Page 63 of A Rake's Revenge
It took only a few minutes of waiting before she entered from the stairwell on the far side, but even as he started toward her, he slowed his steps. Not only was Lady Ann beside her, but Tisdale had returned as well and was accompanying them both. Bloody hell.
As they approached, Ann gave him a guileless smile and wedged her hand inside the crook of his arm as though his less-than-polite declaration the past Sunday had never happened. Caroline didn’t meet his eye, focusing her gaze somewhere over his shoulder with such intensity that he was tempted to turn around and check if something extraordinary had just occurred. He sighed inwardly. No one else was emulating her look, so he assumed her scrutiny was intentionally meant to ignore him.
For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what had caused Caroline’s sudden coolness. She couldn’t possibly still be angry that he had not insisted she stay on board theLadyfor dinner on Saturday night. Could she? He’d thought she would see the logic in not confronting her father, but he’d not had a chance to ask or explain since dinner on Sunday had been interrupted, and she’d been acting strangely ever since. He never thought Caroline the type who expected shows of knightly gallantry like throwing cloaks across puddles. But hell. Maybe she did. Stephan had nevercourteda woman before, so what did he know? And how had what had started out as simply a stolen—if passionate—kiss on a dark, London street turned so complicated?
Tisdale started to offer his arm to Caroline, but she moved ahead at the same time and didn’t take it. Stephan couldn’t swear it had been deliberate, but he hoped it had. Tisdale did not look pleased. At least, Stephan could be grateful for that small favor. They followed Caroline inside, Ann still clinging to Stephan’s arm and chatting away about a lawn party planned for the day before the regatta.
Stephan listened with half an ear, watching as Caroline made a beeline for a seat next to the duke and duchess. He gave his head a slight shake to clear it. Perhaps he was not the one going daft. Perhaps Caroline had become a bit touched in the head, although he didn’t recall any bumps or knocks she’d taken recently. But why else in the world would she be seeking out not only Amelia, but her nemesis as well? Although Stephan had to admit George was looking about as perplexed as he himself felt.
“Lord Kendrick, I am so glad to see you,” Amelia said gaily as though they were long-lost friends. “Danworth was thinking about all of us getting together for a walkabout this afternoon.”
From the flash of surprise that passed over the duke’s face, Stephan was pretty sure such a thought had not even occurred to him. But then it seemed Prinny’s party was turning rapidly into a mad world, so who knew?
“Oh, that would be wonderful!” Ann exclaimed and clutched Stephan’s arm with both hands. “Do you not agree, Lord Kendrick?”
He managed to extricate his arm, wondering if, perhaps, Ann was somewhat brain-addled as well. Maybe she had hit her head on something on the boat. She did have a bruise on her cheek. Had she not understood that when he’d said—far more bluntly than he normally would—she was not welcome on his boat, he meant not to have anything to do with her? Or maybe, given the way the past two days had gone, he hadn’t said anything at all and the words only lived in his imagination. For a moment, he wished Brice was here—smirk and all—to confirm that Stephan was still sane.
“I am afraid I must decline. With only three days to go before the race, I need to take advantage of the weather,” Stephan said. “The barometer started dropping this morning, so we may not be able to get another sea trial in before Saturday.”
“And I promised my maid I would let her practice several new styles with my hair,” Caroline said, “so this afternoon will not work for me, either.”
Stephan blinked to hide his confusion. Caroline had maintained the same hairstyle the entire time they’d been here. It was the same hairdo she’d worn the fateful night he had stopped her carriage. And, if his memory served—which he wasn’t all too sure of right now—it seemed the same configuration from the time he had met her the year before. Maybe she’d declined on purpose? He hoped so, but he felt like he was rapidly slipping into quivering sands.
Amelia looked disappointed. “Well, then. Let us plan for tomorrow.”
Tisdale spoke up. “That will not do. I am planning to take Miss Nash for our promised sail tomorrow afternoon.”
What?Not if Stephan could help it. “Did you not hear me say the barometer is dropping? You cannot take a lady out sailing if it is going to storm.”
“Posh. The weather is clear and the wind light.”
“Today.”
“We might get a little rain, but storms take time to develop.”
“Not always.”
“I think you are deliberately trying to scare Miss Nash,” Tisdale said. “May I remind you, the prince agreed I could have my hour-and-a-half? What with the lawn party Friday, time is running out. Besides, theSea Masteris aptly named. It can handle anything.”
“It is not wise to tempt the sea,” Stephan said.
“Superstition.” Tisdale waved a dismissive hand. “We sail tomorrow.”
Caroline finally looked at Stephan. “I am sure things will be fine.”
He stared at her, not quite sure he’d heard correctly. Caroline wasagreeingto go sailing with Tisdale? Or was she just trying to appease the idiot? Stephan clenched his jaw. Either way, he and theLadywould be following behind.
And once the damn hour-and-a-half was up and she was safely back on shore, Miss Caroline Nash and he were going to have a talk. A long one.
…
Stephan was still frustrated when he got to the quay an hour later only to find that not only was theLadynot ready to sail, but Eric and Brice had removed the mainsail and spread it on the dock in front of the boat.
“What is wrong?”
“The leather stitching around the clew is frayed,” Eric said.
Stephan knelt down and smoothed his hand over the outward pointed edge of the sail where the sheets used for trimming the sails were normally attached. This end was reinforced with leather strips to keep the friction of constant pulling and tugging from wearing through the canvas.
