The Secret Love of a Gentleman (11 page)

Physically he was at his peak, so young and beautiful.

He picked up his boots. “May I have my coat, young master coat-keeper?” He held out his hand, George raised his arms and Rob took his coat from them. “And now I think we ought to return to the house. I am soaked and would like a change of clothes, and your mama and papa have probably come back and will be looking for you, George.”

Caro gripped George’s hand before he could run off. “Come along, then, do you wish to carry your boat?” He nodded, and so the three of them walked back across the lawn with George gripping his boat and Rob carrying his boots, with his coat hanging over his shoulder.

When they reached the house, Rob excused himself and ran upstairs ahead of them, heading to his room, which was on the first floor, displaying the energy and agility that the muscular definition of his body implied as he took the steps two at a time.

Caro followed him, walking more slowly with George.

Chapter 10

Caro had spent her days very differently in the last few weeks. She often played with George and Rob, while Rob thought up silly games. Then in the evenings she dined at the table and afterwards went to the drawing room with Rob, Drew and Mary, where they would either play the pianoforte and sing, or play cards.

It was probably the strangest period of her life because it was the most normal she had ever felt. Rob frequently engaged her in conversation and offered his arm when they walked anywhere together. He also sat beside her at the pianoforte some evenings and would turn the music for her as she played, and on rare occasions, if the song desperately needed a baritone, he would concede and sing with her.

For the first time she did not feel like a parasite, and she was certainly not isolated, she felt a part of life, of a family, and she laughed every day, and smiled often, and most importantly—she was happy. It was a feeling of joy deep inside her.

“Uncle Bobbie!” George complained, gleefully, as his uncle chased after him and captured the running child, wrapping an arm about George and lifting him up by the waist. George’s feet kicked as though he was still running.

“I caught this little monkey.” Rob turned and grinned at her. “I’m not sure exactly what species it is.” George wriggled.

“Aun’ie Caro!” he complained.

They’d taken George for a walk, leaving Mary and Drew to enjoy a little peace with Iris. Their path followed a circular route about the edge of the formal garden, along a woodland wilderness walk. It did not have the orchestrated picturesque views of Albert’s vast gardens, but it was quaint and it made Caro feel absorbed in nature. Birds sang from the branches above, and the summer breeze swept through the leaves, which shaded them from the sun, rustling them and making a pretty sound, while bees buzzed and butterflies fluttered through the air, adding more bright colours to the occasional planting that lined the route.

It was a beautiful day.

Rob had left his coat and waistcoat off because the day was so hot. They were used to being informal because of playing with George. He’d rolled his shirt sleeves up too and so, as he carried George under his arm the fine, dark hairs on his forearm showed against his pale skin, and he was sweating, so his shirt stuck to his side and became transparent.

It was a very hot day. It was the best place to be, beneath the trees.

“Put me down, Uncle Bobbie!” George wriggled harder.

“When you can behave, little monkey. You were told not to run.”

Rob turned and stopped, waiting for her to catch up. George kicked out, complaining, at Rob’s side.

She smiled, her legs slashing at her petticoats and the skirt of her dress. Her bonnet, which hung from her neck by its ribbons, bounced against her back. It was not fair that Rob could strip off layers and she could not. The thought stirred a tight feeling in her stomach.

When she reached him, she ruffled George’s hair.

“Aun’ie Ca’o.”

Rob swung him round to sit at his hip, and Caro actually glimpsed Rob’s skin at his waist as his shirt pulled up.

Rob gripped George’s chin and made George look him in the eyes as George clasped Rob’s neck. “Now, George Framlington, you are not to run ahead, there is a stream further along. If you tumble into that and drown your mama and papa would string me up. You’re to do as you are told or I will not bring you out for a walk again. Do you hear?”

George lifted his chin free, but nodded.

“I wish to hear the promise from your lips. Say it George,
I will not run off
.”

George’s lower lip wobbled. He hated to be told off, but then he said, “I won’t ‘un. I p’omise.”

