How gloriously full his life had become since she entered it. Full of excitement. Full of promise. Full of her.
A footman arrived with the news that Marcus Hunt had come to call. His brows snapped together. Hunt searching him out on Christmas must mean he had news of his uncle. He motioned for the footman to send the Bow Street Runner in; casting a glance to the stairwell to make sure that Caroline was not nearby. Whatever Hunt wanted to say, he wanted to hear it first, lest, God forbid, the news sent Caroline running for the country hills with her sisters.
If he could avoid chasing after his woman in winter, he would. He’d much rather keep her here in his house, warm and toasty.
You truly are a rogue, Lonsdale.
Chapter 7
Caroline entered her chamber with a sigh of relief. She’d just come from making preparations for their Christmas dinner and was in dire need of catching her breath. Her father’s arrival, his removal, and Lonsdale’s incorrigible declaration had melted her mind.
And drat if the man wasn’t thawing heart with every word he spoke.
Her gaze jumped to the bed. Kate and Clair both reclined against the pillows, each with a book in hand.
“You’re finally back,” Kate said. “We’ve been waiting an age.”
Caroline joined them on the bed. “Surely not that long,” she teased, ruffling Clair’s hair.
“We are dying of curiosity, here,” Kate went on. “Are you going to marry Lonsdale?”
“Didn’t I say that all decisions are to be put off until after Christmas?”
Kate arched a brow. “You can fool the viscount, dear sister, but not us.”
Caroline sighed. If she was trying to fool anybody, it was herself. “I am not sure what I’m going to do.”
Kate nodded. “I thought as much.”
“You can do much worse than the viscount, sister,” Clair chirped.
“What do you know, brat?” She pinched Clair’s cheek.
“I know you like him,” she said proudly.
“Oh? And how do you know that?”
Kate cut her a look. “We are living in his home.” As if that was all there was to say.
“I will admit that the viscount is quite . . . unexpected. I’m a bit troubled by it all.”
“What exactly troubles you?” Kate asked. When Caroline remained silent, she went on, “Fine, do not tell us. But I can guess, and I wager it has to do with the baron.”
Caroline fell back onto the pillows. Kate knew her best. “All men want something.”
“All women want something too,” Kate pointed out. “We just hide it better than men.”
True.Caroline shot her sister a glance. Her little sister had matured a lot these past weeks. Her words oddly wise.
Pride swelled in her heart.
“What do men and women want?” Clair asked curiously.
“Nothing you need to worry your brattish head over,” Kate replied.
“I’m not a brat! You’re a brat!”
Caroline laughed softly. As long as her sisters were happy, she was content. “I seemed to recall that I vowed never to marry a titled gentleman.”
