LADY MANN’S MUSICALE
Caroline sat in the third row from the front as they waited for the announcement to signify that the musicians were prepared to begin their performance. The rows in front and behind her group were noticeably vacant.
Because Caroline had tumbled down the steps at her own come-out. Because no one wanted to associate with the girl who’d flipped her skirts up for the whole world to see.
Caroline marveled that the invitations hadn’t ceased coming in altogether.
“Did Reed agree to make the donation?” she whispered.
“Oh, yes.” Goldie looked even prettier than usual in a royal-blue silk that matched the color of her eyes. Goldie’s older sister, the Baroness Westcott, sat on her opposite side conversing with Caroline’s mother.
The two young women were daughters of the Duke of Crossings, but both had been disowned for marrying beneath them. Caroline glanced between them. Although both women had blonde hair and lovely blue eyes, their similarities ended there.
Goldie was pretty, plump, and effusive whereas the older girl, Baron Westcott’s wife, was taller, slim, and kept her opinions to herself, possessing an almost ethereal beauty.
She loved her younger sister, however, and would do anything to protect her. That was all Caroline cared about.
“Does your sister know?” Caroline whispered by Goldie’s ear.
“Some, not all. Telling Nia would risk Baron Westcott knowing as well. And if Westcott knows, we can’t be sure he wouldn’t tell Reed.”
Goldie lifted her chin, indicating Reed’s presence across the room, involved in what looked like a serious conversation with Lord Westcott and a second gentleman—a marquess, if she remembered correctly—one who not only dressed with flair, but was almost as handsome as he was beautiful.
Baron Westcott and Reed had known one another for as long as Caroline could remember, having met the first year they’d entered school.
“Good thinking,” Caroline agreed.
“Oh! Also, I thought you’d like to know—I added three other charity events to his schedule after you left today.”
“Perfect.” And it was, so long as people knew about these donations—and they would—because Caroline would make sure they did by writing about them for her society section.
Without consciously doing so, she found her gaze constantly sliding to the entrance… hoping… wishing…
Mr. Black had said he only attended ton events when it was absolutely necessary—for his mother’s sake. It was why Caroline hadn’t recognized him as a gentleman that day in the park.
She should not expect him. He had more important work to do.
And yet, she inexplicably found herself looking around the room for her employer’s glowering face.
After he’d finished his tour and then excused himself, Caroline had taken a few hours to familiarize herself with the rest of the newspaper’s offices. She’d waited a short while for the other reporters to return but had been disappointed.
Mr. Black never returned, and apparently the other reporters weren’t expected until early in the evening.
By the time the clock struck four in the afternoon, Mr. Wallace had insisted she go home. He assured her that she could turn in her story about the musicale the following day.
Caroline had hoped she’d accomplish more, but with nothing to do, with nothing yet to write about, she had packed up her notes and walked back to Mayfair.
Rather than return home right away, however, she’d instead visited her sister-in-law so the two could further develop part one of Caroline’s plan for rehabilitating her brother’s reputation.
Which involved ramping up his benevolent efforts. Because… why would a person disparage his name when he might make a sizable donation to their favorite charity?
Goldie would orchestrate his donations and Caroline would ensure they were all mentioned in her society articles.
Caroline forced herself to face front until she felt the entrance of Lady Mann’s grand music hall open again. She instinctively pivoted just in time to see Lady Helton step inside.
And she was not alone, but escorted by her son, Mr. Black. The Earl of Helton.
Caroline’s heart leapt for no reason at all.
