But then, Stephan had nearly three weeks to persuade her otherwise.
“I will do it,” he said.
…
“Why do you keep glancing toward the door?” Caroline’s father asked her that evening as the guests were milling around the long gallery in preparation for going to the banquet room. “I am sure Lord Tisdale will be here in time to escort you in to dinner.”
It wasn’t Lord Tisdale she was waiting for. She prayed that Brice had been persuasive in getting the Marquis of Kendrick to agree to her plan. When Brice had left earlier he’d seemed quite confident, but she had received no message that all was well. Nor did she have any idea of how the marquis would approach her. She hoped he’d arrive before the earl did. She twirled the champagne glass she held slowly to give her hands something to do besides shake. “I was checking to see if there were any new arrivals this afternoon.”
“I have not noticed anyone,” her father replied, “but I believe the prince is due to arrive tomorrow.”
“That means dinner tonight will be informal.” The lack of place cards this evening would work in her favor regarding seating arrangements. If only she could delay entering the banquet room until Brice and Lord Kendrick arrived. Caroline refrained from glancing toward the doorway again. Her father was already getting a suspicious look on his face. “I do prefer sitting toward an end of the table rather than squeezed in the middle.”
“It does get rather stuffy,” Sir Reginald replied, “although I am sure the earl will have a seat above the salt where there is a bit more room.”
Caroline almost groaned at the reminder. Stephan would no doubt be accorded a seat near the head of the table given his status as Marquis of Kendrick, but since no dukes had arrived—at least, not yet—that meant there would also be room for the next ranking title of earl. She didn’t relish having Lord Tisdale being privy to dinner conversation with Stephan, which might be quite stilted, given that he was only putting on an act. That is,ifhe had agreed to do it. He had not shown up yet.
“Do you not agree?”
Caroline jumped, nearly dropping her glass. “I am sorry. Did you say something?”
Her father frowned. “I said it is quite an honor to be seated near the prince.”
“Oh, yes. I suppose it is.”
His frown deepened. “You are as edgy as a cat in a roomful of rocking chairs. Is something wrong?”
Besides having her life ruined if Lord Kendrick did not show up? Caroline pushed away the thought. Brice would persuade him. He had to. The charade would only last two weeks.
“Daughter?”
She realized she hadn’t paid attention again. Her father was obviously expecting an answer. Hopefully, it was to the last question she heard him ask. “Nothing is wrong, Father. I…” Caroline broke off as Brice and Stephan entered the room. Relief flooded her and almost made her giddy. He had come!
As the men stepped into the long gallery from the entrance hall, the soft glow of candles from the massive chandelier blended with the rays of the setting sun filtering through the blue glass skylight and cast an eerie, purplish haze around Stephen, silhouetting him. For a moment, he appeared to be a dark, shadowy figure that oddly reminded her of the Midnight Marauder. The illusion shattered as he moved forward, and Caroline remembered the tricks both the mirrors and lighting played in this particular gallery.
She chided herself for letting her imagination run off again. Stephan had no facial hair, and he certainly wasn’t masked. He didn’t have a cape flung back and wasn’t even wearing totally black. He was dressed this evening in a dark gray frockcoat with silver-threaded waistcoat that only made his hair look black as pitch. The violet color of the more casually presented Napoleon cravat he wore gave him a rather leisurely, languishing look and set off his dark gaze as well. A gaze that had a decidedly devilish look to it as he turned it full on her.
Caroline felt her breath hitch as he came closer. She hadn’t quite realized—before—how virile he was. Even though he was tall and muscular, he moved with the lithe grace of a man used to standing on a pitching boat in high seas, and every inch of him exuded the authority of a ship’s captain. His strong features made him ruggedly handsome. Black brows lashed sharply upward over piercing dark eyes. High cheekbones. A straight nose that was neither short nor long. A firm jaw and wide, full mouth…a mouth with white teeth flashing in a smile as he approached.
“Miss Nash, you are just the person I am looking for.”
Stephan made a flourishing bow, picked up her hand, turned it over, and kissed her palm. Arealkiss and not an airy brush. Actually, a ratherscandalouskiss since his lips had made firm contact and lingered overlong. Caroline knew she should snatch her hand away, but the warm, tingling sensation made her want to leave it right there, scandalous or not. Stephan seemed to read her thoughts because his eyes darkened nearly to ebony and he let his thumb graze the side of her hand slightly before he dropped it. Caroline recalled now that both Alex and Brice had said he was more a rake than the two of them combined. She hoped she hadn’t caught the proverbial tiger by its tail.
Remembering that he was playing a part, Caroline smiled. “It is a pleasure to see you again, my lord.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Nash. I look forward to renewing our acquaintance.”
Before Caroline could answer, another male voice did. An angry male voice.
“Find one to renew elsewhere,” Tisdale growled. “This woman is mine.”
Caroline looked down so no one would see how frustrated she was. The blasted earl had the worst timing. Where had he come from anyway?
Stephan had straightened and gave the earl a cool look. “England has abolished slavery on its shores.”
“Nobody said anything about slavery.”
“Stating that a person is ‘mine’ implies ownership, does it not?” Stephan asked.