Secrets Of A Duchess. Kaitlin O'RileyЧитать онлайн книгу.
intentions to call upon her.
No flowers had come for Caroline.
“I do wish you had felt better last night,” Emma said with a note of sadness in her voice. At seventeen, Emma had a pretty face, an impish disposition, and laughing hazel eyes. She was proud of the hearts she had won at her very first ball. “Half of these flowers should rightfully be yours, Caroline. You never gave any of the gentlemen a chance really.”
“I just wasn’t feeling well,” Caroline said with forced cheerfulness as she refilled her cup with chocolate. “There will be other balls and I will dazzle all the men there.” She curled up on the comfortable, chintz-covered sofa.
Olivia shook her head with a frown, clearly disappointed by Caroline’s lack of admirers. She had expected her beautiful granddaughter to be a success. “I am afraid the damage may already be done, Caroline. I told you that your first appearance of the Season would be the most important. First impressions are the most lasting, my dear, and you were acting quite old-maidish last night. Gentlemen do not find that very attractive. You won’t get a husband acting that way.”
That was the whole point, Caroline thought to herself.
“Isn’t it astonishing that Madeline Maxwell refused the Duke of Woodborough’s proposal?” Emma changed the subject with ease. “They say the duke was so dejected that he left the ball early.”
Caroline’s head turned sharply in her sister’s direction. “The Duke of Woodborough isn’t going to marry Madeline Maxwell?” she asked, aware that her voice sounded unusually high and that her heart began to beat faster.
“No! The engagement is off! Lady Madeline refused his offer. It was all anyone was talking about,” Emma gushed, her face alive with the excitement of sharing such scandalous information. “How could you not have heard?”
“I’m not sure,” Caroline murmured, realizing she had been too lost in her own thoughts of standing on the balcony in the arms of the duke to notice anything else last night. If Alexander Woodward was not marrying Madeline and he was kissing Caroline, what did that mean? He certainly didn’t seem dejected! Recalling his dark eyes looking at her, teasing her in the moonlight, the duke seemed very self-assured. In fact, he was a little full of himself. No, he was not acting the least bit dejected.
“She’s a very foolish girl if you ask me,” Olivia added pragmatically. “But then she takes after her mother. I was never fond of Ellie Maxwell.”
Fraser, the Fairchild butler, entered the morning room carrying an extravagant arrangement of gardenias in an elegant crystal bowl. The sweet fragrance of the delicate, white blooms filled the air.
Immediately Emma ran to look at the card, giggling. “Oh, they’re simply lovely! I wonder who sent them?”
“You must have made quite an impression on someone, my dear. They are most exquisite. And quite costly,” Olivia observed as Fraser placed the arrangement on the mahogany end table next to a smaller bouquet of pink rose buds.
As Emma took the small white envelope in her hands, a curious expression came over her face. “These flowers are not for me…” She turned to smile at her sister. “They’re for Caroline.”
Caroline’s face registered her astonishment as she glanced quickly between her sister and grandmother. She certainly had not encouraged anyone last night! “Who could have sent me flowers?” she wondered aloud.
“They were delivered by a servant of the Duke of Woodborough,” Fraser stated dramatically, knowing it was not every day that a duke sent flowers. Then he discretely left the room.
“The Duke of Woodborough? Caroline!” Olivia’s voice was filled with wonder as she abruptly rose from her chair. “When did you meet the Duke of Woodborough?”
“I…I didn’t…That is…I didn’t learn who he was until afterward,” Caroline stammered, a warm flush rising on her cheeks. “We only spoke for a moment.”
“Well, give her the card, Emma,” Olivia urged eagerly.
Emma rushed to Caroline, pressing the envelope into her hand. “Hurry and read it! I’m simply dying to know what it says!”
With shaking hands, Caroline opened the crisp white envelope sealed with the duke’s family crest in dark blue wax. Why was Alexander Woodward sending her flowers? What could he possibly have to say to her? Her heart racing, she silently read the brief message written in bold masculine strokes.
My Dear Miss Armstrong,
I felt compelled to thank you for such delightful conversation last evening. The gardenias remind me of you. I hope you will permit me the honor of calling upon you tomorrow afternoon.
Alexander Woodward
Caroline read the note a second time in disbelief. The words seemed to blur before her eyes. Why on earth would he call on me? Her heart filled with a mounting sense of unease. The duke knew that she was discouraging suitors and yet he still sent her flowers. Was he doing this to deliberately put her in an awkward situation? What was he up to?
Then there was that kiss. That kiss! Her cheeks reddened yet again at the memory of his lips on hers. His hands. His eyes.
He was not marrying Madeline Maxwell.
“Well…What does it say?” Emma asked impatiently, standing on tiptoe, trying to peer over Caroline’s shoulder to read the note.
“Read it, Caroline,” Olivia demanded, eager to know what the duke had to say to her granddaughter.
Hesitantly, Caroline read the note aloud. When she was finished, she looked up at her speechless grandmother and sister.
Olivia sat down helplessly in her chair. After a moment, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “A conversation? He sent you these expensive flowers to thank you for a conversation? What on earth did you say to the man, Caroline?”
“We spoke but for a moment,” she answered vaguely.
Emma squealed in delight. “He’s going to call on you! Here we thought you were ill and not enjoying yourself last night. Then you go and catch the Duke of Woodborough, without telling anyone. And pretending as if you didn’t know! When did you speak with him?”
“Yes, when?” Olivia asked, her sharp eyes watching Caroline.
“Truly…It was nothing,” Caroline stated slowly, for Emma’s enthusiasm was making her nervous. “After dancing, I had a headache so I went outside for some air. He was already on the balcony. We spoke for a moment or two. I wasn’t even aware he was the Duke of Woodborough at the time.”
“‘The gardenias remind me of you,’” Emma mused dreamily, holding the note in her hands. “That sounds very romantic. Whatever did you talk about?”
“Nothing special.” Caroline felt uncomfortable discussing her encounter with the duke. What could she say? That she confessed her secret plan to him? She certainly could not tell them that she had kissed him passionately. And enjoyed it.
“Well, this is a pleasant surprise. I can’t believe you didn’t mention any of this last night, Caroline,” Olivia said, regaining some composure while absently smoothing her silver hair. “Apparently the duke is quite taken with you.”
Emma giggled, her hazel eyes dancing. “Mary Ellen Talbot pointed him out to me once last night, and he’s devastatingly handsome. All the girls were mooning over him. I can’t wait to tell Aunt Jane and Uncle Kit! The Duke of Woodborough and Caroline! It’s too good to be true!”
“That’s exactly it, Emma,” Caroline exclaimed. “It is too good to be true. Why would a duke possibly be interested in me? I’m not the duchess type. He’d be wasting his time.” She could not become involved with the duke, no matter what his intentions. It was impossible for her to become involved with anyone! Yet she had no idea how to explain that to her grandmother. She took a big gulp of air and blurted out, “I refuse to see him when