“I see. I thought perhaps…?”
Carrie paused, a shawl in her hands, while a flush rose up her neck. “What, Aunt Penelope?”
“When I heard you two in the corridor last night, I had expected... Well, never mind, an old woman’s imaginings. The moon was so bright, it shone through the curtains, and I couldn’t sleep. They don’t fit the windows properly. I must speak to the housekeeper.”
“Nicholas will be ready to take you home as soon as he returns from his ride with Jeremy. I shall see to it now.” Carrie was glad to draw her aunt’s attention away from any embarrassing questions. But as she left the room, she wondered what Aunt Penelope had expected.
An hour later, Nicholas left with her aunt in his curricle.
The day dragged by slowly. Carrie spent an hour in the music room, while Bella played the harp. She played a few pieces herself, but it soon failed to entertain her.
At dusk, Nicholas still had not arrived home. It was dark when Carrie heard the horses and ran to the window. His curricle, lit by lamps, passed by on its way to the stables. She checked her appearance in the mirror. She’d chosen one of her most flattering gowns, a pale lilac trimmed with bands of white satin, to give her confidence. After she tied a lilac ribbon in her hair, she hurried out.
She met Nicholas on the stairs.
“I’m sorry to be late,” he said. “I told Armand to put dinner back an hour, just in case.” He met her gaze. “How are you, Carrie?”
“Fine. But you must be tired.” Despite her plan to appear calm and composed, she found herself gripping hold of the banister. Was he going to refer to that, here?
“I hope you managed a few hours of sleep?”
“I did, thank you. My fault, I fear. I am sorry, Nicholas. Wine does not agree with me, I’ve discovered.”
“Don’t be.” He smiled. “I’m not.”
She toyed with a lock of hair, and it fell loose against her cheek. “Oh, dear. I must look a fright.”
He reached across and tucked the lock behind her ear. “Impossible.”
She summoned her last shred of dignity. “Did Lady Penelope enjoy the trip home in the curricle?”
“She appeared to. I had intended to take the coach, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Her husband had been an excellent whip hand. And it quite took her back.”
Carrie grinned. “She would approve of your skills.”
“I must have come up to muster, as I suffered none of her harsh criticisms. Even when I reversed the horses because a dray had lost its load of hay, and it became necessary to take a back road for several miles.” He grinned. “Rough going it was, too.”
“You must expect my aunt to return for another visit then.”
“I don’t think so without you here to assist with the lady’s entertainment.”
He didn’t mean it, of course. “Don’t let me keep you.” Carrie placed a foot on a lower stair tread.
His hand covered hers on the banister rail, holding her back. “I’d like to see you in the library before dinner.”
She tried to discern what it was about but failed. “Very well.”
“Allow me to wash and change. I’ll be there shortly. I expect those two youngsters are ready for their dinner.”
“The last time I saw them, they were at the billiard table while Jeremy practiced.”
Nicholas groaned. “I hope he doesn’t dig a hole in the baize.”
“I warned him you would be very cross should he do so.”
“I doubt that put the fear of God into him.” Nicholas shook his head and left her, continuing up the stairs.
Carrie began down, the banister rail cold beneath her fingers. What did Nicholas wish to talk about? He obviously intended to smooth things over between them. To have them go on as before and remain friends. Reaching the last step, she paused, chewing her bottom lip. It appeared this was how it would be in the future. An amicable friendship until she married. And then she would hardly see him except to discuss Bella and Jeremy. Until Bella came to live with her, and Jeremy left school, and then…nothing.