“Good boy.” Rob patted George’s back, then he added more softly. “There’s no need for tears. You did wrong. You know you did, but now you are going to do right.”

“You may hold my hand,” Caroline offered.

“Or ride on my back,” Rob added.

“’ide” George chose, already lifting his hands to Rob’s neck. Rob shifted him, spinning him to his back as George’s arms circled his neck, and then he carried George in a piggyback, with George’s legs looped over his arms.

George looked ahead over Rob’s shoulder. Caro smiled at them both.

Rob’s patience was a wonderful thing.

“You are good with him,” she commented when they began walking again.

“I’ve had enough practice. Remember the size of my family.”

“I did not have a close family. We were not like yours.”

Rob glanced at her and smiled. “I know. Mary met them. She’s spoken of it. She described them as unpleasant.”

“She was being polite. But they were not unkind to me. Drew and I were just not wanted and ignored—for understandable reasons. The Marquis did not want Mama’s little cuckoos in his nest.” She laughed—she was talking to him of things she never spoke of. But they had become friends and friends shared confidences. “I do not even know who my father is. Neither does Drew.”

“But the fault was your mother’s, not yours. Did the Marquis not recognise that?”

She looked at Rob with a shrug. She had never understood her mother. The woman had not one maternal bone in her body. “Perhaps, but if we were treated as though we did not exist then her infidelity could be ignored. It was Mother’s view too. We were mistakes to be disposed of. Fortunately for me, Albert was willing to ignore my birth—or perhaps he did not know. He never mentioned it and neither did I.”

“Fortunately… Forgive me if this is ignorant, but what was fortunate about your marriage?”

Caro glanced at him, surprised to hear him speak of it, but she did not feel horror as she might have done a few weeks ago, and she had spoken of it first.

“I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.” His smile became apologetic.

But it was nice to feel comfortable to talk, and Rob was easy to talk to. He never judged. “It does not matter. You may speak of it. But my marriage was not always bad. I loved him.” She still did, in a way. He was the only one who had ever shown her the intensity of feeling that had felt like love, and her body and her soul had never forgotten it—the thing she’d lacked and longed for as a child. Drew may care for her, but it had always felt such a shallow comparison to the infatuation Albert had shown. And she still knew Drew’s affection to be a shallow emotion compared to what he felt for Mary… “I was young when I met him and I suppose I idolised him. He was attentive and earnest. He courted me with devotion. We spent hours and hours together before we married, and he was so determined to have me that he threatened to run off with me if the Marquis disagreed. Of course the Marquis did not refuse.”

A sound of amusement slipped from her throat when she remembered how happy her mother and the Marquis had been at the news they were to be rid of her so easily.

“Even when we married, though…” She glanced at Rob, to see him watching and listening. “…things were wonderful, Albert spent hours in my company at the beginning. He never said he loved me, but I thought it was love. Yet in the second year his interest waned, and he began keeping mistresses.” Her memories drifted into things she did not want to recall, and she stopped talking as images flashed through her thoughts: strikes, words shouted in her face, the unbearable sensation of failure and loneliness.

“Caro…”

She had stopped walking as well as talking. Her consciousness returned to the woodland walk, the sound of the birds and the sunshine above the trees. Those bad moments and those feelings were behind her. She looked ahead and began walking again. “He spent less and less time with me. He wanted a son and I could not carry a child. In the end I was not good enough for him. Things turned sour and his anger grew worse, and, well… you know the rest,” she whispered the last.

They walked a few steps in silence, her gaze focused on the grass pathway.

She glanced at Rob. George was sucking his thumb as his head rested against Rob’s shoulder.

An elemental warmth twisted in her stomach—longing. “I am glad I married him. In the first year and the year that he courted me, he made me happy. I was fortunate to have those years. They were the happiest of my life. What I had missed in attention as a child, I received from Albert tenfold, and it felt like heaven then.”

“You need more happy years, then,” Rob said in answer, as he looked ahead.

