Chapter Thirteen
On the afternoon of the dinner party, Caroline changed quickly into her brown dress, and discovered Marjorie in the dining room, supervising the table setting.
“Might I help with anything, Miss Benedict?” she enquired.
Marjorie glanced up in clear relief, and then squeaked at sight of her. “No, no, the other gown, Miss Grey! The pretty one. Hurry.”
Only when Caroline had changed again was she put to work, arranging table decorations and candles, while Marjorie gazed out of the window, anxiously watching the darkening of the sky.
“Oh dear, I think a storm is coming,” she mourned. “They will not wish to come here in a storm, in case they cannot get home…”
However, despite the fast-worsening weather, the Grants arrived in good time and were shown into the drawing room.
“How wonderful,” Marjorie exclaimed. “We were afraid you would not risk it in this wretched weather.”
“Oh, we’d never do anything in Blackhaven if we let the weather dictate,” Mrs. Grant said cheerfully. “And it is so kind of you to invite us.”
While Marjorie was still introducing Richard, Rosa insinuated herself in front of Mrs. Grant, gazing up at her.
“Rosa,” her father said, placing his hand on her shoulder to pull her back.
But Mrs. Grant only smiled. “You’re wondering where your friends are, aren’t you? They’ll be here, soon. Serena—Lady Tamar—is never punctual, and time is somewhat stretchable to Lord Tamar!”
The Grants were both sociable people and excellent company. Richard and Mrs. Grant turned out to have many London acquaintances in common. In fact, Richard claimed to have worshipped her from afar for years without ever speaking to her, although Mrs. Grant took that with a laughing pinch of salt.
Before dinner had to be put back, the castle entourage arrived. By then, the weather had grown truly filthy, although Serena optimistically maintained the sky would be clear again by nine o’clock.
They ate dinner to the accompaniment of the howling wind, rattling window panes and the battering of rain on glass, but it was a merry meal. Javan, as he occasionally did, exerted himself to be entertaining, and made sure no one was left out of the conversation, for it was an informal table. Caroline was seated strategically between Richard and Rosa, on the fringes of both the adult and children’s groups, and yet not truly part of either. Nevertheless, she enjoyed the fun of the children’s conversation as well as the witty repartee of the adults, to which she only contributed when addressed directly.
Javan never spoke to her personally, although he laughed once at her jest with Serena. He seemed slightly taken aback when it was revealed Grant, too, had once been part of Wellington’s army. But he did not disclose his own career, and neither Marjorie nor Richard tried to make him. For the first time, Caroline began to think seriously that there was more to his secretiveness than just preserving Rosa from the unkind gossip that might be associated with Colonel Benedict.
“You are right, of course,” Richard murmured beside her.
“About what in particular?” she asked lightly.
“The gossip will begin anyway, with Swayle in town. When I was in Blackhaven yesterday, I discovered he has already started foul rumors. To be honest, I’m surprised to see our guests, for he is very plausible.”
“Our guests pay little attention to gossip,” Caroline returned, “having been at various times, the subjects of it themselves. Besides, they are too good natured.”
“Everyone in Blackhaven is not,” Richard said with a little grimness. “They cannot be. This is too bad, just when he’s pulling himself out of—” He broke off abruptly.
Caroline waited, gazing at her plate while her fingers played idly with the stem of her wine glass. But he did not elucidate, and she would not ask. Eventually, she picked up her glass and under the cover of drinking from it, cast a quick glance up the table to Javan.
“There it is again,” Richard murmured, even lower.
“What?” she asked.
“Concern. And yet you never encroach. If I wasn’t the cynic I was born to be, I’d almost imagine you cared for him from afar and were content to do so.”
Stricken, she stared at him. For an instant, he gazed back, then swore under his breath and laughed aloud. “Smile, Miss Grey,” he said between his teeth. “For the benefit of all. I have the lie of the land now and shall act accordingly.”
She smiled blindly, in case anyone was looking at her. “You mean to have me dismissed?” she whispered. Would Javan do that? For her own good? He must know better than Richard how she felt. And of course, she should not stay here feeling as she did for her employer, only…only she could not bear to leave him. Or Rosa. Surely there was a powerful, still-growing bond between all three of them…
“How would I do that?” Richard said reasonably. “I told you I have the lie of the land, and I won’t hurt either of you.”
Confused, she turned away to speak to Rosa and the other children who, at that moment, made more sense.
After dinner, the ladies repaired to the drawing room, leaving the men to their port. The girls were allowed to escape up to the schoolroom to play, although Maria, almost grown-up, opted to stay with the adults.
“The weather is atrocious,” Marjorie said anxiously. “If anything, it’s worse. I hate to think of you going home in that, in the dark. I wonder…” Her eyes glazed as she sank into thought.
“It is wild,” Serena said from the window.
“We have space here, do we not, Miss Grey?” Marjorie said abruptly. “There are two guest bedchambers currently unused, although the young ladies…”
“The two younger ones could fit easily into Rosa’s huge bed with her,” Caroline said. “And we could make up the couch for Lady Maria.”
“Oh no, it would put you to far too much trouble,” Serena objected.
“Not at all,” Marjorie assured. “I’ll just see that the beds are made up and fires lit…”
“Let me do that, ma’am,” Caroline said quietly, and Marjorie smiled gratefully, sinking back down into her chair while Caroline went down to the kitchen.
