Kaleidoscope: A Regency Novella (9 page)

Marriage!

The idea burned through him like the first drink of inferior brandy. How had he not known this was his true goal? Had he repressed the idea because he knew everyone would assume he was attracted primarily to her money? New vistas opened before him.

“I can feel your excitement,” Tremaine said, “but for now you promised to divert Cleary’s attention. It would be most unfortunate if Sir Reginald were to decide to return to his house for the next hour. Do you think you can keep him in a card game for that long?”

“If you’ll help me retrieve my jewels, I’ll keep the man there until the sun comes up.”

“An hour will do,” Tremaine said dryly. “And it’s always been my dream to be part of a truly spectacular jewelry robbery. If that diamond was any indication, your haul will be spectacular.”

 
  

Caro jolted awake. It took a few heartbeats to realize the sound that had roused her from sleep was the banging of her doorknocker. A summons in the night was never a good thing. Her mind began categorizing possible disasters as her body slid from her bed and she began searching for her robe in the dark.

Her hand had just touched the heavy satin of her wrapper when she heard Perkins answer the door. Her butler would undoubtedly be armed. He was no fool. He knew danger often arrived in the dead of night. She was fortunate the female staff slept in a back wing, or she’d have a hysterical Amala on her hands. When Caro had been a child, Amala had often frightened her with tales of the horrors that lived in the dark. Caro suspected Amala believed every one.

Slipping on her robe, she paused as she opened her own door and listened to what transpired in the hall below. She heard a whispered conversation, with no indication of anger or concern. She silently moved out onto the upstairs landing.

“You should have known that at this time of night Mrs. Rydell would be abed,” Perkins said. He was limned by the glow of the candle he carried but had only opened the door part way, so Caro was unable to see who stood there from her vantage point two stories above.

“I know. It was stupid of me. I was at a ball, and the hour didn’t seem all that late.” Luke’s voice, she was sure of it.

“Most of us have jobs that require us to get up in the mornings.” Perkins sounded dismissive, as if he were getting ready to close the door.

“I can only apologize again. Please have Mrs. Rydell contact me as soon as possible in the morning.”

“I’ll speak with Lord Lucien.” Her voice rang out in the darkened foyer. Whatever had brought Luke to her door must be important, and since he was here and she was awake, there was no need to wait until morning.

Luke pushed past Perkins and came into the hall. In the faint light, the two men seemed to be glowering at each other.

“Don’t attempt the stairs without light,” Luke said simultaneously with Perkin’s “I’ll bring the candle.”

Perkins rapidly came up the two flights to where Carolyn stood. “I’ll light your way down to the drawing room,” he said, “and Lord Lucien can see himself up.”

Caro found it amusing that Perkins thought she needed light to go down one floor in a house she knew well, while Luke had been abandoned in the dark to make his way up one flight. Sometimes men, regardless of age and station, behaved like such, well, men. She noticed the tail of her butler’s nightshirt hung down below his coat and the back of his hair stood up like a cockscomb. Since Perkins prided himself in his meticulous grooming, it was probably his dishabille as much as the lateness of the hour that caused his grumpiness.

She followed him down the stairs and waited while he lighted more candles in the drawing room. Luke had also entered and stood near the door until Perkins seemed satisfied with the brightness in the room.

“That’s quite sufficient,” Caro said. “You can return to your rest. I’ll see Lord Lucien out when he leaves.”

Perkins looked as if he might argue, then acquiesced and left.

“I fear I am no longer in your butler’s good graces,” Luke said.

Caro laughed. “No, I don’t believe you are. But please be seated and tell me what has brought you here so late.” Following her own advice, she took her normal seat in the wingback by the hearth. As she slid into the chair, the realization that she was entertaining in her nightclothes struck her. No wonder Perkins had been hesitant about leaving her alone.

By comparison, Luke wore his evening finery. Even his cravat still looked crisp. The man seemed unable to settle, however, and prowled the room like a hungry cat. He finally stopped behind the chair that matched her own, his hands clutching the top of the back as if to hold himself in place.

“I had the most amazing revelation this evening and couldn’t wait to share it with you. I again apologize for the lateness of the hour. In my enthusiasm to see you, I really didn’t consider the time.” He looked down at where his fingers dug into the material of the chair back as if embarrassed, but when his eyes again returned to hers, his face glowed with a brilliant smile. “I want to marry you.”

A myriad of emotions shot through her. Initially joy. The idea seemed so right. Uncertainty swiftly followed. Had his financial position suddenly worsened and he needed her money to bail him out of a tight spot? And lastly disbelief. No man of value would want to marry her for herself alone. She was well acquainted with the tons feelings about her mixed blood.

These thoughts tumbled over one another in a matter of seconds, leaving her confused as to how she felt about his statement. “Is this a proposal?” she asked, realizing the words sounded inane as they left her mouth.

“Yes, I suppose it is, although I suspect I’m going about it very poorly.”

She felt herself grin at the absurdity of the situation. “I’d have to agree with your conclusion.”

“Let me explain, then.”

“That would seem a logical idea, but first, is there a reason you are hovering behind a chair rather than sitting in one?”

