The Secret Love of a Gentleman (7 page)

“Something will come along to give you purpose. Wait and see.” His uncle looked away, turning as his eldest daughter, who was fifteen, joined them.

“We are going to dance, will you dance with me, Papa?” She gave Rob a smile. Julie had her mother’s unusual green eyes.

“Julie.” Rob nodded.

“Robbie,” she bobbed a shallow curtsy. It was unnecessary but the girl was already practising for her debut. He smiled more broadly and she smiled brightly.

“I shall be honoured, young lady.” Uncle Robert stood.

Rob looked across the room. Caroline was standing beside his sister, looking at him. Before she had chance to look away, he smiled as he had just done at his cousin. Red stained Caroline’s cheeks when she looked away.

Rob rose. It would be crass of him not to offer to escort one his female cousins in the dance.

They danced a string of over half a dozen country dances, and he participated in every one with one of his cousins or sisters, but as he did so, he noted Caroline watching him frequently. If he’d been more courageous he would have offered to partner her, but she never danced.

He wondered if she wished to dance, if perhaps she was trapped by her fears and they were just as disturbing for her as they were for those trying desperately not to upset her.

Idealism was certainly his fault, because in his mind’s eye he saw her dancing. She’d come to life when she’d spoken with Mary. How much more would she come to life if she danced without fear.

I shall dance with her by the end of the summer.
The promise whispered through his soul. He abhorred dares, dares were another thing that was Harry’s forte—but if Rob wished to achieve something, when he set his mind to it, he did so with determination. He would see her dance because he firmly believed, from the amount of times she had looked at him this evening, she was not happy to be withheld by her fear. She wished to dance.

If I wish to achieve something, when I set my mind to it, I do so with determination…
He’d hold that thought fast through the summer, and find a way to win himself a seat in the House of Commons without the assistance of his family.

Chapter 6

“Aun’ie Ca’o, look.” Caro turned her gaze from the window to her nephew, who held out the wooden horse his grandfather had given him the day before. He was playing with his ark full of wooden animals.

“I can see, darling.”

His nanny was kneeling on the floor beside him, while Iris lay sleeping in a cradle across the room. There was no need for Caro’s presence in the nursery other than that she wished to be here.

“It’s nearly three, ma’am. Will you stay here for tea?” the nanny asked, rising from the floor.

Caro turned fully away from the attic window. Robbie had been due to arrive at two. He was an hour late. Drew would expect her to go down for tea once he came, but Caro was a coward to the core. “Yes, I will. I have nothing else to do.”

Caro walked over to George, who was galloping his horse across the rug, she bent and caught hold of his waist, then lifted him an inch or two off the floor. He laughed and wriggled. “Aun’ie Ca’o.”

“Tyke, you will be a monster when you are grown.”

“Papa, says I’ll be a ‘ogue and I’is a diamon’.”

“You’ll be a star and outshine everyone, and Iris will be sunlight, too bright for anyone to look at.” Caro lifted him up and balanced him on her hip. From outside came the loud sound of an arrival, carriage wheels turning on the gravel and horses’ hooves crunching in the stones.

“Uncle Bobbie!” George bellowed, pointing to the window with his horse.

Caroline’s heart thumped in her chest.

“Let me see, Aun’ie Ca’o.”

She wished to look as much as George did. She crossed the room and leaned to the window. She could still feel the sensation of Robbie’s fingers brushing against her skin last night when he’d touched her arm, and then she’d risen and her arm had slipped from his hold. His grip had been gentle. He’d not held her hard.

Robbie’s fashionable phaeton stood below and two thoroughbred chestnuts shook out their manes in the traces, while one of her brother’s grooms held their heads to stop them bolting.

Robbie jumped down as Drew walked forward. She’d watched Robbie moving last night as he’d danced. His slender, athletic build gave his movement grace. He’d not meant to disconcert her yesterday. She knew it. He was simply being thoughtful, and she had watched him dance with his sisters and his cousins, displaying the same thoughtfulness, while his brother and his male cousins stood to one side of the room talking amongst themselves and laughing frequently.

