Alaina’s expression said it all.
“Come, come, my chamber.” Caroline took hold of her hand tightly and tried to drag her away. Alaina barely had a chance to grab the tray behind her and then follow her friend. They traipsed up the steps in the house quickly and along the landing. For a few minutes, no words passed between them, an unusual thing, for they so often spent every minute of every day talking together.
As Caroline entered her chamber, she flopped herself down on a chaise longue, sighing, groaning aloud, and thrusting her fists down into the cushioned seat in frustration. Alaina locked the door, laid down the tray, and started to light candles.
“Do you think he will hold true to his word?” Alaina whispered, moving around the room fast with her taper and lighting every candle she could find.
“How long have you been a maid in this household, my friend?” Caroline asked with a heavy sigh. “You know as well as I that once my father has made up his mind, he is as immovable as stone. He is stubborn.” She thrust her fists down into the seat once again. “What am I going to do, Ally?” She used the nickname for Alaina, only ever whispered between them in this room, where they were far away from the rest of the staff.
Alaina stopped with the candles and turned to face her friend.
They were very much a mirror image of one another. Both had long, ebony black hair and thin, narrow faces, but there were differences, too. Caroline had blue eyes and thin lips, bearing perfectly symmetrical beauty. Alaina’s looks were a little more unusual, with full lips and a smile that was often one-sided.
I love her like a sister.
“I … I don’t know,” Alaina whispered, so distracted in trying to think of a solution that her taper burnt down and nearly singed her fingers. She blew it out fast and then sat heavily down in a chair beside her friend. She kneaded her fingers into the poor woollen skirt of her gown, her thoughts moving fast. “If your father cannot be persuaded out of the betrothal –”
“He will not.”
“Then you must find a way to persuade the Duke of Peddleton to withdraw his offer of a proposal.”
Caroline sat up fast on the chaise longue, so quickly, in fact, that she nearly fell straight off the seat. Alaina reached out to steady her, and they clasped hands together. Caroline said nothing for a minute; her lips parted as her eyes darted about the room in deep thought.
“Do you think I could do it?” she asked eventually. “If he has asked me to come to see him first, that would give me the opportunity to dissuade him, would it not?”
Alaina nodded, though she stayed silent for a minute, her thoughts now troubling her. It was often their way. Caroline was the most talkative of the two, and Alaina was the quieter. Although she could talk readily enough in Caroline’s company, sometimes, it was all too easy to be silent. It was how she was in others’ company, preferring to be quiet as a mouse in a corner, where people forgot she existed.
“I know that silence,” Caroline said tremulously. “What is it?”
Alaina was reluctant to speak her thoughts, but Caroline now blinked madly, holding back tears and struggling. Alaina couldn’t refuse her anything at that moment.
“I was thinking …” Alaina paused, chewing her full lip before forcing herself on. “If the Duke of Peddleton has proposed without ever meeting you, then his motive must be your dowry. No amount of you pleading for him to release you from the betrothal may change his mind if this is so.”
“Oh! This is too awful!” Caroline suddenly lost her battle. The tears erupted from her eyes, running down her cheeks fast. “I do not even care for the title of duchess. How could I care when there is love to be had in the world?”
Alaina leaned away, snatching up a handkerchief and drying her mistress’ cheeks with it as best as she could.
“Please, don’t cry.”
“How can I not?” Caroline gasped between hitching breaths. “My father is sending me to a prison.”
“A duke’s household, I imagine, is a little different from a prison, Caro,” Alaina whispered. This was the only room where she ever dared address Caroline without her title.
“You know what I mean.” Caroline took the handkerchief from her and stood, marching up and down in her frustration. “I have always dreamed of marrying for love; what is so awful about that?” She paced in front of the fireplace, burning with soft orange flames. “I have wanted a man who would not only understand me but talk with me into the late hours of the night. A man who would … excite me!” she declared with sudden passion.
“Excite?”
“Oh, come off it, Alaina.” Caroline smiled a little through her tears, casting Alaina a brief glance. “Are you telling me you have never felt an attraction for a man? No stable boy or footman ever caught your eye? Made you think of what could happen between the bedsheets at night?”
“No, they have not!” Alaina exclaimed, backing up in her seat. “Have you seen the stable boys and footmen here?” She was now blushing a deep shade of red, feeling as if her cheeks were on fire.
It was hardly the first time Caroline had alluded to what men and women could do together in the bedchamber, but Alaina knew so little of what could happen that it made her nervous every time they spoke of it. Yet recently, her body had felt heated, too. It seemed that despite her own reserve, her curiosity was piqued.
“Fair point,” Caroline murmured and stopped her pacing. She leaned on the mantelpiece, dabbing her eyes with the handkerchief. “I just always thought I’d meet someone someday who would make everything fall into place. I’d enjoy their company, and I’d look forward to what we could do in the bedchamber.” She waved a frantic hand towards her bed at the far end of the room. “I would dread the thought of going to bed with a stranger.”
Alaina glanced towards the bed, thoughts now burning in her mind. She tamped down her curiosity, knowing she had more important things to consider at this moment.
“Then we must think of a way to get you out of this, Caroline, a way that means you and the Duke of Peddleton will not be pushed into marriage or a bedchamber together at all.”
