“I assume the same happens every Season.”
“Except I will not be in attendance at the upcoming one.”
“Had you hoped to return home in time to attend?”
“Yes,” he answered. “I only planned on being here a fortnight at the most then sail to Madeira, visit with my brother, Elliot, then return to England, which would have me arriving in London in May.”
“Do you enjoy the Season so much?” she asked in surprise.
“No, I do not, but it is a necessity since it is time that I must settle on a wife. I thought to pick one from those available in the ballrooms of London.” He hadn’t meant for his tone to be so disparaging, but he truly dreaded the process of what was to come.
“Then I hope that we can begin the harvest soon so that you are not delayed in your quest,” she offered with humor.
“Do you find my discomfort amusing, Mrs. Sutcliffe?”
“Not at all, Lord Wyndham. I am just humored to see that how a bachelor lord approaches a Season filled with misses ready to wed never changes.”
It likely never would.
“Perhaps I am no longer in a hurry,” he offered before he took a sip of wine. “Maybe my mother was correct in that I need to take a holiday.”
Caroline’s brown eyes widened in alarm. Did she not want him here?
And what of the major? Why would she discourage a potential courtship? Which brought another question to his mind—how could she know how bachelors approach a Season?
“You said that your husband died at the Battle of Dresden. I assume he was English.”
“Yes, he was.”
“Did you meet him here? Was his regiment first here then sent to the Continent?”
“No. I met him in London,” Caroline answered.
Sterling frowned. “When were you in London?”
“The year I turned eighteen. Mother insisted that I have a Season so we returned to England and my grandfather, Baron Hallaway, provided one.”
How was that possible? Not that she had a Season, but that he hadn’t known. “I have not missed a Season since I returned from university. One would think that we would have been introduced.”
“We were often at the same ball, Lord Wyndham,” Caroline answered.
He frowned even deeper. “Please do not tell me that we were introduced and I have failed to recall.” He couldn’t imagine he would have forgotten someone as attractive as Caroline.
“No, we were not. I did know who you were, however. Your name was on the lips of several debutantes who hoped that you would settle on a bride,” she explained in a whisper. “A friend pointed you out to me.”
Did Caroline just tease him? She seemed so reserved and unassuming previously. Was there more to his mother’s companion gardener than he realized? “I wish you would have asked for an introduction.”
“I would not have been so bold. Your father was my father’s employer and it would not have been proper.”
“There would have been nothing improper. You were the granddaughter of a baron and attending the same Season as I.”
“I felt that it may have made you uncomfortable in a social setting.”
“Then you misjudged me, Mrs. Sutcliff. I would have liked to have met you back then.”
What had she been like as a girl fresh from the school room? She was likely just as beautiful as she was now though he found that impossible or he would have noticed her. If she had been in England long enough, maybe her tan had faded and she blended in with all the other dark-haired debutantes. Except he still found it difficult to believe that Caroline could have gone unnoticed among even the loveliest gathering.
How had he not noticed her?
