“In a manner of speaking,” Sebastian grinned. “We spent hours up in that tree, hammering and sawing and generally making a ruckus. By midday, we had something that vaguely resembled a platform, though it was rather lopsided and had more gaps than a beggar's coat.”
He laughed at that, a rich, warm sound that filled the carriage. “We were so proud of ourselves, though. We clambered up onto our creation, declaring ourselves kings of the oak. That is, until Nathaniel put his foot down wrong and went straight through the floor!”
Caroline gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Was he hurt?”
“Oh, he was fine,” Sebastian assured her, waving a hand. “A bit bruised and battered, but no lasting harm done. Our pride, on the other hand, was severely wounded. Especially when the groundskeeper found us, drawn by the sound of our yelps and the sight of Nathaniel dangling from the tree by his ankle.”
He shook his head, his eyes distant with the memory. “I don't think I've ever seen the old man laugh so hard. He stood there, clutching his belly, tears streaming down his face as he took inthe sight of the two boys, covered in dirt and splinters, with the remains of our 'treehouse' scattered about like kindling.”
Caroline found herself drawn in despite herself, and Sebastian leaned forward slightly. “I do not know what it is like to have a sibling,” he explained clumsily, “Nathaniel is the closest I have to a brother. But I can try to understand how difficult it is…”
Caroline lowered her gaze and a sigh escaped her lips. “Beatrice and I were not quite that adventurous,” she admitted softly. “We held tea parties and walked along the gardens… we were always taught to be the perfect little ladies. I suppose the only mischievous thing we did was borrow books from a more… adventurous friend.”
Sebastian lifted a curious brow at that and Caroline felt her face flushing. “Books?”
She nodded and avoided his eyes, her cheeks suddenly hot. “You know… more… risqué novels,” she got out at last and once again his laughter boomed through the carriage. His voice was low, almost intimate, when he spoke again.
“And did these novels… teach you anything?”
Caroline swallowed dryly, a pool of moisture gathering between her thighs at the daring tone in his voice. What was happening?
“Some,” she said, looking up at him through her lashes. The air between them crackled with electricity.
Would he kiss her? She could not help but wonder—in any of the books she’d read, he would kiss and ravish her now and her heart raced wildly within her chest at the thought. She was not quite sure whether it was excitement or nerves.
Before anything could happen, however, the carriage came to a sudden halt and the loaded atmosphere between them all but vanished as he helped her out of the carriage.
Any sense of ease she may have felt disappeared swiftly the moment Caroline stepped into her new home. She was greeted by a line of servants, all looking to her expectantly. The housekeeper, a stern-faced woman stepped forward and bobbed a curtsy.
“This is Mrs. Hawkins,” Sebastian introduced the woman with a fond smile. “She’s been running households since I’ve been running amuck.”
“Welcome, My Lady,” the woman said, her voice crisp and efficient. “I trust you had a pleasant journey. If you'll follow me, I'll show you to your chambers and we can discuss the running of the household.”
Caroline felt a wave of panic wash over her at the woman's words. The running of the household? She had no idea how to run a household! She had never had to manage servants or plan menus or balance accounts. Her mother ought to have taught her at least something, but their relationship had become too strained. They’d only had one conversation about marriage and it was not something she could bear to think of right now. The very thought made her head spin.
Sebastian, perhaps sensing her distress, placed a comforting hand on the small of her back. “Mrs. Hawkins,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “I think perhaps we could postpone the household discussions until tomorrow. It's been a long day, and I'm sure Lady Caroline would like some time to rest and settle in.”
Mrs. Hawkins nodded briskly; her lips pursed. “Of course, my lord. As you wish. I shall show you to your chamber now, My Lady.”
Sebastian edged her forward lightly. “Go,” he encouraged. “I have quite a bit of work to complete in my study.”
Caroline shot Sebastian a grateful look as she was led upstairs to her new chambers. The room was large and elegantly furnished, with a large four-poster bed dominating the center. A fire crackled cheerfully in the grate, casting a warm glow over the room. But despite the coziness, it felt strange and unfamiliar.She sat on the edge of the bed, her shoulders slumped, and tried to quell the rising tide of anxiety within her. She was not quite sure how long she sat there—merely wondering how it all had come to this. The air outside was already darkening when there was a soft knock at the door that startled her from her thoughts.
“Come in,” she called, rising to her feet with a racing heart.
It was Sebastian who peered inside, a lopsided grin on his face. “I just wanted to check on you,” he said, his eyes soft. “When I told Mrs. Hawkins to show you to your bedchamber, I did not mean that you had to stay here all day… but I didn’t want to… impose. I know this is all a bit overwhelming.”
Caroline felt her throat tighten again at his kindness. “I'm alright,” she said, managing a small smile. “Just tired, I think.”
Sebastian nodded in understanding. “Rest then,” he said simply before leaving slowly. “I will send a servant for you later and we will have some tea.”
Caroline took his advice, lying down on the soft bed and closing her eyes. But sleep eluded her, her mind too full of worries and doubts. What if she couldn't handle the responsibilities of being a wife and mistress of a household? What if she disappointed Sebastian, or worse, made him regret marrying her? The thoughts chased each other around and around in her head until sleep came.
She woke, still in her wedding gown, when the sky was black outside—a knock at the door having disrupted her sleep. Caroline’s heart beat wildly inside her chest.
Would he expect her to consummate the marriage now? She sat up slowly, her hands trembling.
“My lady,” a strange, feminine voice rang through the closed door. “Lord Lincoln requests your presence in the drawing room for tea.”
