“That you wouldlike tois enough,” Kitty said. “But I wish to leave.”
Caroline was feeling a trifle fatigued herself, but decided not to mention it. Instead, she pasted a bright smile on her face, kept her mask in place, and allowed the men to lead the way out of the gardens and back toward the bridge where they would find their carriage.
It was not until she was settled safely inside, theconveyance rocking gently with the turning wheels, that something occurred to her. “Oh, drat.”
“What is it?” Tristan asked, seated across from her. His brown eyes were dark, but light from the torch through the window made them shimmer.
“I left my gloves at the supper box.”
“No, Caro,” Kitty said through a fresh bout of tears, taking this upon herself as well. “I will purchase you a new pair.”
“Nonsense. It is not your fault.”
Kitty wailed. “This entire evening is my fault.”
Caroline drew her arm around her friend’s shoulder and rubbed her back softly. She wouldn’t argue the point further, but she also couldn’t help feeling grateful Kitty understood the gravity of the situation. Perhaps it would mean she would be more cautious in the future.
By the time their carriage reached Berkeley Square, Kitty had fallen asleep.
“Shall we wake her?” James asked softly.
“We must, I suppose.” Caroline squeezed her friend’s shoulder. “Kitty, we are home.”
Tristan climbed from the carriage and held a hand out for the women. When Kitty was sufficiently roused, she allowed him to hand her down onto the street but did not release his arm. He led her into the house, James and Caroline behind them.
Once they had closed the door, Caroline took Kitty’s hand from Tristan’s sleeve. “I will take it from here. Thank you.”
His brown eyes were locked on her. “May I come by in the morning? I would like to finish our conversation at a more appropriate time.”
“Of course.” Butterflies flapped about her chest when sherecalled the moment in the garden. His lips had been so close to hers, his arms surrounding her. Anticipation of continuing along that path bubbled within her.
Tristan bowed. “Then I bid you a good night.”
James waited at the door for him to leave, then shot Caroline a look. “You and Tristan? Do say more.”
“There is nothing to speak of.”
“Yet?” Kitty asked, coming out of her melancholy briefly.
“I would appreciate your discretion on the matter,” Caroline reminded them as they began to make their way up the stairs.
A door in the landing on the first floor creaked open, and footsteps met them at the top of the staircase. Mama looked down at them, frowning slightly. “Did Mrs. Hough not bring you home? Were you not under her care this evening?”
Caroline searched for a proper explanation.
Mama pasted a smile on her face when she noticed Kitty.
“We have a guest this evening,” Caroline said, moving to step around her mother while she was distracted. “She can remain in my room.”
“Of course, darling.” Mama looked at James, a faint line forming between her eyebrows. “I have good news.”
Caroline stopped.
Mama clasped her hands in front of her. “Your father has come home.”
A slow feeling of numbness trailed through Caroline’s body, though she couldn’t credit it. The news was meant to be good, but her mother had delivered it with such a hint of foreboding Caroline couldn’t feel easy about the matter.
“Where is he now?” James asked.
