Page 9 of The Secret Love of a Gentleman
Beyond them, Rob caught Caroline looking again. He smiled. Pink patches stained her cheeks before she had a chance to look away.
Rob stood. It would be crass of him not to partner one of his sisters or female cousins in the dancing.
They danced a string of country dances, and the only person who sat out for every one of them was Caroline, yet she watched the dancing intently. If he were courageous, he would offer to partner her, but she never danced. Did she want to feel able to dance? Perhaps her fears were trapping her and this way of living was not really her choice.
Idealism was certainly his fault, because in his mind’s eye he saw her dancing, talking, laughing and smiling. She had come to life when she spoke with Mary at the table. How much more would she come to life if she danced without fear?
I shall dance with her by the end of the summer.The promise whispered through his thoughts. He abhorred dares, dares were another thing that were Harry’s forte. But determination was Rob’s forte, if he wanted to achieve something and he set his mind to it, he always achieved it.
He must apply that belief to his ability to win a seat in the House of Commons – he must set his mind to it and be determined to achieve it – the plan would follow.
4
THREE YEARS EARLIER
A piercing pain struck Caroline’s jaw as the sharp edge of Albert’s signet ring cut her skin. Her head snapped back, her gaze ripped from the blue of her husband’s eyes. He was a villain, this man she loved.
Her hand lifted to protect her face from another blow while she grasped the back of a chair to stop herself from falling. ‘Please. Stop. I did nothing wrong.’
‘Nothing…?’ he growled at her through teeth gritted in bitter anger.
His hand lifted again.
She covered her face with both hands, to avoid the next strike. It hit her across the side of her head, a hard slap. Tears flooded her eyes as she fell – from the pain of the blow, and the pain in her heart.
‘What did I do?’ Caro cried, her arms covering her head as her body curled into a dormouse-like ball on the hard floorboards, making herself as small as possible.
‘You lived, while my son died!’ The accusation rang about her bedchamber.
She was cursed. She could not carry a child, could not give him the heir he needed. He leaned over her, every muscle in his body taut with accusation.
She loved this man, regardless.He hates me.
‘Your doctor spoke to me today. He thinks you may never bear a child. He believes your womb is damaged.’
Caro swallowed back the emotions catching in her throat. She knew. She had been told.
There was nothing to say in her defence. She had lost another child and she might never be able to carry an infant to full-term. Tears ran from her eyes, drowning her. How many more times, how many more children? How long could she endure this?
‘I need a son! Give me a son, Caro! That is all I ask. You are capable of conceiving, you must be capable of birthing!’
As the blows had stopped, she lifted a hand from her face.
His gaze softened. His eyes were like the azure stones in one of her necklaces, an entrancing blue. Even in his vicious moods, when he was cold and callous, she still saw the man she married, the man who gave her months of happiness.
But each time he behaved like this, a little more of her died.
He turned away.
How could she love a man who terrified her? Because there were the times when he was kind.
She unravelled from the ball and dared to stand up. ‘I am trying to give you a son,’ she said, though her quiet voice denied it because she no longer believed she could. Five children lay in shallow graves beside where her husband buried his dogs, because they had not lived to be baptised and could not be buried in a churchyard.
When he looked at her, there was nothing but disappointment in his eyes.
Long ago, once upon a time, Caro believed in his love. Then,her marriage was a happy-ever-after. There were many gifts and late hours dancing the nights through at balls. When they were separated in rooms, his gaze had followed her. When they walked together, gentle touches said, silently,I love you.But her happy-ever-after was doomed. It had never been love on his part, it had been obsession.
‘Trying is not enough. I need a son. You will do your duty.’
