The marquis was beginning to look fatigued, and Caroline suggested that they return to the dining room for dessert. Once they were settled, Viscount Claymere begged, rather dramatically, to be allowed to join them, and then Terrence St. James requested an introduction and also sat down.
Caroline quickly tired of the competitive way both the viscount and the bold St. James fought for her attention. She happened to look up and saw Bradford standing across the room, watching her. A woman Caroline could only describe as stunning clung to his side and was looking up at him with adoration in her eyes.
Bradford held a glass of wine in his hand and tilted it as a greeting and perhaps a toast, Caroline thought. She nodded and was about to lift her glass to return the gesture when the viscount leaned forward and knocked the piece of crystal out of her hand. The linen tablecloth was saturated with champagne but Caroline ignored it as she tried to calm the viscount. He was making quite a scene with his apologies and she had to grit her teeth and listen through it.
When he was finally quieted, she looked up again and saw that the accident had provided much entertainment for the Duke of Bradford. His grin reached from one ear to the other.
Caroline found herself smiling in return and then shook her head and returned to the conversation going on around her. St. James kept grabbing hold of her hand and she had to keep pulling it away.
The night finally drew to a close. Caroline hugged her uncle and promised, for the tenth time, to visit him the day after tomorrow for tea. She and Charity then said their farewells and expressed their pleasure over the evening to the Duke of Ashford.
"What did Bradford speak to you about?" Caroline asked when her father finished listening to Charity's descriptions of her evening.
"He will call on you tomorrow," her father announced. He sounded very satisfied. "Told him that he was the fifth to ask my permission," he said with a chuckle. "He didn't like that bit of news, I can tell you."
"Bradford is pursuing Caroline," Charity remarked.
"I believe that most of London's male population is in pursuit," the earl said. "But your cousin isn't the only one to receive invitations. I've had a flood of requests for your attention, too, Charity."
"You have?" Charity didn't sound overly pleased with her uncle's news.
"Yes, and we must go over all of them tomorrow. I imagine you will both receive flowers and messages, although it has been years since I've done any actual courting and the rituals might have changed a bit, I dare say. Hard to keep abreast of the latest doings, you understand."
Charity's alarmed expression increased the more her uncle went on about the suitable men wanting her attention. Caroline caught her eye and shook her head, signaling her to keep her silence. She didn't want her father's pleasure to be diminished and would have a long talk with Charity as soon as they were alone.
Charity caught the message and nodded. Caroline tried to concentrate on her father's conversation but Bradford's face kept intruding. She suddenly pictured Clarence, her Boston suitor. And then Clarence and Bradford were standing side by side in her mind's eye and Caroline heard herself groan. The comparison between the two men was laughable. Clarence was still a boy, Bradford a man. Clarence had always reminded Caroline of one of the new foals on the farm, awkward and terribly unsure of himself whenever he was around her. Bradford, on the other hand, reminded Caroline of her favorite stallion. Bradford was strong, vital! His stance indicated confidence and strength. She wondered if, like her stallion, he possessed endurance as well. That consideration gave her a moment's pause. Would he endure in his desire to have her? It was a bizarre comparison and Caroline blamed her exhaustion for these ridiculous thoughts.
Chapter Six
Caroline had decided that she would discuss Paul Bleachley with Charity in the morning, after her cousin had had a good night's sleep.
She went into Charity's bedroom to say good night and found her cousin propped up in bed, weeping into one of the plump goose-feather pillows she clutched to her breasts.
"You were right all along," Charity told Caroline between sobs. "He wasn't honorable at all. I'm having the most unkind thoughts, Caroline. I do wish you'd go with me to find him and shoot him for me."
Caroline smiled and sat down on the side of Charity's bed. "That is an unkind thought," she agreed. "But I was the one mistaken about Bleachley, not you, Charity. From now on, I'll listen to you whenever men are involved. Your instincts were correct."
"Are you teasing me?" She mopped her eyes on the pillow casing and sat up a little straighter. "You know something, don't you? Tell me!"
"Bleachley was injured in the explosion in Boston. Do you remember that night, Charity? When the harbor was in flames and we could see the orange glow from our bedroom window?"
"Yes, of course I remember. Oh, God, tell me what happened to him." Charity's agony made Caroline rush through the rest of her story.
"What shall I do?" Charity asked when Caroline had finished recounting the story. "Bradford told you that he won't even see his friends. My poor Paul! The pain he must be suffering." She started weeping again, and Caroline felt completely helpless.
For several minutes Charity continued to cry, until her pillow was soaked. Caroline listened until her heart couldn't take one more sob. She frantically tried to think of a plan, discarding one absurd idea after another. If only Charity wasn't so loud when she cried!
And then it all came together. She smiled at her cousin and said, "If you have finished with your tears, I believe there is a way. It means that I'll have to ask a favor of Bradford, but there's no help for it."
"What?" Charity took hold of Caroline's hands and squeezed them with all her might. Although she was small in stature, Caroline thought her grip felt Herculean.
"The idea is to get Paul alone and convince him that you truly love him, correct?"
Charity nodded so vigorously that her hair came undone from the knot on top of her head.
"Bradford will gain us admittance," Caroline announced, warming to her plan. "I'll take care of that. The rest will be up to you, Charity. My plan requires that you play a difficult role. You can't be nice! That would ruin everything."
"I don't understand," Charity admitted, frowning now.
"Remember the morning I brought Benjamin into the house?"
"Yes. I was so frightened when I walked into the kitchen and found him sitting there with a knife in his hand."
"But you didn't show that you were afraid. And neither did your brothers. Remember how Caimen introduced himself and insisted on shaking Benjamin's hand?"
"Yes, but what does that have to do with Paul?"
"Let me finish," Caroline insisted. "Benjamin was so distrustful of us but everyone just acted like it was the most common thing in the world to find him there. Then Mama came in, took one look at him, and immediately stated that she would take care of his cuts. Poor Ben never stood a chance. She had him bandaged and fed and in bed before he could say a word. If I remember correctly, he never did let go of the knife. I think he slept with it that first day."
Caroline smiled, thinking how compassionate her aunt had been, and then continued. "Now then, if you let Paul know… I mean to say, if you show the least bit of compassion or pity, well, it just won't do." She continued with her explanation and, by the time she had finished, felt confident that it would really work out. They talked for another hour and Caroline finally announced that they must get some rest.
"But we haven't discussed your evening, Caroline. I have to tell you the compliments I heard about you! You did cause an uproar. Every lady there was filled with envy. And every man sought an introduction through your father, did you know that? Oh, there is so much to recount. Did you know that your Uncle Franklin was there and didn't even come over to meet you? Yes, he was there," Charity continued in a rush. "Your other uncle, the marquis, what a dear old man! Well, he pointed Franklin out to me and then he waved to get his brother's attention, but Franklin just turned his back on the two of us and walked away."