline on edge for reasons that went beyond what was sure to be a chilly reception.

The truth was, the Duke wasn't nearly the concern that Caroline was making him out to be—it was an easy enough lie to tell, for she knew that Esther would sense how nervous she was. Yes, a part of her did not look forward to meeting the infamous Duke, but a larger part, the part which had the hairs on the back of her neck standing as her stomach twisted, was far more concerned with where this Dukedom resided.

It was far too close to London for Caroline's liking.

Less than a day's ride south of London, this was the closest to home that Caroline had been in two years. What if someone whom she knew visited the Duke while she was staying here? What if he somehow recognized her? Or had heard of what had happened—the reason she had fled? What if she was out for a walk one day and stumbled upon an old family friend? What if… what if… what if!

It made her ill to think which had her squirming which had Esther assuming it was her son's impending presence that caused it. For two years, Caroline had remained in hiding, and now, she could not escape the dreaded feeling that soon her cover would be blown, and her world would come crashing down around her…

"Oh! Ohoho!" Esther pointed out the window. "There it is! We're here! See, Caroline! We're finally here!"

Caroline took a calming breath as she shuffled to Esther's side of the carriage and looked out the window, getting her first glimpse of the Duke's estate. A truly breathtaking breadth of land on which sat a veritable palace for how grand and opulent it was: three stories tall, grey brick and white painted stone, marble columns framing the entrance, vines growing up the walls as if they were growing from the foundations, and a wondrously vibrant garden stretching from the entrance to what must have been half a mile in front of the manor.

Even Caroline could not help but show awe as she took it in, mouth hanging open in a showing of appreciation.

"And that is nothing when compared to inside," Esther said rightly, smirking to herself.

It was expected that His Grace would meet them outside of his home when their carriage pulled up. Strangely, he was nowhere to be seen. Rather, a butler by the name of Mr. White stood waiting, apologizing profusely because His Grace was just attending to some private matters and would meet with them shortly.

"Oh, I don't care about him," Esther said, waving the butler down as she strode toward the manor. "Where is my great-granddaughter?"

"She is in her bedroom of the moment, but I will let her know that you are?—"

"You will let her know nothing," Esther cut him off. "Take me too her." She reached the front door and spun about, raising a single eyebrow at the butler that warranted no argument. "Now, thank you."

"Ah… yes, Madam." He swallowed as he hurried for her. "And shall your friend be joining you?"

"No, no." Esther looked past Mr. White to where Caroline was still standing by the carriage, not entirely certain what she should be doing. "Make yourself at home, dear. If you take a left inside, you should find the main drawing room. I'll be there shortly."

Caroline smiled, and Esther took that as all the agreement she needed, turning back and sweeping inside like a storm. Mr. White hurried after her, calling something out that Caroline could not hear.

Alone now, Caroline took the house in one last time before deciding to head inside. A part of her was worried about walking through this stranger's home without a proper introduction first, for what if someone thought she had wandered in off the street and did not belong. But she squashed those worries because it must have been known that she was arriving today with the Dowager, so surely there wouldn't be any problems…

As promised, the inside of the manor was luxurious and lavish in every conceivable facet. Money seemed to pour from the walls, for every piece of artwork looked specifically chosen to impress. Caroline took her time walking through the foyer, taking in the splendor, before she finally found her way to what she had expected to be an empty drawing room.

It was not empty. There was but one person inside, back facing the door, and although Caroline had never seen the man before, she knew immediately that it must be His Grace.

From behind, he was as tall and strapping as she had heard. Well over six feet in height with a broad back and strong shoulders like a bear and a physical stature and presence that was intimidating such that she hovered by the doorway, not sure if she should go in and be alone with him. Not for fear, of course. Just… she couldn't say exactly what.

Only then, the Duke turned around and saw her lurking. His handsome face, centered by a pair of blue eyes so dark they were nearly black, took her in, wondered about her, and then narrowed into an accusatory glare.

"Who the devil are you?" he asked, his voice a deep growl that Caroline could feel in her stomach.

She opened her mouth to respond but found the words catching in her throat. The Duke's dark hair was longer than what was normal, sitting messy on his head, which only added to the intimidation that emanated from his presence. She felt like a deer caught in the wild by some sort of predator, cornered and trapped and without a chance of escape.

"Well?" he barked. "What are you doing in my home?"