Luke glanced around, as if surprised at his location. “It seemed a good idea when I first came in and saw you all warm and tousled from your bed. I had this powerful compulsion to loosen the rest of your hair from your night braid and then undo that lovely robe to see if your nightgown is as prim as the bit sticking above the neck of your wrap would suggest. At which point, I’d probably fall on you like a ravening beast and manage to convince you that you wanted nothing to do with me. And so, I’m using this chair as a shield—which is ridiculous. Good Lord!”

Shaking his head, he came around the side of the chair and lowered himself into the seat. Caro felt a powerful compulsion of her own. She wanted to leap from her chair into his lap and discover just what happened when one was fallen upon by a ravening beast. It sounded quite arousing. She wondered how both of them could have taken leave of their senses simultaneously.

“Let me begin at the beginning, so my revelation makes sense,” Luke said.

She nodded encouragement. Her scattered senses made any sort of logical comment impossible.

“My mother was my father’s second wife. Well, you would have guessed that since I have older half-brothers.” He shook his head again. “Mother and her family escaped France during the Terror. Like most émigrés, they brought their portable wealth with them. In my mother’s case, this was a large quantity of gemstones. I remember playing with them when I was a young boy.

“As I grew older, I lost interest in pretty baubles, but Mother always mentioned them as my legacy. When the whole Lady Belinda disaster came about, however, I didn’t see my mother for a few years—and then, only when she was dying. After her funeral, I asked my father about the stones, and he told me my mother had sold them to help other émigrés.”

Carolyn sat transfixed. She couldn’t see how lost jewels could lead to Luke’s irrational desire to marry someone his family would find unacceptable. Regardless of his present estrangement, this tale alone showed he still cared for them.

“I didn’t believe him.” Luke continued. “I’m not proud to admit that I even helped break into the family’s most secure safe, with the idea of stealing back what should be mine. But the jewels were never found. I began to think my father was right and that there was no inheritance to help see me into a comfortable life.”

He suddenly leaned forward, his eyes avid. “And then tonight, I saw my brother David’s wife wearing one of the larger stones. Hopefully, the bulk of the jewels my mother intended for me are intact. David must have stolen them. My job now is to steal them back. At which point, I will no longer be the impoverished Lord Lucien.” He gave her a blazing smile. “I’ll be a worthwhile suitor of a wealthy widow.”

In one smooth movement, he went down on one knee before her. “Carolyn Rydell, would you do me the great honor of being my wife?”

To have this startlingly handsome and good-hearted man all for herself for the rest of her life was a dream. “Yes” hovered on the edge of her lips. But dreams belonged to the land of sleep and wishful thinking—and she was awake.

She would never fit into Lord Lucien’s world. She would always be the half-caste outsider. People would assume Luke had married her for her money, and if his illusive legacy didn’t materialize, this would probably be the case. She doubted Luke would be happy with the title of Fortune Hunter forever tied to his name.

And if he did recover his lost fortune…he would be tied to a wife who would never be accepted by his peers. How long would it be before he found her an embarrassment, before everything good between them dissolved into something bad?

If she didn’t care for him as she did, she might be willing to settle for a half-life, for a pretense of happily ever after. But she did care. She probably loved the man. And because of this, she would grasp the here and now, and not worry about some improbable future.

“No,” she said, taking his hands in hers. “I will not marry you, but I’d very much like you to be my lover.”

 
  

No? Luke couldn’t believe Caro’s answer.

No? After he’d explained that his prospects were greatly improved. After he’d come to her, heart in hand. Anger surged through him, and it took a moment for the second part of her statement to sink in.

“You’re rejecting my offer of marriage but are willing to be my mistress?” He needed clarification for this bizarre situation.

“Yes.” Her dark eyes were tear-filled. “But I prefer the word ‘lover,’ since mistress suggests a woman who is kept and I see this as a meeting of equals.”

He rolled back onto his feet and moved away. Motion and distance seemed imperative. He was torn between the desire to either kiss her or throttle her. “It’s nice you see us as equals.” His voice was tight.

Caro stood and took a few steps toward him, her hands held out before her in supplication. “Luke, you’re imagining some offense where there is none. Don’t you see that I’m not rejecting you? I’m rejecting marriage—especially to someone I care about. I would be a millstone around your neck. My heritage will never change. I’ll never be accepted by English society.”

Luke shook his head in negation. He was certain Caro believed what she was saying. She’d told him that in India she’d been welcomed only in the merchant portion of Anglo-Indian society, and he could see how that exclusion had hurt her. But it wouldn’t be like that here. He would see that it wasn’t.

Caro frowned with intensity. “If you retrieve your legacy, you’ll be able to marry a
real
lady, one with a sterling background who would be accepted by society and your family. If I were your wife, however, you would have to endure the subtle snubs and snide comments that I’ve become accustomed to. You’d eventually realize marrying me was a mistake and come to hate me.”

“That’s ridiculous—”

“Let me finish before you say things you’ll regret.” She overrode him, voice strident. “If you never find the gems, people will say that you were willing to overlook my heritage and the fact that I’m in trade to get your hands on my money. They will see you as venal and grasping—a joke. And you’ll soon come to resent that, and you’ll hate me.

“Don’t you see that regardless of which scenario unfolds, you’ll end up hating me? Is it not better that we have a glorious here-and-now than end up with recriminations and hate?