The Rake's Rebellious Lady. Anne HerriesЧитать онлайн книгу.
be forgiven because of her youth? Caroline was not sure if he was mocking her or not, because she was sure that he was laughing inside. She decided that the best thing to do was to retain a dignified silence, which she did for the remainder of their dance, but when he asked if he might escort her into supper she was obliged to smile and thank him.
‘And thus might Saint Joan have looked as she was taken to the stake,’ he said in a low voice, and as she looked up she saw that his eyes were bright with laughter. ‘Am I still to be permitted to take you driving, Miss Holbrook?’
‘Do you still wish to?’
‘Yes, certainly,’ he said. ‘I believe…’
What he had been about to say was missed, for they were joined by Julia and a party of young bucks, and after seeing that Caroline had all she needed, Sir Frederick soon left them to the enjoyment of their supper. When she looked for him later, she realised that he must have gone.
She could not help feeling piqued, because she did not know what she had done to give him such a poor opinion of her. It was true that if she married well she might be able to make Mama’s life better, and she would like to do something for her brothers too—but she would not wish to marry exclusively for money. Indeed, she could not imagine herself married to most of the gentlemen she knew…
Chapter Three
Caroline was thoughtful as she went to bed that evening. She was aware that the evening had been very pleasant, and she was enjoying her stay in town—but for some reason the sparkle had gone out of things after Sir Frederick had left the ball. Now why should that be? She had continued to dance all evening and many of her partners were very personable young men—but somehow none of them made her feel quite as alive as Sir Frederick.
Why had he left early? She wondered if she had offended him by being a little sharp and was sorry that she had been hasty. He’d seemed to imagine that she was interested in making an advantageous marriage and that had made her angry. What had she done to give such an ill opinion of her? Caroline pondered the question, but could not think that she had done anything. It was hardly her fault if she had attracted the attention of several important and wealthy men. She ought not to have said anything about being a duchess, though; the memory made her feel ill at ease with herself.
Sir Frederick had said that he still wished to take her driving, but she was afraid that she might have given him a dislike for her company. She was at heart a very well-behaved young lady despite being sometimes reckless. She decided that the next time they met she would be more careful of her behaviour.
The following day was quite taken up by shopping and appointments with the seamstress, and in the evening they attended a musical event. There was no sign of either Sir Frederick or Mr Bellingham, and Caroline wore a rather fixed smile all evening, and was rebuked by her aunt for being above her company.
‘You may be bored, Caroline, but if you show it so plainly you will soon find that you are no longer invited anywhere.’
‘I am sorry, Aunt,’ Caroline said. ‘I did not mean to offend anyone, but I am feeling…’ She sighed, because she did not know why her spirits were at a low ebb. She ought not to feel as if the evening were pointless just because her particular friends were not present. ‘Perhaps I am a little tired.’
It was merely an excuse, she knew, but she was glad when it was time to leave and she could be alone in her own room. She was a little on edge, and she wondered whether or not Sir Frederick would keep his appointment to take her driving the next morning.
She need not have worried, for he arrived at the appointed time. He looked extremely handsome in his blue coat and pale breeches, his boots having the kind of shine that only a valet of the first order could bestow on them.
‘Miss Holbrook,’ he said as the footman announced him, showing him into the downstairs parlour where Caroline was pretending to read a news sheet that had just been delivered. ‘You look charming this morning, if I may be allowed to say so?’
‘Thank you, sir. You are very kind.’
‘You are ready?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Caroline smiled, allowing none of her uncertainty to show as she picked up her gloves and went out into the hall. ‘You will not want to keep your horses waiting.’
She was assisted with her pelisse, and, tying the ribbons of her bonnet, followed him outside. The young lad Freddie employed as his tiger was walking the horses and brought the phaeton back to them.
‘Thank you, Jim. Up with you now, lad.’ Freddie turned to Caroline as the lad obeyed. She had noticed that he was driving a pair of perfectly matched greys.
‘Mr Bellingham told me that you had some fine chestnuts, sir. Have you changed your horses recently?’
‘No, but I had a chance to purchase these and thought they would be a splendid addition to my stables. One can never have too many horses.’
‘Oh, I agree. I should imagine anyone would be pleased to own these.’
‘Not all young ladies take such an interest in horses. You are a rarity, Miss Holbrook.’
‘Am I?’ Caroline looked at him as he handed her up. ‘I have loved horses since I was first able to walk down to the stables with my father…dogs, too. Proper dogs, I mean, not the fancy lapdogs that many ladies dote on. At home I like to walk with them, sometimes for hours at a time.’ She laughed. ‘Indeed, I think I prefer being out with my dogs to talking to some of the people I have met in town.’ She drew a sharp breath as she realised what she had said. ‘Oh, dear, that was not well said. Now you will think me a country bore and I shall be ruined.’
‘Not at all,’ Freddie said. ‘You have too much intelligence and vivacity to be a bore.’
‘I shall take that as a compliment.’
‘Well, you may do so, for it was meant as one.’
‘Thank you. Do you have a country estate, sir?’
‘I have three at the moment,’ Freddie said. ‘A hunting lodge in Oxfordshire, my family seat in Derbyshire and a shooting box in Scotland, which I seldom use. It was set up by my maternal grandfather and came to me on his death, but I prefer to spend much of my time in London.’
‘Oh…yes, I see,’ Caroline said. ‘I suppose the country does not appeal to everyone, though I believe I prefer it.’
‘The countryside can be pleasant enough if one has the right companions. But I do not care to spend too much time alone there when my friends are in town.’
‘Yes, of course. Do you have no family, sir?’
‘I had an elder sister, but she died of a putrid fever when a child.’ His eyes darkened as if the memory still held echoes of pain for him. ‘My parents had both died some years earlier, so that meant I was left to the mercy of the servants—and occasional visits from my uncle and grandfather. Grandfather died when I fifteen, but my uncle still lives. As does my godmother, Lady Stroud.’
‘I had no idea.’ Caroline glanced at him, for she guessed that he must have felt lonely as a child, but his face was a mask that showed no sign of emotion.
‘Why should you? It was a long time ago. However, you must not be sorry. If I have few relatives, I have some good friends and many pleasant acquaintances.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Caroline agreed. ‘I believe you are very close with Mr Bellingham, are you not?’
‘We have been friends for some time.’
They were entering the park gates now and Caroline saw several ladies and gentlemen she knew. Some were in carriages, but most were on foot.
‘Would you count that gentleman as a friend?’ Caroline asked after they had been driving for some minutes. She had noticed Mr Farringdon. He was on foot and seemed to be staring fixedly in their direction.
‘An acquaintance. I believe