Caroline looked at his bland expression, but it was impossible to discern if he was being facetious or teasing her. The man sounded detached.
The second course was brought out. She waited until the footmen had receded before speaking again. She looked around the table. “What about Miss Jeffries? She is very pretty and soft spoken.”
“Her dowry is believed to be small, is it not?” Tristan said.
“Possibly.” Caroline shrugged. “I do not know.”
“I’ve heard that is the case, and if so, she would not suit.”
Caroline lifted her knife and fork and cut a bite from her ham, then chewed it. The standard for which he held against her was much harsher than the one he held himself to. “You mean, I am abhorrent for selecting a man because of his wealth, but it is a perfectly acceptable thing for you to do?”
Tristan lowered his knife and fork. “Of course not.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“I did not put aside a perfectly reasonable match where I would be comfortably situated in order to choose a person who had wealth.”
So that was what he thought of her. That she cared more for fine gowns and nice carriages than people. Let him think what he would. It was better than the truth—that she would marry Dennison because her family needed his money. “Miss Thurston, then?”
“Too quiet.”
“Miss Fern?” she suggested.
“Again, too small a dowry. Besides,” he looked into her eyes, “if I cannot have you, I do not want anyone.”
Caroline’s heart thudded, her breath coming in shallow spurts. She needed to steer the conversation elsewhere. “Goodness, what is your opinion of a decent dowry?”
“Enough to sustain a marriage. I will receive my parents’ Town house one day, but no funds. It is important my wife has something so we can properly set up our home.”
Caroline’s stomach sank clear to the floor. Even if her family did not need money to keep their estate, she still would not have been able to accept a proposal from Tristan, not when he needed a wife with money. “It is as bad as that?”
He glanced at her, a small shadow creasing the line on his brow. “I am no fortune-seeker, Caro.”
“No, of course not. You merely wish to be comfortablysettled. It is a reasonable goal. It is the one I initially set out to accomplish as well.”
“What changed for you, then?” he asked.
She swallowed, pulling her gaze from him. It was difficult to talk to him when she felt herself wanting to draw closer, but she knew she could not. The way he watched her now, curiously, she found herself telling him the truth. “Certain things which are outside of my control have led me to need to make decisions for the greater good of my family. It is something I know you would understand.”
“Somethinghashappened, then.” His eyes locked on her in a different way, the apathy gone. “I knew you could not be so distant without reason.”
She shook her head lightly. “It hardly matters. Now, tell me whether you have any preferred hair color?—”
“You, Caro. I prefer you.”
She clamped her mouth closed. Was he not listening?
He leaned closer. “Tell me what occurred and I will do my best to make it right.”
All around them, people were finishing their meals. Caroline had hardly touched hers, but she found her appetite had fled.
“I can’t speak of it,” she hissed.
“Caro—”
“Icannot.”
Tristan watched her, his eyes boring down upon her, but he didn’t press the matter.