“Uncle Bobbie!” George cried again, his legs straightening, expressing his desire to get down as he wriggled to be free.

Caro set him down. Immediately he ran to the door and tried to reach the handle.

“Master George!” The nanny reprimanded, but George would never be deterred from the thought of someone new to play with.

“I shall go with him,” Caro stated as George managed to turn the handle and run out. “Forget the tea. I doubt we shall be back,”

Caro’s heart raced as she followed, but it was not with fear. She felt inexplicably excited.
Why was she excited?

“George!” she called, as he ran along the hall. He always looked like a little caricature of Drew when he ran. “George!” He did not stop. “George! Wait! Or I will tell your papa you misbehaved and you shall not see Uncle Robbie!” Her heart thumped harder as George neared the top of the narrow stairs leading down from the attic. “George, stop!” She clasped her skirt and held it high as she ran too, terrified he’d fall.

The child was an absolute nightmare when he chose to be, but thank the Lord he stopped and turned back, waiting for her as he grasped a spindle of the banister.

“Good boy, George, darling,” she praised breathlessly when she reached him, dropping to her haunches to hug him in relief. “Remember, you are not to run near the stairs, nor near horses or water, they are the three things you must never do.”

He nodded, his face twisting in a look of concern over her distress.

“Good boy,” she gave him another squeeze as love spilled from her heart into her blood. Drew’s children were her life. Without them she would have nothing to hold her together.

When she rose she lifted him to her hip and kissed his cheek, then said near his ear, “Come along, then, let us find your Uncle Robbie.”

She carried him down, with one hand sliding along the stair rail.

“May I see Uncle Bobbie’s ho’ses?”

“They will be in the stables. You may see them another day.”

“Will Papa let me ‘ide them?”

“One day, yes, I’m sure he will.”

George’s short-sentenced conversation continued down the stairs. He so rarely ran out of enthusiasm or energy.

When they reached the first floor, Caro heard loud, masculine voices echoing along the landing. Robbie was already upstairs and he and Drew were heading towards the drawing room. She stopped on the stairs, looking down through the stairwell and saw the servants carrying in Robbie’s luggage on the ground floor.

She’d hoped for a moment more of obscurity, but her hopes wilted as George shouted loudly, “Uncle Bobbie!” and then he fought for freedom. She finished her descent and set him down. He charged off in the direction of the voices.

Caro did not follow. Her excitement ebbed as she saw them.

“Uncle Bobbie!”

They looked back.

Foreboding crept over Caro and then the familiar discomfort—panic. Her lungs emptied of breath. Rob was looking at her not George, his gaze briefly skimmed the length of her body, then lifted back to her face. She felt hot as well as uncomfortable. The recollection of his touch now gave her a sense of self-consciousness. Her discomfort with other people had been her companion for too many years.

“Oh!” The cry came from George. He’d caught his toe on a wrinkle in the carpet and he tumbled forward, still gripping his wooden horse.

Caro lifted the hem of her dress and ran as the poor child’s head hit the floor with a bump. Thank the Lord it was wood and not stone.

Drew reached him first, but George was now howling, the broken wooden horse still grasped in his hand. It had lost a leg, but it was also covered in the child’s blood.

“What has he done?” she asked, stopping before them, breathing hard.

Drew wiped his thumb across his son’s swollen lower lip as Robbie held out a handkerchief.

“He bit his lip when he fell. No real harm, Caro,” Drew answered.

Caro’s fingers pressed against her chest, then reached to brush through George’s hair. He was crying still. She sensed Robbie watching her, but she did not care. George was everything to her. “Poppet,” she whispered, “did you break your horse?”

“Grandpa will buy you another,” Robbie said, his fingers brushing across George’s brow. They touched Caro’s. She pulled her hand away as she met Robbie’s dark gaze.

Her heart raced into a gallop, calling her to flee.

But if Robbie was to be here for the whole summer she must force herself to feel easier with him. “I brought him down because he wished to see you.”

George’s wails had turned to quieter sobs and sniffs. Robbie held his hands out and George reached for him in return. He set his arms about Robbie’s neck as Robbie took him.

