“You and I need to talk. Privately,” Jack muttered.
Cage nodded. It was inevitable that Jack would be upset. One did not debauch your best friend’s sister. Not that he would ever admit that to Jack. But Jack was more than aware of his reputation with ladies.
Vivian glanced back and forth between the two of them. “Later.” She pointed one slim finger at each of them. “Remember, you two are friends. That’s all I will say.”
****
“Andrew, what is making you frown tonight?” Emma asked her husband.
“Look at the two of them.” He nodded at his sister and Lord Wrotham.
Caroline sat on one end of a settee speaking with Lady Grendel, her posture straight as a pin and her expression one of polite interest. But Emma could see the strain around her smile. Caroline’s eyes darted briefly over to Wrotham, who stood a few feet away speaking to Lord Cunningham. He threw back a glass of whiskey.
“Neither of them have said more than a few polite words to each other for two whole days. I had them placed on the same scavenger hunt team, but they hardly spoke. I told them they must dance last night, but after one turn around the floor, they did not speak the rest of the night. Look at them stealing glances at each other. They are both miserable.”
Wrotham’s gaze tracked Caroline as she rose and crossed the room. The dark circles under his eyes spoke volumes about how he’d been sleeping. Emma sighed. Andrew was right. Something was wrong. The happiness that shone in Caroline’s eyes last week was gone.
“Who is miserable?” Vivian joined them.
“Caroline and her fiancé. I know she is angry about how I managed things with the letters, but she shouldn’t be angry with him.”
“Andrew has been doing a poor job of trying to push them to talk with each other,” Emma said.
“Hey!” Andrew scowled.
She exchanged a look with Vivian. “I think we can solve this problem if we put our heads together.”
“Yes, Caroline loves to paint in the mornings in the west tower. The light is excellent,” Vivian mused.
“And tomorrow at breakfast, I’m sure I can send Wrotham to fetch something important for me from the tower. I’ll make sure to give him specific directions since he is not familiar with this big house,” Emma said.
Vivian nodded. “Perhaps the door can get stuck. These things happen.”
Andrew’s gaze tracked back and forth between Emma and Vivian. He shook his head. “The two of you are diabolical.”
Chapter 42
“Thank you, Lord Wrotham. I just don’t want the trunk damaged by a careless servant. It belonged to my mother.” The duchess looked up at him with wide concerned eyes.
“It would be my pleasure to fetch it for you. Which way to the west tower?”
“I’ll come with you. I know which trunk you speak of, Emma.” Vivian spoke up from behind him.
Cage turned around to face Jack’s wife. “All right. Lead the way, my lady.”
They left the breakfast room, crossed the foyer, and made their way up the front stairs. After climbing two flights, they turned left.
“I hope Jack hasn’t bothered you about your engagement. I told him to quit being so suspicious and just be happy for the two of you.” Vivian shook her head.
“No, he hasn’t tried to rip my head off so far.” Cage had successfully avoided having to be alone with Jack the past two days. It hadn’t been difficult as the house filled up with guests arriving to celebrate Caroline’s birthday.
“Here we are.” She opened a door at the end of the corridor. “They keep unused furniture and other storage trunks in the tower. The two towers are the oldest part of the manor. Watchtowers for the original keep. Because they are unheated, they are unsuitable for living spaces.”
They walked through the threshold. On the other side of the doorway, the walls were stone instead of stucco. Sunlight streamed through beautiful, mullioned windows and splayed across the stone floor of a large circular room. Across the room, stone stairs spiraled up to the next level. The room had all manner of items stacked neatly in various piles. Several faded settees held wooden boxes and carpet bags of various sizes. Anintricately carved doll’s house sat next to a rolled-up rug that leaned vertically against the wall.
“The trunk is about this big.” Vivian held her arms out to demonstrate. “The top is inlaid with mother of pearl flowers. You go on upstairs and look around. I’ll search down here.”
He shrugged and headed to climb the stairs. As he reached the top, his breath caught. Caroline stood in the sunshine, a paintbrush clasped between her teeth, her brow furrowed as she gazed at a half-finished painting of…him. Her dark hair was pinned half up; the majority of it tumbled down her back in a waterfall of dark silk. God, he missed how her hair felt running through his fingers or brushing against his naked chest when she leaned over to press her lips against his. He missed seeing her smile at him and the desire in her eyes when the two of them were alone.
