Ann looked at Amelia, who nodded and then turned back to Caroline. “My father struck me.”
Caroline blinked. That was not what she was expecting. “Why?”
Ann started to cry again and between choking sobs managed to get the story out. Caroline listened with growing trepidation. She’d known the earl wanted her dowry, but she hadn’t realized how desperate he really was. Or to what lengths he would go. By the time Ann finished, Caroline was furious. She looked at Amelia.
“You have got to tell the duke. As a duke, he can talk to Prinny and tell him to stop this ridiculous challenge. I am not marrying the earl.”
“It is not quite so simple as that,” Amelia replied. “For one, you might remember that the duke does not like getting involved in disputes. Especially ones that the prince has approved, more or less.”
Caroline remembered. George had not yet acquired the title when he’d paid her court, but all he could talk about was becoming a part of the prince regent’s inner circle. The earl was also part of that circle. “But Lord Tisdale is manipulating Lord Kendrick into…” Caroline paused as she saw the miserable expression on Ann’s red, blotchy face. There was no need to remind the girl of last night’s rejection. “I mean, the earl is manipulating this whole entire situation because he wants my dowry.”
Amelia lifted a shoulder again. “It is hardly the first time such a thing has occurred.”
Caroline couldn’t argue the point. The vast majority of aristocratic marriages were based on acquiring lands or money or titles. “But he struck his daughter. The prince does not like violence.”
“Prinny does not like witnessing violence,” Amelia said. “I strongly suspect Lord Tisdale would deny such a thing happening.” When Ann nodded and stifled another sob, Amelia sighed. “Someday, women will have equal rights.”
In spite of the situation, Caroline was surprised to hear Amelia say such a thing. The woman was a duchess, after all. The rank was just below a royal, so how much more could Amelia want? Still, being the wife of a duke wasn’t the same as being able to make decisions on one’s own. “I suspect that will happen when grass grows blue and the sky is green.”
Amelia smiled and even Ann gave a hiccupy giggle. “I doubt we can wait for such a miracle.”
“What should we do?” Caroline asked. “The situation is absolutely intolerable.”
“I agree,” Amelia answered. “I think for the remainder of this week, it would be wise if Lord Kendrick were left to the company of his own friends. He needs to avoid being put in any kind of compromising position—with either Ann or you.”
“With me?”
Amelia nodded. “I know this is all difficult, but if Lord Tisdale still thinks he has a chance with you, he will not take his wrath out on Ann. All you have to do is avoid being alone with Lord Kendrick or giving him any open encouragement.”
Caroline felt her stomach plummet. She had hoped to get Stephan alone to tell him she knew about the piracy. She had questions she needed answered to understand why he was involved with something like that. She looked again at Ann’s bruised face and sighed. Amelia had a point.
Caroline tilted her head. “So let me ask, Your Grace. Why are you doing this? We are not exactly friends.”
“I do not like seeing women hurt, either physically or emotionally.” A faint blush spread over Amelia’s porcelain skin. “Perhaps I am trying to right—at least partially—a wrong I did you.”
Caroline stared at her. Never would she have expected Amelia to admit to something like that. There must be warm blood flowing in the ice maiden’s veins after all. Caroline recalled what a pompous ass George could be, and she felt a slight twinge of sympathy. Perhaps life as a duchess was not all that grand. Caroline tucked that thought away for later and took a deep breath.
“All right. I will only speak with Lord Kendrick when we are surrounded by people and keep the conversation neutral.” She looked at Ann. “And we will act friendly toward each other. That might help convince your father to keep from hitting you again as well.”
Ann nodded, swiping at her nose with a damp handkerchief. “At least we will not have to worry about him for two or three days.”
Caroline raised a brow. “Why is that?”
“He left this morning on business in London. He said it was urgent, but he would return as quickly as he could.”
Caroline felt like a condemned prisoner given a reprieve when she heard the earl was going to be gone for the better part of three days. When he returned, there would be only three remaining days until the regatta. She could force herself to be pleasant, even if it wasn’t going to be easy. With any luck, it would rain on those intervening days, saving her from the one-and-a-half-hour sail with the earl. And then, on Sunday, she could go home. This whole mess would be over.
Except for Stephan.
…
Two nights later, Stephan balanced against the gentle bobbing of theLadyin her slip as he poured the last of theA de Fussignyinto pewter cups and handed one to Brice and another to Eric. “I am not sure I will ever understand women.”
Brice laughed. “It took you twenty-eight years to figure that out?”
Eric shook his head. “Don’t even try. Just enjoy.”
A month ago, Stephan would have agreed with that evaluation. He’d never been overly concerned with trying to understand how women’s minds worked. In his youth, there had always been willing girls from the village to romp with him. For that matter, serving maids in his father’s house as well. He’d never expected to inherit the title, which meant he’d escaped the clutches of the eager mamas of theton. But as he grew into adulthood, it didn’t seem right to take advantage of servants, so he’d turned to professional ladies-of-the-evening. They were quite clear in what they wanted. Coin in return for pleasure. It had always seemed a fair trade. Even the kisses of the Midnight Marauder had been given to shock and thrill without lasting consequences. The last two and a half weeks had made him question all that.