Page 43 of A Rake's Revenge


Font Size:

“Sorry,” Brice said again. “Tisdale was gloating practically all the way through dinner, and Prinny seemed delighted by the whole thing.”

“Of course he would be,” Stephan replied. “The prince likes the idea of rivalry and competition at his parties.”

“Well, you did yourself a favor by not being there.”

Confound it. He missed one bloody dinner and something like this had to happen. Stephan finished his brandy and reached for the bottle. He’d taken the coward’s way out this afternoon. He knew when he’d made the excuse not to attend dinner that he shouldn’t have done it. But he simply wasn’t ready to face Caroline, not after last night. His thinking was still too muddled. Even spending nearly the whole day out on theLadyhadn’t helped.

Caroline cared for the Midnight Marauder. Stephan understood that since he’d shared the same passionate kiss and embrace with her. But he couldn’t tell herhewas the marauder. And while he thought she felt attracted to him—as himself—how could he compete with her fantasy? A fantasy that was actually him? It was all too confusing, and he didn’t like confusion.

Stephan poured his drink. “So what time is this calamity supposed to take place tomorrow?”

Brice shrugged. “I would imagine after lunch.”

“Which meansSea Masterwill probably be in port.”

“Probably.” Brice studied him. “Does that meanLadywill be in port, too?”

“No. You will take theLadyout.” Stephan tossed back the brandy. “I will not be on her is all.”


“I am sure Lord Tisdale would understand if you wish to postpone your carriage ride,” Caroline’s father said to her the next afternoon as they stood in the entrance hall waiting for Tisdale to bring the carriage around. “It looks like rain.”

“I would not dream of it,” Caroline answered. Dark and dreary suited her mood. Besides, if it rained, she could get this ordeal over with more quickly.

“I expect you to be on your best behavior this afternoon,” Caroline’s father warned.

“Of course,” Caroline answered. “The lamb is always meek when it’s led to slaughter.”

Sir Reginald frowned. “You are not being led to slaughter.”

“It certainly feels like it.”

“It might be wise of you to curb your sarcasm. Men do not like sassy mouths.”

Caroline gave him an innocent look. If only he knew how many sarcastic remarks she’d been compiling in the last twenty-four hours. “Perhaps it would be wise for Lord Tisdale to find out so he will realize we do not suit.”

“You have never given the man a chance.”

“That is because I do not like him.”

Her father stared at her. “You do notlikehim? The prince regent does, and he approved this betrothal.”

“Then let Prinny marry the earl.” Caroline flung open the door before the footman, who’d been seriously contemplating the shine of his boot, could react. She stomped outside, leaving her father behind.

“Never mind,” she said to a second footman waiting to assist her up on the seat of the phaeton. “I am capable of climbing onto a bench.” To prove her point she heaved herself up and plopped down hard, causing the buggy to shake.

“I should like to drive,” she told a startled Tisdale.

“Are you mad?”

“It is a possibility.” Caroline folded her arms across the jacket of the riding habit she’d decided to wear instead of a gown. It covered more of her more thoroughly. “I do not suppose my father mentioned that?”

Tisdale drew his lips into a tight line as he flicked the reins on the horse’s back. “He did not.”

“Well,” Caroline said, smiling brightly. “He probably has not shared any of the other family secrets, either.”

He slid his eyes sideways. “I have not heard of any family skeletons in the closet.”