She had no idea of how truly deep the waters were that he’d plunged into.
Where do I go from here?
Chapter Fourteen
Caroline went down to breakfast deliberately late the next morning so she could avoid seeing Stephan. The man thoroughly confused her, and she didn’t like feeling confused.
She had welcomed his suggestion to stroll the gardens after dinner. Originally, she’d thought they were insimpatico, just wanting to escape the boring confines of the drawing room and saloon, as well as to get away from the unwelcome attention of Tisdale for her and the earl’s clinging daughter for Stephan. Not that there wasn’t a bevy of debutantes also wanting his attention. The idea that their mamas now looked on him favorably after saving the two boys caused Caroline’s stomach to knot.
She shouldn’t be jealous. He was only acting the part of her suitor as he had agreed to. Sheshouldbe happy that he was now accepted by thetonand could pursue a quest for someone he really wanted. That was what sheshouldfeel. But she didn’t.
She couldn’t deny that she was physically attracted to Stephan. In some unfathomable way, he reminded her of the Midnight Marauder, although, of course, he was English and sported no Vandyke. But they were of the same height, with equally broad shoulders and inky hair. And, silly as it seemed even in her own mind, she liked to think the marauder had a sense of honor, that he didn’t debauch young girls or actually harm anyone. It was the same kind of sense of character she felt that Stephan had. And that was confusing, too. It was not at all like her to assign gallant traits to men like they were Arthurian knights. She’d been relieved of any notions of courtly romance two years ago.
And yet, Stephan had said he didn’t think George would have made her happy. It seemed a rather perceptive thing for a man to say. And when Stephan had turned off the well-worn path to pursue a smaller trail into the dark depths of the gardens, she had hoped for…well, she wasn’t sure exactly what she’d hoped for, and that confused her, too. She certainly didn’t want them to be found in a compromising position that would force Stephan to marry her, but when she thought he might kiss her—he looked like he wanted to—he hadn’t even been listening to what she said—all the feminine parts of her had begun to go soft. She’d found herself anticipating the feel of his arms around her, her breasts pressed up against that hard chest, his mouth covering her own, his tongue tangling with hers. But then his expression abruptly changed, and he’d taken her arm to escort back to the lighted path. The switch was yet another reason to avoid him until she could get her feelings straightened out.
She did not like being confused.
Caroline stopped short when she entered the breakfast room. She had hoped it would be empty, since she didn’t relish listening to gossip or answering questions right now. Part of her wish was granted. There were no ladies present. Unfortunately, both her father and Tisdale were seated at the table. Neither of them looked pleased, which did not bode well for her.
“I thought you would be onSea Master, my lord,” she said to Tisdale after the footman had brought her tea and toast. She waved off any other food. The quicker she could quit the table the better.
“No need. Captain Flannery is putting the boat through its paces,” Tisdale answered.
Caroline barely managed to keep from shaking her head.Theboat.Itspaces. Notherpaces. She didn’t know a single seaman who didn’t think of his ship as a woman. Stephan had mentioned several times that a sailor’s life could depend on his ship. And a captain, in particular, needed to know every plank and line and bolt from the keel to the mast. But she wasn’t about to argue.
“I am sure your man is capable.”
“We are not here to talk about Lord Tisdale’s boat,” her father said.
She forced a smile. “It seems an appropriate topic, does it not?”
“So does your whereabouts last night,” her father answered.
Caroline sighed inwardly. So much for being able to leave the room. “I went for a stroll with Lord Kendrick.”
Tisdale’s face darkened. “You were gone nearly thirty minutes.”
She schooled her face into impassivity, forcing her temper down. “I was not aware I had to account for my time.”
Her father grimaced. “Do not be sarcastic, Caroline.”
She looked up. “I am stating a fact.”
“You did not have a chaperone,” he replied.
Her temper flared. “I am four-and-twenty, not a child.”
“You still need to think of appearances, especially after what just happened with the duke and his wife.”
“I hardly think the Midnight Marauder is lurking about the Pavilion gardens.”
Her father gave her a meaningful glance. “That is not what I meant.”
Of course it wasn’t. She should have realized that. With George present, if she didn’t maintain decorum, the rumors might start again that she’d lost her virtue with him. Disappearing into the garden’s shadows could easily ignite those cinders, since gossip’s ashes never really went cold.
Caroline sighed again. If only such gossip would cause Tisdale to drop his suit, she would gladly shoulder the insults and innuendoes. But she doubted he’d be swayed. Instead, he’d probably demand more of a dowry for accepting a near-spinster with a disreputable aura hanging over her.
“Very well. I will stay out of the gardens.”