It was unfair of Caroline to string Mr. Dennison along once her mind was made up. She had given Tristan the same courtesy, informing him when she had decided to marry someone else. Only, he had opted not to heed her.
It turned out to be a very good thing he didn’t.
In the case of Mr. Dennison, though, he deserved to set his sights elsewhere. Caroline was firm in her decision to marry Tristan, and even if she was not, it was clear she would not be happy as Mrs. Dennison. Her happiness mattered. Father would, hopefully, agree.
She waited for Lottie to put in the last of her pins. “It’s raining outside, miss.”
“I don’t think the weather recalls that we are nearly entering summer.”
“No, it must not.” Lottie looked to the window, the gray overcast light shining on the golden curls peeking out of her cap. She slid the last pin in and stepped back. “All finished, miss. I can help you dress now.”
Once Caroline had donned her pale green walking dressand heavy pelisse, she arranged her bonnet in place and tied the ribbon.
A knock came at her door and she crossed to open it. Mama stood there, pulling on her gloves. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” Caroline drew in a shaky breath.
Mama glanced up. “You’ve nothing to be nervous about. He will be grateful to be cut from your hook.”
They did not agree on that score, but the task needed to be completed anyway.
After Caroline had escaped to the ladies’ retiring room at the ball, her mother had found her leaving it, and the entire ordeal had spilled from Caroline’s lips. She didn’t know the best way to handle her father nor Mr. Dennison nor the economic future that lay ahead of her, but she felt confident in her choice in husband, and she was gratified when her mother seemed to share that opinion.
“Shall we hurry and complete this task?” Mama asked.
“Yes.”
They found James in the entryway, accepting his hat from Pomfrey. He placed it on his head, the ends of his golden hair peeking from beneath the brim, and looked in the mirror to ascertain he was happy with it. He was dressed sharply, his brow steady in concentration.
“Where are you off to?” Mama asked.
James’s mouth quirked into a smile. “To convince Mr. Fielding to give me his blessing.”
Her head tilted to the side, emotion clouding her eyes. “Oh, darling. You will do splendidly.”
James didn’t appear as confident. “And you ladies? You look ready to arm yourselves for war.”
“Our errand is much less pleasant,” Mama said.
Caroline wrinkled her nose. “I am off to give Mr.Dennison a hint that he might want to look elsewhere for a wife.”
“That’s good of you, Caro. No use in letting the man dangle after you.”
“There’s been nodangling.”
“Not anymore, at least.” James flashed a smile. “I shall find a hackney. Good luck.”
“I would say the same to you, but I have a feeling you will not need it,” Caroline said.
James fairly bounced as he left.
Caroline and her mother took the carriage to Mr. Dennison’s house in Brook Street and found themselves in his small drawing room not twenty minutes later. It was tastefully decorated in pale blue and cream—likely the work of his mother.
When he entered the room, it was with heavy breathing and a harried expression. His tall, lanky form was dressed in simple day clothes and riding boots. “Forgive me—I was not expecting company.” He bowed. “Would you like tea?”
“I’m afraid we cannot stay long.” Mama gave Caroline a speaking glance. “Caro had something to discuss with you.”
His brow furrowed. “Oh?”