Robbie’s ease with George moved something within Caro. If she had given Albert a son he would not have held the child, he would have probably looked into the nursery for a few moments each day and no more. It was more evidence that Robbie’s actions towards her had been nothing more than kindness. He was simply a good-natured young man.

“Mama,” George cried, pressing his face into Robbie’s neckcloth, probably getting blood all over it.

“Your mama is asleep,” Drew ruffled George’s hair. “Iris woke her in the night and she needed to rest. She will be down in a little while.”

Robbie’s gaze lifted to Drew then passed to Caro, and he smiled. It shone in his eyes, not simply parted his lips. He was as open in nature as his sister.

The rhythm of Caro’s heartbeat was painful. Something solid tightened in her chest. He’d smiled at her last night, across the room, and anger and discomfort had taken up their swords and begun a war inside her. That was her irrational madness. But when he’d touched her arm, his fingers had gripped her gently.

“Are you going to join us for tea, Caro? You could act as hostess…” Drew lifted an eyebrow at her. It was a challenge.

Forcing a smile, she looked from Drew to Robbie, fighting the urge to run. Yet, bizarrely, as much as she wished to run, she felt pulled towards Robbie when he smiled again. His smile tried to reassure and pleaded with her to stay.

Her skin burned as she blushed, but she nodded, then turned to lead the way towards the drawing room. A maid was already there, laying out the tea tray. Drew must have ordered it when Robbie arrived.

Caro breathed slowly, trying not to show how hard it was to draw the air past the panic in her chest.

A plate of almond biscuits stood beside the teapot, and as the men came into the room, George released a deep whimper of longing.

Caro picked up the plate and held it out for George, who was still balanced in Robbie’s arms. George took a biscuit and sucked it. Tears stained his cheeks.

Caro’s gaze lifted. Robbie had been watching her again.

“Your neckcloth is ruined,” she said to him.

Drew was watching her too.

Robbie’s hand lifted and he took a biscuit. He had long, slender fingers and beautifully proportioned hands. They looked as gentle as they’d felt.

Albert’s hands had been broad and brutal.

A spasm caught in Caro’s stomach, as though her womb ached.

It is because he’s holding the child
.

Her gaze met Robbie’s again as he bit into the biscuit. She looked at Drew and held out the plate.

~

Rob watched Caroline as they ate breakfast the day after his arrival. He’d experienced a strange sense of recognition,
déjà vu
, when she’d offered him the plate of biscuits as George had held his neck.

Something had passed between them, her eyes had said something he did not understand. Yet after serving their tea she’d disappeared into hiding, leaving Drew to take George to see his mother and Rob to unpack.

She had not come down to dinner.

But this morning she’d risked Rob’s company again. He’d entered the morning room after her and seated himself opposite her. She’d mumbled good morning as he sat, but she had not looked at him.

Rob was unable not to look at her. The more he watched her, the more he became fascinated.

Mary spoke to Caroline about a book she’d read, probably trying to ease Caroline’s discomfort through conversation. Flashes of expressions passed across Caroline’s face, but they never fully formed. She hid her thoughts and emotions as she hid herself. Her smile was tempered and frowns fleeting, and he’d not once in all the years he’d known her, heard her laugh.

Her gaze lifted and the morning sunlight spilling through the windows caught her eyes. It turned them from the hazel with a look of amber to a remarkable gold.

He wished he could make her see he was no risk, that at least with him she might be free of fear.

She looked at Drew.

What would she look like if she were to laugh, while her eyes, cast in gold, sparkled? Rob wished to see her laughing.

I will have her laughing and dancing by the end of the summer.
He smiled as a sound of humour slipped from his throat. It was his idealism speaking. He wished everything ordered as it should be, and no one should feel as restrained as Caroline did. That was why he saw himself in government, because he cared about the people who desperately needed help.

Yet while he worked out how to win himself an elected seat and change the world for them, the aim of bringing Caro out of her shell would give him a purpose he could fulfil more quickly.

Caroline had looked back at him when he’d made a sound, as had Mary. He did not explain it, but looked at Drew. “Is there any interesting news?”