“That would be selfish of me. I have two younger sisters and if I allow them to chase me away, it’ll reflect poorly on them.” She laughed a little. “Melanie would likely thank me, but Josephine would never speak to me again.” At his baffled expression, she went on to explain that Josephine, although only six and ten, was already campaigning to enter society the following year.
“But the middle sister is reluctant?”
“Yes. Melanie is just a few years younger than me but…” Melanie was not the same girl she’d been before the tragedy. “She’s less inclined than I am.” Caroline stared at her hands, clasped loosely in her lap. “And of course, I must consider my mother’s ambitions for me…”
“So you are here out of duty,” he said.
“Like you.”
If she hadn’t been watching him closely, she would have missed the slow smile that stretched his mouth.
“You, Lady Caroline, are quite entertaining,” he said.
Caroline frowned. Was that a compliment or an insult?
"How so?"
He mulled over his response before answering.
"In a world where no one is who they seem, you speak your mind freely—you sweep out the cobwebs with your opinions.” He lowered his gaze to her mouth. “I find your utter lack of pretentiousness… invigorating."
She would take his admission as a compliment—even if it was grudgingly given.
Grateful it was mostly dark, Caroline turned away, embarrassed and a little confused.
"I wasn’t meant for any of this,” she whispered, staring across the vast garden. “But everyone knows that.” And why, oh why was she telling him these things? He was an earl, which made him one of them.
The ton.
She was never going to act like a proper lady. She was made differently than other girls her age.
“Perhaps not,” he agreed without even a hint of apology. “And yet your brother is Standish. And you are here.”
The stern tone of his voice jerked her back to face him.
“As are you.” Because she’d been attending these blasted events for over a fortnight now and not once did she recall seeing Lord Helton in attendance.
But before she could point that out to him, he slid one arm along the back of the bench.
“Tell me,” he said. “What else did the Gazette get wrong today?” He crossed one long leg over the other and Caroline couldn’t help but notice how his breeches hugged his thighs and calves. Rather nicely, actually. “Surely there was more than one error.”
He stared at her from hooded eyes. The moonlight caught the green again, and this time her heart skipped a beat.
“Why?” She’d concluded that the Earl of Helton had only asked her to dance out of pity. And then, on the heels of a few half-compliments, she thought he might be attracted to her. But he wasn’t flirting—not really.
He lifted one elegant shoulder before answering. “You’re an intelligent young woman. Consider me intrigued by all this research you’ve conducted.”
Very well… Caroline leaned forward, glanced to her left and right, and then lowered her voice. “He got the date wrong,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“The date listed across the top, just above the masthead. It was tomorrow’s.”
Rather than laugh, as she’d expected, he stiffened.
“You’re joking.” His brows lowered.
Caroline shook her head. “I wish I was.”
