Mama lifted one sleek eyebrow. “He will not stand in the way of your happiness.”
Whether that was a promise or a threat, Caroline could not tell. She shook her head. “I will hurry back.”
Once she left the parlor, she rounded the banister and started up the stairs. A door opened down the corridor, and a familiar voice bled out of Father’s study, causing her to grow still. She leaned against the wall, straining to hear what Tristan was saying, but the voices were too soft.
She debated her options, then snuck up a few steps. Once the voices grew louder, she walked down the stairs as though she had no notion anyone was walking her way.
“Is that you, Caroline?” Father asked.
She peeked over the railing as the men walked down the corridor toward her. “Oh, this is a nice surprise.”
Father let out a sigh. “Indeed. I think you will be very pleased to hear what Mr. Shepherd has to say.”
That could only mean one thing. Father had given his blessing, allowing Tristan to offer for her. She recognized it would mean a life of careful economy, but if she was doing so beside Tristan, she could only be happy.
She stared at her father, surprised he seemed happy by this. The twinkle in his eye was unmistakable, but he had wanted Mr. Dennison for her. Indeed, he was interested in the match that would bring in the most money. Taking a step closer, she shook her head. “I do not understand. You did not seem supportive before.”
Father glanced away, dipping his head almost bashfully, before dragging his attention back to her. “It is obvious some of my choices recently have been less than ideal. For that, I am sorry.” He swallowed, waiting to see if his words had sunk in before continuing. “I am sorry for all I’ve put you through. When it comes to your happiness, Caro, how could I be anything but overjoyed that you are loved by such a good man?”
Her stomach clenched. She could do nothing but nod, accepting Father’s apology with grace. A weight lifted from her shoulders.
“May I have the privilege of speaking to you privately, Miss Whitby?” Tristan asked.
She glanced at her father for permission.
He gave a single nod. “You may speak in the study, if you’d like. I believe your mother would like to see me in the parlor.”
“Thank you, Father.” Caroline hoped he understood themany things she was thanking him for—his change of heart, his apology, his blessing. He winked at her, leading her to believe he did.
Caroline exhaled deeply, marching toward the study the men had recently vacated. She pushed the door open, inhaling the familiar leather and tobacco smells permeating this room. The fire was built up, the warmth nearly overbearing.
Tristan closed the door with a quiet thud. He remained there while Caroline stood beside the plush red chairs set before the fire. His eyes sparkled, raking over her face with naked adoration.
“Your father gave his blessing,” he said needlessly. “Now that I am facing you, I have trouble knowing what to say.”
Caroline took a step toward him. “I might be able to help you along.”
“How so?”
She approached, taking his hand in both of hers. Neither of them wore gloves, and she ran her fingers over his palm, looking at it. “I would tell you I’ve long admired you. Since we were children, in fact, though you never looked at me.”
“I was forced to on occasion,” he argued. “When we would play games in the fields.”
“Exactly. I was never an equal. You, however, have always been above my touch. Until we both grew up, and I learned what a shocking flirt you could be.”
Tristan’s smile grew. “Ah, but that is where you are wrong. I do not flirt with every woman I speak to. I am complimentary, yes, but flirting? I save that for those I have a decidedtendrefor.”
Her heart picked up its pace.
“I would like to flirt with no one else but you for the rest of my life.”
Caroline’s body erupted with warmth. She could not contain her smile. “Forever?”
“Indeed.” He pulled her closer. “There are no others but you, Caroline. You have, for over a month now, lived in my mind and taken up the whole of it.”
“What of your wager?”
“What wager?” he countered, grinning. “It matters little. If I could not have you, I was prepared to lose it.”
