Page 87 of The Secret Love of a Gentleman
‘I think so. He sees me as his responsibility because he has cared for me since we were young. However, I am no more his responsibility than I am yours, I will choose who I dance with.’
Rob smiled as the notes of a waltz began and bowed. ‘Then will you choose to dance this waltz with me?’
Her answer was her smile as she lifted her hand.
He spun her about the floor, in a firm, secure hold, his gaze holding hers as they turned.
‘I love you,’ he whispered in the last moments of the dance. She did not have a chance to reply as the music stopped.
When Caro and Rob returned to the family group, Lord Brooke stood beside Drew and Mary.
‘Here is Peter, Caro, fetched as ordered to lead you into a dance.’ There was an odd look in Drew’s eyes, an expression that questioned.
Peter smiled as he held out his hand. ‘May I have this dance, Caroline? And for the record, I would have asked without being ordered.’
A smile caught at her lips, and she made a face at him, telling him off for his cheek. But that was Peter’s personality. ‘Thank you, Peter. I am grateful.’ She accepted his hand.
When he led her to a set, she asked, ‘Is your wife here?’
‘Yes. She is with Harry and his wife. Drew stole me away from her, but Harry is minding her until I return with you. Harry will want his dance then.’
He joked during the crossovers throughout the dance, making her laugh, and the laughter left her desperate for the retiring room.
When the dance came to an end, she excused herself. ‘Would you let Harry know I will be back soon?’
He nodded and bowed, before she departed.
At the edge of the room, she had to weave her way through the crush to reach the hall, then she hurried up to the first floor. Kate’s maid was there to help. Caro rushed, eager to return to the dancing. Rob was right, she felt much more comfortable when she concentrated on dancing.
She hurried downstairs more confident than before and cut a path through those who stood about the edge of the room.
A hand clasped her arm and stopped her.
It had been years, but she knew the feel of his hand. ‘Albert.’
‘Caro. Will you allow me this dance?’ he asked as though his fingers were not pressing so hard they would leave bruises, preventing any possibility of her breaking free.
People about them turned and watched as he pulled her from the crowd to join a waltz.
A dozen memories of his hand lifting to strike her scattered through her head. She swallowed against the feelings as his hand held hers. As he guided her through the first turn it was not fear she felt, it was an echo of her love, and the emotions of her broken heart. The scent of rosemary in his cologne dragging her back through the years.
His hand braced her lower back possessively as they spun.
‘That young boy you came in with is staring at you. Is there something between you?’
His voice, his words, came across as though he were her husband still. He had no right to question her. She did not answer, using silence as her weapon.
There was no depth to the brown eyes that stared at her, none of the soft emotions she saw in Rob’s eyes.
‘Is there?’ Albert pressed, a threat in his tone.
She felt the room of people watching and heat rose in her skin.
‘Who is he? Is he one of Wiltshire’s sons? He must be one of the Pembrokes’ sons, but which line?’
His voice held the tone she knew from the days when he was violent. If she was to keep Rob out of this, she should say something. ‘He is the younger brother of my sister-in-law, and her whole family are watching you.’
That was true. She hoped they realised she had not chosen this.