“I do not anticipate them…” A lump caught in her throat. She’d never thought of her unhappiness. She had spent years here, angry with herself for her failure to succeed as a wife, disappointed and ashamed. But to be unhappy was unfair on Drew. He’d done so much for her. Yet now Rob was here and she’d discovered what it was to be happy again. She knew how unhappy she’d been.

She swallowed, not looking at Rob, and she did not think he was looking at her. “Why am I telling you this? I’ve told all this to no one else, not even Drew.” She laughed then, to dispel the melancholy feeling wrapping about her heart.

“I do not know. But I am glad you feel able to. We have truly become friends, haven’t we?”

She smiled at him.

“Perhaps I am easy to talk to because I’ve spent a lifetime listening to my sisters.”

She laughed and it was not shallow laughter, it came from her stomach. How absurd. A moment ago she had been remembering the awful muddle she’d made of her life with Albert and then Rob had made her laugh.

Her gaze turned to Rob’s shoulder. “George has fallen asleep.”

“We’re nearly back anyway.”

Caro looked ahead. The narrow stream that signalled the end of the woodland walk was a few feet ahead.

Robert navigated it first, carefully stepping onto the flat stone in the middle of the stream. He set one foot on the far bank, left one on the stone, reached an arm behind him, bowing forward to carry George’s sleeping weight, then held out a hand to Caro.

Her heartbeat raced, and her breathing fractured when she looked at his bare, slender, long fingers as his hand reached out.

He was being gentlemanly, gallant. It would be ridiculous to refuse the gesture. Yet her hand was bare too. It was too hot for gloves.

It is nothing of consequence.

She clasped his fingers and their warmth and strength closed about her grip, but the feeling of his security grabbed at her soul too when she stepped onto the stone. Her heart thumped as her bosom brushed against his chest briefly.

Heat flared in her cheeks, but there were other sensations too, sensations that recalled memories from her marriage bed.

“Caro…” he said in a low voice, his eyes a very dark grey.

She smiled, ignoring the heat burning in her cheeks and fought a foolish urge to kiss him. Then she stepped on, climbing up onto the far bank, lifting the hem of her dress with her free hand.

He kept hold of her hand and she held him steady as he stepped onto the bank. She met his gaze when he did, her limbs turning to aspic. There was a look in his eyes that she had seen in Albert’s long ago, when Albert had courted her—Rob’s pupils were wider, and they seemed to glow with a depth that was not normally there.

“George, will fall if you’re not careful,” she said, letting his hand go.

He smiled. “I’ll move him. Just take him for a moment so he does not topple off.”

Caro lifted George from his back, and then Rob took him again.

George’s head rested against Rob’s shoulder, while Rob’s arm braced George’s back and his hand gripped one of George’s legs. He gave Caro another smile. “Do you ride?”

She nodded. She did, but she had not done so for years.

“Then, shall we ride tomorrow? We could ride onto John’s land and give the horses their heads.”

A gallop. She hadn’t ridden since she’d left Albert—she didn’t even really know why. But Drew had never offered to accompany her and she’d never asked, nor thought of riding alone. But the thought of it now…

“I would like to.”

Chapter 11

“You should come,” Rob suggested, leaning back in his chair at the dining table and eyeing Caro with determination as he twisted the stem of his wine glass in his fingers.

She wished to poke her tongue out at him, but she would not before Drew and Mary. Instead her forehead creased into a scowl as she closed her lips on her argument.

“Why not, Caro?” Drew, pushed.

She ignored him.

Drew, Mary and Rob had visited a neighbour’s for dinner the night before. She had not joined them, she had become used to Rob being here, and her feelings of discomfort being silent, she did not wish to stir them up again. But now they were trying to persuade her to attend an assembly in Maidstone that they had heard about from Drew’s neighbour.

“You will have all three of us with you,” Mary urged, quietly.

“You need not even dance, if you do not wish to,” Drew stated. “One of us will stay with you.”

“I will stay with you,” Rob stated, “They will wish to dance with each other.”

“We will not,” Mary answered, “I can barely persuade him to dance one set, even if it is a waltz. Drew does not
like
dancing.”

“It’s superfluous,” he responded, laughing, “once you have a wife.”