"I - I am Miss Dowding," she stammered. "The Honorable Caroline Dowding," she then corrected.

"And that is supposed to mean something to me?"

"Your grandmother," Caroline blurted a little too loudly. "I am here with your grandmother." A beat. "The Dowager. I am her companion."

His brow furrowed as he looked over her, assessing her from head to toe. His dark blue eyes worked their way down and then back up as he started toward her, and she had to fight the urge not to back out of the room entirely. "My grandmother. Where is she?"

"I…" Caroline baulked. "I do not know."

"I thought you said that you were her companion."

"I am."

"Yet you do not know where your mistress is." He reached where she still stood in the doorway, stopping less than a foot away. Up this close, he was even bigger than she had realized, and he towered over her like a monster from legend. "Is that not the entire point of being one's companion?"

"I—"

"Well?" he demanded. "I was aware that my mother had chosen herself a companion to keep company with. I did not realize that she had chosen a mute, also."

So, the rumors were true. His Grace was as rude and cold and just plain awful as everyone had said. Intimidated at first, now that Caroline had managed to compose herself slightly—while getting more used to his commanding presence—she felt a sudden surge of hostility rise inside of her that wasn't at all unexpected.

Who was he to talk to her this way? Who was he to behave so rudely? And maybe the Duke was used to living in such a world, but Caroline was not one to stand by and be treated as such. After all that she had been through… no, she did not think she could simply take it.

"I take it that you do not entertain very often, Your Grace?"

He blinked and leaned back. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"If you did, you might care to show me some sense of common decency. As I am a guest in your house, the least you could do is try and not behave like an oafish boar. Unless such a tame request is too much to hope for?" She raised a single eyebrow at him, forcing herself to hold his gaze.

She could see right away that her words were unexpected. His face contorted with surprise, his calm demeanor upended as he blinked and tried to recompose himself. Why, the way he looked at her now, she would not be surprised to learn that nobody in the history of the entire world had spoken to him in that way.

"How dare you speak to me like that," he growled at her, standing up straight again and leaning over her. "Who do you think you are?"

"I told you that, already," she said, simply taking some pleasure in how caught off guard he was. "I might be a mute, but you are either deaf or you do not listen so well."

"I…" He tilted his head, brow still furrowed, caught between anger and pure shock. "My grandmother's companion, you said?"

"Ah, I see you have finally caught up."

His upper lip curled into a smirk. "The Honorable Caroline Dowding? Your father is a viscount?"

"That is why I called myself as such."

"It is no wonder you have chosen the life of a companion then," he chuckled coldly. "No doubt, it was quickly realized that a life among the peerage was not suited to someone as…" His eyes flashed at her. "… unrefined as yourself. And when your father's own stable hand turned you down, you came to decide that you had no other choice."

Her eyes widened. "That is… that is not… you have no idea as to what you speak."

He shrugged, evidently pleased to have the upper hand again. "Perhaps if you could string more than a single sentence together, you could enlighten me. A shame then that even such a simple action as that seems beneath you."

Oh, he was even worse than she had thought! Clearly his ego was even grander in stature than he was, and to have it attacked at all brought out a side in the man that Caroline was certain even Esther would not approve of.

The Duke still stood over her. Still leered as a means to intimidate and put her in her place. And while she was undoubtedly taken by his physical presence, forced to look up while doing all she could not to back away, Caroline steeled herself and fixed him in a glare because she had been through too much and suffered too often to let him simply walk over her.

"I must admit, Your Grace, I was surprised when the carriage pulled up outside this manor, nominating it as your home."

The Duke's frowned, again caught off guard by the parry in conversation. "Meaning?"

"Well, we passed a stable on the way—just a mile down the road. And from everything I have heard of you, why, I simply assumed that was where you might bed down for the night. Oh sure, the pigs might complain a little—the smell…" She curled her nose. "But for one as refined as you, I am sure they would be willing to accommodate."

Caroline could not help but smirk proudly at herself. More so when she saw the outrage in the Duke's eyes. Why, to look at him, one might have thought that she struck him across the face, such was the pure shock and surprise and inability to believe the words that had come out of her mouth.

"What is the matter?" she pushed on bravely. "Do not tell me that this mute was able to insult your fragile ego? Not bad for one unable to string a sentence together."

"I…" His face was turning red, and she could see the anger in his eyes. "I would not say such things if I were you."

"And why not?"

