“Perhaps by love. That’s a smitten look if I ever saw one.” Margaret countered.
Emma smiled and patted her hand. “Well, of course, she’s smitten. Lord Wrotham is a fine fellow.”
Caroline could feel her cheeks warm as everyone at the table stared at her. She wasn’t smitten. Well, perhaps a bit. “Nonsense.”
Andrew’s newspaper came down from in front of his face. “Who’s smitten?”
“Your sister. Gilchrest, pay attention,” Emma scolded.
Andrew gazed at her thoughtfully. “Is it true, Caroline? Are you smitten?”
Caroline glanced at her mother then back to Andrew and Emma, who sat at the end of the table. She wasn’t fooling anyone. Her family knew her best. She took a bite of toast and washed it down with a sip of tea. “Well, we spent a very nice afternoon together yesterday, and yes, perhaps I am becoming a bit smitten with him. Is that so very bad? I’m supposed to marry him, after all.” She took another gulp of tea.
A smile bloomed across her mother’s face. “There is nothing wrong with having affection for your betrothed. I’m very pleased to hear it.”
“We just never thought we see you fall in love with anyone.” Abagail chimed in.
“Abby, hush,” Emma said to her sister.
“Well, she’s turned down so many blokes.” Abagail shrugged. She picked up her fork and speared a sausage.
Caroline grinned. She dug into her eggs; she was famished. There was only a little over a month until her birthday and she needed to persuade Cage Morgan to forget their previous deal. What would her plan be to convince the man that he couldn’t live without her?
“Your Grace, your sister is here to see you.” Holmes intoned from the doorway.
“Thank you, Holmes. I’ll be right out. I think I will meet with her in my private sitting room. I need to put my feet up.” Emma tried to shove her chair back.
Andrew stood quickly and waved the footman away. He pulled back Emma’s chair and helped his wife to her feet. “Do you need help getting upstairs?”
“Nonsense. I’m pregnant, not an invalid.” She batted at his hand on her elbow. Then she slowly crossed the room where Holmes waited with the door open.
Her brother gazed at the door. A deep groove marred his brow. Then he sat down with a sigh. Caroline gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sure she doesn’t mean to be short with you.”
“It’s all right. She’s always been prickly about having anyone take care of her. Even me.”
Margaret nodded. “She hates to feel helpless. Don’t worry. Lucy will be able to cheer her up.”
Half an hour later, Caroline walked through the front hall toward the main staircase. Holmes was heading down the main stairs. “Ah, Lady Caroline, you’ve saved me a trip to find you. The duchess requested you join her and Lady Davenport in her rooms.”
“All right. Thank you, Holmes.”
Caroline headed up the stairs and to the right toward Andrew and Emma’s suite. She knocked on the door to Emma’s sitting room.
“Come in.”
When Caroline entered the room, both Emma and Lucy looked over at her with grim expressions. Uh oh. “What’s happened?”
“Sit down.” Emma lay on her favorite divan. Her legs stretched out, and her feet elevated with several pillows. “Show her.” She nodded at her sister.
Lucy leaned forward and set a newspaper down on the tea table between them. A copy ofThe Spectator.Oh, dear.
Caroline spread her skirts and sat. No need to worry. They probably just wanted to share some tidbit they read. They couldn’t possibly know the article was about her.
Emma pointed to the paper. “Is that you? Are you the vigilante?”
Damnation.Her friends speared her with questioning looks.
“No, of course not.” Caroline bit her lower lip.
