Kaleidoscope: A Regency Novella (8 page)

While understandable, her skepticism hurt. He wanted Carolyn Rydell to think better of him. He smiled to deflect the sting. “I actually saw myself more as the Archbishop of Canterbury—but I acknowledge that I couldn’t have started there. And I would have been happy with a parish in the country. I’m not all that enamored by London. I actually enjoy the slower pace of village life.”

“Then, why are you in London?”

That was a question he’d asked himself more than once. “I have friends here. Activities.” Those didn’t equate to purpose, but it was the best he could do. The small stud farm he’d briefly imagined glimmered—and then was gone.

“What happened to the idea of your entering the church?”

Luke was glad that she wasn’t laughing at the idea. “That opportunity was long ago,” he said. “I mentioned earlier that my life had taken some unexpected turns that have led me to the here and now. I loved my studies at the university. If I was perhaps more interested in the intellectual side of religion, I would have still made a good minister, but I was accused of something so horrible that I was no longer an acceptable candidate.”

And then he told her about Belinda Fuquay’s accusations and his response. He didn’t make excuses; he just gave her the facts of that terrible period of his life when all doors shut and no new ones opened. He spoke with honesty and regret. “I should have married her,” he concluded, “but I imagined the real father would step forward. I had no idea she would do what she did.”

Carolyn reached over and gave the hand lying on the table a quick squeeze. Until she’d touched him, he had no idea he’d clinched it into a fist. Warmth stole through him, relaxing taut muscles. “Why do you think she targeted you?” she asked.

“I’ve pondered that since it happened and have never arrived at a satisfactory explanation. I truly knew her only in passing. Maybe she thought I’d marry her for her dowry. In the end, I’ll never know.” He turned his hand over and grasped hers. His spirits were buoyed by her belief that his version of the situation was true. If only he’d had the same support from his family.

“I should be going,” he said abruptly. If he stayed much longer he couldn’t resist the urge to gather her into his arms. He hadn’t felt this comfortable with anyone in years and didn’t want to destroy their growing closeness.

“You’ll come again?”

How could she doubt it? “If I’m invited,” he said.

“You will be.”

The warmth of her dazzling smile carried him out into the street.

 
  

Patterns for June 1825

C
aro waited impatiently
for Sanjeet to finish reviewing the documents that examined the feasibility of importing wine from Madeira. She could see his dark head bent over the papers through the door to the outer office. As he methodically turned the pages and made notes, she nudged the cut glass oil lamp and two paperweights on her desk into a slightly different configuration. She realized she was fidgeting but could do nothing about it.

When he finally finished and stood, she pretended to be engrossed in an unread shipping schedule.

“It’s a workable plan,” he said, entering her office. “I know this isn’t your work, so who came up with this idea?”

“A friend. I thought it looked good, but I wanted to have your unbiased opinion.” She hoped she didn’t look too delighted with Sanjeet’s evaluation.

He grinned as if he weren’t fooled by her attempt to suppress her excitement. “Once the new East Indiaman is in service, short hauls to places like Madeira would put one of the smaller ships to good use. Especially if the projected sales figures are correct. But the potential market seems to have been carefully researched and the sale of fortified wine appears to be steadily growing. I assume you will want to pursue this.”

“Yes. It would make sense to have contracts in place before the new ship is finished. Assuming the shipbuilder meets the anticipated dates—”

“Perhaps a big assumption.” Sanjeet raised his eyebrows and gave her an apologetic smile. He’d recently been spending a lot of time at the Blackwall Yard, coaxing the shipbuilder into staying on schedule.

Caro smiled back. “I’ve no doubt your persistence will ensure that
Rydell’s Pride
will launch very close to when expected. If that’s the case,
Fancy’s Flight
should be available to try this shorter run.”

“Do you want me to begin working on this?”

“Not immediately. I thought I’d see if the friend who had the idea wanted to be involved.”

Caro could tell that Sanjeet wanted to quiz her about this mysterious “friend,” but he wisely chose to forego that line of inquiry and returned to his own work. She wished she too could get something done, but her mind was now firmly fixed on her friend—for Luke had indeed proved to be one.

And that was the problem.

Over the past month, she’d come to want something more than friendship from him. But Luke had dutifully stuck to the role she’d assigned, restricting physical contact to a brief brush of his lips across her forehead when he left her house after dinner. At least they’d progressed to meeting for dinner twice a week and the intimacy of using first names, but she wanted more—and wasn’t sure how to get it.

She’d attempted seduction last week by wearing a sari to dinner. Her late husband Charles had told her the consensus of the men at the English clubs in Calcutta was that there was nothing more exotic and alluring than a woman in Indian dress. This must have been the opinion of only men on the Indian subcontinent, however, since wearing a sari seemed to have no effect on Luke at all. If anything, he was more meticulously proper than ever.

Of course, this was the same evening that he’d arrived with his idea of importing Madeira. His extensive research confirmed that the market for the wine was expanding and that of all vintages, Madeira was the most consistent and undamaged by transport. Luke had presented his written report like the gift she took it to be. His enthusiasm about his findings was contagious, and she’d forgotten to be seductive in her own delight with the scheme.

When she thought it was a legal necessity, she’d asked him outright to be her lover. Perhaps that was the best way to handle the situation. But fear of rejection kept her silent. He’d be coming again for dinner in two nights, and she needed to come to some sort of decision.

