Caroline’s eyes lit up. “You have? How fantastic. I would love to see it.” She glanced back at the proprietress who had been tiding up a table filled with fabric. “Good day, Madame Chaumont.”
“Good day, Lady Caroline. I will contact you when the dresses are ready for a fitting.”
He led Caroline out the door onto the busy street. “Let’s find a hack. It’s not far, but I know you are tired.”
It didn’t take too long to hire a carriage, and they were soon ensconced in the semi-privacy of the hackney. They arrived at the stucco townhome he had rented for the next six months.The soft blue shutters and green ivy climbing the walls made the house look cheerful and inviting. He hoped Grace would feel comfortable and safe here.
He helped Caroline down from the hack. “The house is sparsely furnished, and it could use a cleaning. I haven’t hired any staff yet, but I did move my things from The Worthington yesterday.”
He took out a key and unlocked the front door. Caroline barreled into the entrance hall. She glanced around at the space. The far wall held a small fountain that gurgled gently amid large leafy ferns. Wide polished wooden stairs led to the first floor. Caroline walked to her left and peeked into the dining room. Nodding her head in approval, she continued to the next door. “What is this room meant to be? There is naught but a fireplace in here.”
“I have no idea. I hoped you and Grace would tell me what everything should be.”
“Could make a cozy study for you. It has a nice view of the back garden.” She shut the door and came back into the hall. She set down her parasol on an empty console table, then reached up to unpin her hat. The movement stretched the fabric of her dress across her breasts. He vividly remembered how soft her skin had felt when she had been in his arms at the bacchanal. Those few caresses, the feel of her body against his, had dominated his dreams the past few nights. He tugged off his hat and gloves. Bringing her here seemed dangerous all of a sudden.
“Perhaps we should have stopped to get your maid? I’d not planned to have you here by yourself. I thought Grace would come along as well.”
Caroline headed up the stairs. “Never mind about that. We are engaged. I have a bit more leeway with the rules now.” She called out over her shoulder.
Cage took the stairs two at a time to catch up with her. The first floor had a large drawing room in the front. “Lovely and bright,” Caroline observed. “Although I don’t care for the pink. My mother likes pink as well, but I would paint it a rich dark blue to highlight all the beautiful white moldings in my own house. And definitely no cherubs.”
Cage glanced around the room. He had done a walkthrough with his man of business, who had found the place for him. He had mostly just assessed room size, light, and whether any repairs were needed. The style of the furnishing and wall coverings hadn’t even registered. He would leave all that to Grace if she would like to change anything. The room held two seating areas with ample space for guests to move about in between. The furniture looked comfortable enough.
He shrugged. “I’ll have Grace make any changes if she would like. It’s just temporary until I can find a proper house outside of London. Somewhere she can ride her horses.”
Caroline tilted her head. “Didn’t the old earl have a house in town?”
“I sold it.” That had been his first order of business. Selling off all the properties the old man had used. He never wanted to live anywhere that bastard had called home. The only thing left was the entailed property, Taitlands Park. He wished he could burn it to the ground. But as it was, he left it to be run by the land steward. He took care of its skeleton staff and the tenants, but he hadn’t stepped foot on the property since Anne’s funeral.
Caroline crossed the corridor to the back room. This room was empty except for a large pianoforte. The wood parquet floors flowed in an intricate pattern across the long space. A large marble fireplace lay at the far end. “This room would be your entertaining space, a music room. Look at all this space for dancing.” She twirled around in a lively two-step with an imaginary partner.
He grinned and stepped forward to grab her around the waist. Changing the tempo, he led her in a Viennese waltz across the floor, enjoying having her in his arms again. He spun her around in a tight circle, picking her up off her feet. Her eyes sparkled as she laughed and clutched at his shoulders. His heart, long ago locked away for fear of precisely this, beat wildly in his chest. He stumbled, as the realization that he was in love with Caroline Langdon blew through him.
He gripped her closer as he tried to regain his balance without falling and crushing her. They came to a full stop. “Sorry,” he mumbled as he set her back on her feet.
Inside, his whole world had tilted on its side. He absolutely could not be in love with Caroline. She was reckless and fierce and far too independent. She didn’t need anyone. She would gain her portion and live her life exactly as she saw fit. He ran a finger under his collar as he tried to swallow. Caroline Langdon was an assignment, the engagement a way to keep her safe. He sucked in a deep breath to tamp down the panic as his heart laughed cruelly at his desperate rationalizations.
Caroline pointed to the newspaper peeking out from his jacket pocket. “Is that the newestSpectator?”
He glanced down. “Um, yes, but before you read it, let’s go into the drawing room, and I’ll pour you a glass of wine.”
One eyebrow arched, and she reached out and snatched the paper. “When did you pick up a copy?” She glanced down, and her loud gasp told him she’d read the headline. Caroline was silent and still as she read the whole article. Then she looked up and met his gaze. “Bloody hell.”
Chapter 30
“It is very complimentary. The writer makes you out to be a hero. And rightly so.”
Caroline sighed. “You’re correct about one thing. I need a drink.” She walked back across the hall to the drawing room.
Morgan grabbed a bottle of wine and two small wine glasses from a nearby credenza to bring to the low table in front of one of the settees. He filled a glass halfway and handed it to her.
Caroline drained the glass and held it out for him to pour her more.
He poured her one more small measure. “The article isn’t what you expected, but she did preserve your anonymity, at least. Everyone will know exactly who Lord D is. The rumors already swirl about his party.”
Bloody hell. Ms. Sullivan had double-crossed her. Vigilante indeed! The story was not supposed to be about her, damn it. She paced to the window to stare out at the street that was empty but for a single cart of vegetables parked outside the house across the way. A burly man carrying a crate of potatoes disappeared down the steep steps into the cellar below.
Caroline turned on her heel and paced back across the plush carpeting. “When I wrote her all the details, it was so she could paint a lurid picture of what happened during the party. Not for her to feature me.”