"It amuses me that you mistook a stable for my own home, for it is clear to me now that it is you, Miss Dowding, who belongs in one."

She scoffed. "Is that the best you can come up with?"

"You should count yourself grateful that it is. I see that my grandmother has been kind to you… far too kind, letting your tongue wag without consequence. The same cannot be said whilst you are under my roof."

A raised, derisive eyebrow. "That sounds like a challenge."

His eyes flashed, and suddenly, he had a hand on her waist. She gasped and tried to wiggle free, but his hand was so large it wrapped half her body, and he squeezed tight, holding her in place as he stepped in close. His large body pressed against her own, blotting out the world so that she could look nowhere but upon his furious visage which locked her in with a snarl.

"You are my guest," he growled as he leaned down close; his breath was warm on her face, and it made her shudder with a sensation that went beyond fear. So powerless. So helpless. "And because you are such, I am willing to ignore the slight you have just brought."

"I…" she stammered, unable to speak for her heart beat such that it hurt.

"But I must warn you, Miss Dowding…" He fixed her in his stare, and she could not look away, "I am not one to be spoken to like that. Is that understood?"

"Y - yes," she somehow managed.

"And while you are under my roof, you will treat me with respect. Is that understood?"

"I am sorry…"

"Good…" He bared his teeth. "If you behave, then there is no reason that you and I will not get along swimmingly. Correct?"

All she had to do was say she understood. Another apology, and he would let her go, and she would be able to spend the next month avoiding this monster as anyone of sound mind might think to do. And yet… there was something about the way he held her and looked at her and bore down on her that had Caroline's mind going to a place she did not even know to exist.

Her heart rate was up. Her blood was running warm. The feel of his hand still wrapped about her waist had her body breaking out in tingles that made her shudder as his warm breath licked at her lips and swept down her throat.

Yes, he was scary. Yes, he was intimidating. But that was what had Caroline feeling the way she did. So much that when she opened her mouth to speak, the words that left her lips were not of her own making but formed by something else deep within.

"And if I choose not to behave?" she dared to ask.

He looked startled, blinking back his surprise, only to catch himself and growl again, his grip increasing so that it almost hurt. "Then you will be punished as is anyone who disobeys me is."

"Punished…?" Her body was shaking although it did not feel as if it was from fear. "And how exactly will you punish me?"

There was a glint in his eyes. A sense of excitement brought about by her question. "Cross me, and find out."

Her heart was still racing. The words spoken sounded like threats, yet there was an air of something more to them. A sense that this so-called punishment might not be as bad as the Duke wanted it to seem. "Maybe I will."

"Do not test me," he growled, and she could feel it rolling over her.

"Do not tempt me."

He narrowed his eyes and licked his lips. It was as if he were a lion looking upon prey he was about to devour. And oh, how she wished he would. Her eyes flicked to his lips, and she licked her own, held his stare, felt a fire brewing between them so hot that it might burn down this manor as Linfield Estate had burned.

His body was still pressed to hers as he leaned in close, his mouth moving to her ear where he whispered, "You play a dangerous game, and I would hate for you to get hurt." And then, she felt his teeth tear into her earlobe.

"Ah…" she gasped as he nibbled her ear, biting down and tearing back.

"Frederick!" Esther's voice suddenly cried from around the corner. "Where are you! This house! I swear to God!"

And just like that, it was over. The Duke released his grip on Caroline and took a hasty step back, hands folding behind his back as he straightened and fixed a smile on his face just in time for Esther to shuffle around the corner and appear behind Caroline.

Caroline, still standing in the doorway, did not notice her at first. Face flushed. Breathing stammered. Body shaking. She trembled as she looked at His Grace, trying to search his eyes as if she needed confirmation for what just happened—as if she might have imagined it. But His Grace, somehow, looked so at ease and composed that she very nearly thought it was all in her head.

"Grandmother," His Grace beamed, "you made it." A quick flick of his eyes at her in warning, that fire and heat clear behind them, and then he was back on Esther. "I trust the trip went well?"

Certainly not imagined. Certainly not in her head. That acceptance didn't make things any better. And with the Duke before her and his grandmother behind, Caroline suddenly felt as if she had stumbled into the middle of a situation which might very well be the end of her.

She had been wary of living under His Grace's roof for what might be as long as an entire month. But now the thought terrified her… or at least that was what she told herself as by now, Caroline had become rather adept at lying.