She worried the problem like a loose tooth. With chagrin, she realized finding a solution to this was more important to her than where and when her ships were sailing.

 
  

Luke lounged against a column at the edge of the ballroom and watched the swirl of color around him. He didn’t look for Caro, since he knew she wasn’t attending this ball. He wouldn’t be here himself except he’d promised Tremaine he’d distract Sir Reginald Cleary when asked. Luke had no idea what Tremaine was up to, but the man did love to secretly skulk around. Since Luke had made use of this ability, even if it hadn’t been fruitful, he couldn’t refuse to help Tremaine in return when asked.

The orchestra began a new set—a waltz. Lord, he wished he’d convinced Carolyn that she should come. He’d dearly love to glide around the room with her in his arms. But she was adamant about staying out of the public’s eye. He hoped this wasn’t an indication she didn’t want her name attached to his in any way.

Their time together had fallen into a pattern over the past month. He’d initially gone to dinner at her house once a week, but that had now expanded to twice. They’d also progressed to where he now anticipated a goodnight kiss. He wanted more, of course, but had not pressed her. She continued to want only friendship and, even if it took all his self-control, he’d give her friendship.

Last week, however, he’d been hard pressed to ignore his raging lust. He’d arrived to find her dressed in an all-too-tempting red sari. The gold threads in the diaphanous material had caught the candlelight, and she’d shimmered like a flame. Even though the style was flowing, the sari had lovingly highlighted each of her delectable curves and illustrated how alluring and supple the female body could be when not encased in a corset.

He’d wanted to pull her into an embrace and explore every inch of her tantalizing body. When he’d glimpsed her bare feet, one slender ankle encircled by a gold band, he’d nearly come undone. He’d been thankful he’d arrived with some notes on suggested imports. It gave him something else to think about. But it had been hard. Actually, he’d been hard, and he hadn’t wanted to scare Carolyn away with the knowledge of his reaction.

Lord, he was becoming aroused just thinking about how she’d looked. He forced his attention back to the twirling dancers, but even the most arresting of the beautiful women waltzing around the room looked bland by comparison.

“I’m surprised to see you here.”

At the sound of the familiar, bored drawl, Luke pasted a pleasant smile on his face and turned to greet the younger of his two half-brothers. David was eleven years Luke’s senior, and the two men had long ago decided they had little to say to one another. Whereas their eldest brother, Templeton, was truly humorless and rigid, David’s propriety was assumed. David indulged in debaucheries that Luke could only imagine, but David’s pretense of moral rectitude had fooled most of the ton.

Tonight, his wife Patience accompanied him. If there was ever a woman more aptly named, Luke had not met her. Patience had to exemplify that virtue to put up with her philandering husband, whose primary goal seemed to be to spend her inheritance as quickly as he could.

“David. Patience. I hadn’t thought to see you here either.” His words trailed off as all his thoughts scattered. His breath caught in his throat as his attention fixed on the necklace draped around Patience’s neck. A thick gold chain supported a large, pear-shaped yellow diamond surrounded by smaller clear stones.

He’d never before seen the necklace, but the canary diamond was very familiar. He distinctly remembered his mother pouring the brilliant stones from a leather bag onto her bedspread. He saw his own childish hands arranging the sparkling gems into a pyramid shape topped by the big, yellow diamond. The cut, the color, was firmly etched in his mind. No wonder Tremaine hadn’t found the jewels in Templeton’s safe. David had had them all along.

“You’re in good looks tonight, Patience,” Luke forced out. “Is that a new necklace? It’s lovely.”

Patience flushed with pleasure. She was a retiring, plain woman, but anyone would have sparkled wearing such a gem. “Thank you, Lord Lucien. My husband recently gave me this wonderful necklace for our anniversary.” She beamed up at David. “I’m afraid his valet spoiled his surprise a bit, however, when he found the package in his coat and gave it to me.”

“David has always been thoughtful.” Luke was amazed he could utter such a lie with a straight face. He wondered if the valet who’d handed the packet to Patience was still in David’s employ. He suspected the necklace had been intended for a different neck than the one it now adorned.

David’s face continued to wear an artificial smile. He didn’t seem concerned that Luke would recognize the stone. Most likely, David had no idea that Luke had ever seen the gems. But having seen this distinctive one, Luke now knew who had the jewels. Jewels he would retrieve—as soon as he and Tremaine could figure out where they were kept.

As if conjured by his thoughts, Tremaine appeared next to him. “You’re needed in the card room as a fourth,” his friend said, slapping him on the back in overdone bonhomie.

“Oh, right.” Luke pulled his gaze away from the necklace, but not before Tremaine had noticed where Luke’s attention lay and had taken his own quick glance. With a brief mumble of pleasantries, the two men moved toward the card room.

“The big canary diamond?” Tremaine asked.

“Yes, one of my mother’s.” Luke’s voice shook with suppressed excitement. The possibilities he’d previously imagined again flooded his mind, only this time, the idea of a distant stud farm held less appeal. Now he saw himself investing in shipping enterprises. He’d long ago researched the value of loose gemstones similar to those he remembered, and if even the bulk of them were still available, he’d be on a solid financially footing. He would then no longer be an impoverished suitor and could offer Carolyn Rydell more than friendship.