Page 3 of The Secret Love of a Gentleman
The Pembroke family were a harmonious clan, and Drew was one of them these days.
Mary’s brother, Robbie, walked up to bat.
A moment later, the crack of hard leather hitting willow broke across the conversation in the open space. Robbie ran.
When the rest of the family left, he was to stay with Drew and Mary for a few weeks.
He raced from one wicket to the other, tapping the bat on the ground and running back. He was taller than most men, lithe and athletic.
A tingle of discomfort rippled through her nerves. Drew constantly complained abouther nerves. The doctor had told her, ‘It is just that you have an overly sensitive nervous system…’ He had prescribed laudanum, but she had never used it. She did not want to feel tired and ill as well as mad.
‘Uncle Bobbie!’
Caro’s gaze turned to Drew’s son. George ran to join the game. Mary’s father caught him and hoisted a squealing George onto his shoulders.
Her nephew and niece were Caro’s sole happiness. She spent as many hours with them as she could, they were the reason she was here.
Applause echoed over the lawn as Robbie ran his fourth length and beat the ball back to the wicket. He turned and braced himself to hit again, his dark-brown hair falling forward over his brow.
His colouring was different from most of the Pembroke family’s; the old Duke’s pitch-black hair and pale blue eyes had travelled through his family, but Robbie had his father’s colouring not his mother’s.
Drew told her yesterday that Robbie was concerned about staying because he thought she would feel uncomfortable. Drew had waited for her to say she did not mind. She had not answered. Shewouldfeel uncomfortable but she would not discuss her silent madness with her brother.
Guilt and shame ate at her not only because of Albert’s, her former husband’s, behaviour, but also because she still loved him. Feelings could not simply be snuffed out like the flame of a candle. She could neither excuse nor forgive herself, so she did not expect Albert to.
Perhaps Drew ought to have her admitted to an asylum andbe done with it. She felt as though she were trapped in a glass cell anyway.
A raucous cheer went up, Robbie’s wicket had been smashed.
‘Shall we break?’ John shouted. ‘I am in need of refreshment.’
Several male voices agreed.
Her heartbeat pounded violently in her chest, as the men walked towards the terrace.
Drew spotted her. Of course, he knew where to look. He knew she would be inside the house. He lifted his hand and waved as he peeled away from the others who walked towards their wives and mothers.
She and Drew were not particularly alike, apart from their eyes. They had the same mother, and different fathers. He had carried insecurities too, before he married Mary. These days, he was as confident in his own skin as any man could be. He was at peace with himself, and deeply in love with Mary. Mary completed him. She was the other half that had made him whole. Caro was the shackle about his ankle.
‘Caro,’ he said as he walked across the terrace to the open French door. ‘Come and sit with Mary and I.’
‘I am happy here.’ Her lips trembled when she tried to smile.
‘Are you really?’ He smiled wryly, one eyebrow lifting to mark his disbelief. ‘Come on.’ He held out his hand. ‘You can keep George under control.’
Drew was generous and kind, but also, unfortunately, stubborn.
He grasped her hand. ‘Kate will be insulted if you do not at least come outside for a little while.’
‘The Duchess will not notice,’ Caro said, but she gave in to his urging rather than cause a scene, letting him lead her across the terrace. Touch was another thing that assaulted her ‘overly sensitivenerves’.She did not mind Drew and the children touching her… but others… If anyone offered an arm to lead her into dinner, or held out a hand to ask her to dance, even if they accidentally touched her, her senses screamed in revulsion. Yet she craved touch. She felt starved of it at times. It was just another anomaly of her madness.
Drew’s broadest smile flashed. ‘She notices,’ he said in a jovial tone. ‘They all do. But admittedly no one thinks badly of you for hiding.’
The family groups were gathering around refreshment tables that the servants had set up on the lawn. The younger children ran between people’s legs, playing a game of chase.
‘Enough, children, you will knock one of us over!’
Caro flinched at the deep dictatorial tone of Lord Wiltshire’s voice. It rattled through her nerves.
