With their mother.
“I’m not sure I should write it, though,” she said. If she wrote that story, Goldie and Lady Westcott’s father would learn they’d spent time with their mother. The Duke of Crossings wasn’t the sort one wanted to cross unless necessary.
“Why the devil not?”
“If the Duke of Crossings thinks the duchess wants to reconcile with his daughters, if he even thinks she’s providing them comfort, he’s like to put a stop to it. And Goldie misses her mother terribly. I can’t imagine being cut off like that.” Her family was everything to her!
She felt Mr. Black’s stare—this time, disapproving.
“That isn’t our problem, my lady.” Before she could argue, he’d turned his attention to just beyond her shoulder. “Don’t look now, but your brother is approaching.”
Not now, Reed!
She would have moaned if she’d had time. Instead, her mind raced to come up with some excuse—any plausible reason for standing alone with the Earl of Helton.
Caroline turned just in time to meet her brother’s questioning eyes.
“Reed!” She welcomed him with what was most likely a too-bright smile, snatching her hand off Mr. Black’s arm.
But she wasn’t quick enough, and Reed’s stare flicked from her hand to her face—and then to Mr. Black.
Neither looked happy.
“I believe you are acquainted with the Earl of Helton?”
Reed dipped his chin. “Black.”
“Rutherford.”
Caroline glanced between them, the air suddenly thick with a palpable tension.
“I didn’t realize you had been introduced to my sister.” Reed’s comment was more of an accusation, really.
This was why she wasn’t keen on letting her brother know about her plan. She had no doubt he’d want her to have nothing to do with the newspaper owner—not after being blackmailed by him a few weeks after the fire and reading the latest gossip last week.
Little love existed between these two.
“Lord Helton claimed the supper dance with me at Lady Darlington’s ball this week.” Caroline tried to meet her brother’s gaze, but it was firmly locked with Mr. Black’s.
Please don’t make a scene. Please don’t make a scene.
“With my mother’s approval, I hope?” Reed’s fists clenched at his side and Caroline suddenly imagined worst case scenarios between these two. Such as a fight breaking out before the music could begin—or her brother challenging Mr. Black to a duel.
A public skirmish would not help Reed’s circumstances when it came time to convince her employer to refrain from printing any of the horrible and untrue allegations rippling through the gossip mill.
Caroline held Reed’s stare meaningfully. “Of course he had Mother’s approval. He is an earl,” she pointed out. “An earl who was kind enough to partner with me for the supper dance.”
It took a moment, but Reed eventually caught her meaning.
But just in case he did not, Caroline claimed Mr. Black’s arm once again.
Only when Reed’s brows shot up did she realize her mistake.
“Indeed?” Reed met Mr. Black’s stare again—this time with an altogether different expression. Because since coming out, no one had asked Caroline to dance without being coerced first.
“He’s an excellent dancer,” she added, turning just in time to see her employer roll his eyes toward the chandelier hanging above them.
She thanked her lucky stars that Reed missed the exasperated look.
