Page 41 of The Secret Love of a Gentleman
She retook her seat, choosing to be strong, to not run and hide. ‘May I have another cup of chocolate, please?’ she asked the maid.
Valour was the better course. She must make more of her own life, not envy his.
She refused to acknowledge the sense of ripping inside her and smiled.
‘What was it?’ Rob asked.
‘Nothing,’ she answered.
He looked at Drew. But Drew just shook his head, respecting her choice, and then he turned the page and commented on a horse-racing article.
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Rob watched Caro drink her cup of chocolate. She did not participate in any further conversation, then excused herself and left the table. Rob’s gaze followed her as she walked from the room.
She had neither said nor done anything obvious that implied the article in the paper had upset her, yet Rob knew it had. He knew her too well.
He looked at Drew, his thumping headache forgotten, and asked to see the paper without speaking.
Drew folded the newspaper and passed it over. ‘Announcements.’
Rob opened it up and looked through the pages. Mary rose and walked about the table to look over his shoulder.
He found the page and scanned it. Kilbride’s name jumped out. ‘An heir,’ Rob said aloud.
Mary, who had leaned forward, straightened and looked at Drew. ‘Should I find her and sit with her this morning?’
Drew shook his head. ‘Let her do as she wishes. She will come to terms with it.’
But Rob thought it would be best if she was not alone. ‘I will ask her if she wishes to go for a walk with George, or ride.’
‘Leave her be, Rob, there is no need,’ Drew said.
‘It is kind of you to offer, Rob, but Andrew knows her best,’ Mary said.
That was not true. Caro told Rob things Drew did not know. No matter that Rob swore, while drinking himself into a stupor last night, that he would stay out of her way in future, he could not let her endure this alone.
‘Then, I will go back upstairs and lie down,’ he lied. He knew she would be in the gardens.
Mary and Drew gave him sympathetic looks.
When he left the dining room, he went in search of her, wondering how much Drew’s influence had hindered Caro, not helped her. By ignoring her anxiety, Drew forced her to simply endure it.
She was sitting on the lip of the pond, one palm on the stone rim, while the other hand played with the water, her fingertips making patterns with ripples.
‘Caro?’
She stood up quickly, the water dripping from her fingertips.
There were tear stains on her cheeks. She wiped them away with her wrist.
‘I am sorry about last night. It was wrong of me—’ he began, but she interrupted.
‘You have nothing to apologise for. It was wrong of me to come down in my nightdress, and you asked me to leave.’
If she deserved nothing else, she deserved honesty from him. ‘I am not wholly sorry. I was sitting there longing to do those things with you. I have thought you beautiful for weeks, then last night you shone at that dance, and my resolve broke. It does not normally. That is what I apologise for.’
‘And I cannot accept your apology because it was my fault. I presented myself in a state that must… Well… Albert told me about the uncontrollable nature of men’s urges.’
