Page 2 of Lady in Ruby
“Husbands like their wives to stay at home,” Estelle cautioned.
“My husband will want me to stay at his side.”
“Caro dear, I fear you are setting yourself up for a fall,” her friend said. “Women cannot afford to be so picky when it comes to marriage.”
“I can,” Caroline said before realizing how cruel her words sounded. “Oh, Estelle, forgive me. I didn’t mean to…”
“I know what you meant,” Estelle said, a gentle smile lighting her face. “There’s no reason to pretend that we have the same concerns. You have money, I have not. That’s just the way it is. I’m grateful that the sales of my paintings bring in a little income for Mama.”
“Estelle, if there’s justice in the world, a lord will fall in love with you and make you his bride.”
Her friend laughed softly, then murmured, “A lord? Goodness, Caroline. Why would a lord ever come to Hollydell?”
The two young ladies headed toward home. Estelle asked Caroline if she’d found any of the presents her parents meant to give her at the New Year—the Garlands long maintained a silly game of hiding and searching for presents before the day. It was part of their passion for the fun and games of the Yuletide season.
“Not yet,” Caroline admitted. “I’ve been busy.”
“You can hunt for some when we get back. Before the guests start arriving.”
Caroline nodded. Hearing some sound in the clearing, she glanced back at the icy snowman, that pillar of perfection they’d just crafted. It stood alone in the clearing, all white and blue. For the slightest moment, she fancied she saw it move. But no, it was just a shadow crossing the clearing. She shook her head, shivering in the sudden breeze. She was a creature of logic, and logic clearly dictated that snowmen did not come alive.
Chapter 2
After Caroline and Estelle returned to the house, Estelle immediately went to lie down for a while, saying she needed to rest until she could feel her toes again. Estelle always looked fragile, with her light blonde hair and pale complexion, but after a day in the snowy forest, she looked decidedly arctic. Caroline promised that she’d send Maggie up with hot tea.
Since she was in no way tired, even after the morning’s exertions, Caroline chose to sit in the parlor and read one of her notebooks, reviewing previous experiments she’d tried over the past several days. Her father was a noted natural philosopher focused on chemistry, and his current goal was to develop a substance that a person could take to counter the effects of extreme cold. He’d been inspired to discover such a formula after reading of the shocking death toll that occurred among the multiple armies fighting in Russia the previous winter.
Horrified by the reports, he’d said, “Imagine if our own army, or any of our allies, had to go through that again this winter. If we can save even one life, it’s a worthy endeavor.”
Naturally, Caroline wanted to help. She frequently carried out minor experiments and tests necessary for her father’s more complex efforts. They started with known remedies, such as strong spirits and warming spices, trying to isolate what activated the effects while eliminating the drawbacks.
“Alcohol is dangerous because the warming effect actually introduces greater danger, in the form of slowed mental acuity and the tendency to lose more heat—evidenced by the flushing of skin so often seen among heavy drinkers, you know,” he’d explained early on. “The spices show more promise, but their expense renders it impossible to afford for a whole host of soldiers on the march. We must distill their useful chemical components into a portable and potable form—while ensuring the cost does not exceed a reasonable amount. It is a great challenge.”
The challenge had gone on the better part of the whole year. Caroline was deep into her study when her mother suddenly hurried in. She said, “Caroline, please put your work away. A guest has arrived!”
“And?” Caroline asked, looking up blankly, her mind still lost in the problem of chemical combinations.
“And you must meet him!”
Him? Warning bells clanged in her head.
“This had better not be another suitor, Mama.”
“Goodness, no. I think he’s an associate of your father’s somehow.” Rarely was her mother so flustered. “Do come. Oh, Caro, are you still wearing your day dress?”
“Yes, as it’s still daytime.”
Her mother sighed. “Well, the color does look well on you. Come along.”
In the more formal west parlor, Caroline stepped across the threshold and immediately noticed the man standing by the window, looking out. The edges of the window were rimed with frost, and she knew for a fact that breezes often snuck in between the panes. Wasn’t he cold? Wouldn’t he prefer to stand near the fireplace if he’d just arrived?
Then he turned around. Icy blue eyes met hers, and Caroline felt a bit faint.
This man was perhaps the most handsome she’d ever seen.
“Hurry along, Caroline,” her mother urged, practically pushing Caroline into the room. “Lord Snowdon had a long journey! My lord, may I present my daughter, Miss Garland.”
“Miss Garland, how do you do,” the man said, bowing. His voice was cool and smooth, and oh so enchanting. He took her hand and raised it to his lips, a very proper greeting that nonetheless sent anticipatory chills down her spine.