Two maids were easily pried away from washing up to help make up beds, and Williams went to fetch wood and coal for the fires.
When she finally returned to the drawing room, it was to find the gentleman had rejoined them, and Miss Benedict was about to pour tea. Quietly, Caroline took the cups and saucers from Marjorie and took them to the ladies and gentlemen.
“Efficient as ever,” Javan murmured, when she served him last. “I suppose all our guests now have warm, clean beds to go to?”
“Well, the warming pans are still to go in,” Caroline said apologetically, “but yes, they should be ready by the time everyone retires.”
His lips quirked. “Thank you.”
She searched his eyes quickly. “I hope you do not mind. It seemed the best solution”
“It is. Quite right.” He rested his hip on the arm of an empty chair. Caroline was conscious of an urge to stay with him, to sit in that chair and feel the brush of his coat, his elbow whenever he moved, to simply soak up his nearness. Instead, she walked to the other side of the room and sat by Miss Benedict, where it was safe.
*
With all the girls staying in Rosa’s chamber, her father could not sit with her as he usually did. From bewilderment at her unprecedented company, she went to panic and ran to her father in the drawing room as though to prove to herself he was still there. After that, since Caroline was in and out organizing the girls, the fun of this novelty began to sink in.
By popular demand, Caroline read to them all in bed, and when she stood up to go, the Braithwaite girls all embraced her, declaring how much they missed her and how lucky Rosa was. Touched, Caroline hugged them back, ending with Rosa.
“Shall I stay until you’re all asleep?” she asked, with a quelling look at her old pupils to prevent them ridiculing the idea.
Rosa hesitated, then shook her head and released Caroline to prod Helen in the back and make her squeal.
Without giving a reason, Caroline announced that the night light would remain lit, then left them alone. She read until they quieted down, and then undressed for bed. Despite the noise of the storm, she fell asleep almost immediately.
She woke in darkness to the shuffle of footsteps on the other side of the passage door. Her first thought was that it was the girls up to mischief. She shot out of bed, blundering toward the door and throwing it open before she realized she couldn’t see who was in the passage without a light. Whoever was out there didn’t carry one, but she could still hear the slow, shuffle of feet.
Her fingers were infuriatingly clumsy and slow with the flint, but at last the candle was lit. Seizing it, she hurried out the door just in time to see a male figure vanish around the corner of the passage toward the stairs.
Javan? Was he sleepwalking again? It had been stormy the last time he had done this… What if he went outside again? What if he fell downstairs? Even if he merely embarrassed himself in front of his guests, he would be mortified.
Caroline flung her wrapper around herself, and hastened along the passage, her candle light bobbing and flickering in front of her.
Javan stood with his back to the stairs, quite still, gazing straight ahead. She was afraid to speak to him or to touch him, in case he jerked backward and fell, for he was quite clearly sleepwalking again. Then, without warning, he moved away from her—or perhaps from the light, for he lifted one hand as though shading his eyes. He walked swiftly across the landing, Caroline at his heels.
Her candlelight flickered over the library door, and with relief, she recognized a safe place to wake him. If she could make him go in.
However, as soon as she opened the door, he turned toward the faint noise, as if his dreaming urge to escape was attuned to the sound. He walked straight past her into the room.
Hastily, she followed and closed the door, then set the candle down on the table.
“Sir,” she said quietly, standing directly in front of him. “Sir, you must wake up.”
At the first sound of her voice, he took a decisive step away from her, and yet he paused, looking back toward her, frowning in the dim light, his mouth twisted with some strange mixture of despair and hope.
“I told them,” he said, in peculiar agony. “I told them.”
“Sir, Javan, please wake up!”
He blinked several times and swayed. She caught his elbows and his arms swung around her as though holding himself up.
“Caroline,” he whispered. “Caroline, are you real?”
She took his face between his hands. “Yes, yes, I’m here. You were sleepwalking again.”
His arms tightened as though he’d never let her go.
*
Rosa rarely woke in the night. When she did, there was always the faint, comforting glow of the nightlight allowing her to fall asleep again before the fears took hold. Tonight, too, the nightlight was there, along with the unfamiliar feeling of other people in the bed with her. Helen and Alice. And across the room was Maria. She liked all the girls. She was glad they were there, only…she wished her father was here, too.
At least Miss Grey was on the other side of the door she could just make out in the dim light. For she was sure she could hear distant footsteps. Not him. They couldn’t be him, here at Haven Hall… Still, she needed Miss Grey to tell her so, or even just to see her would show how silly her old fears were. She stood up in the bed, stepped over Helen, and slithered on to the floor before padding across to the governess’s door.
She opened it without knocking, taking the night light with her.
Miss Grey’s bed was empty.
Rosa’s heart began to gallop with fear. She clutched it, trying to calm it, to think. Miss Grey couldn’t have left, wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye. Where was she? Had he got her? Was he here in the hall?
Common sense told her that of course he wasn’t, but still, she needed to know Miss Grey was safe. Had she the courage to go along the dark passage to Papa’s chamber?
Leaving the door open, she returned to her own room. Her knees shook.
“Rosa?” Maria loomed up from the couch, whispering her name. “What is it?”
Without thought, Rosa took her by the hand and dragged her out of bed, and across to the open door, pointing at Miss Grey’s empty bed.
“You want Miss Grey?” Maria murmured. “Now?”
Rosa nodded vehemently.
Maria thought. “She’s probably with Serena. Come on.” This time it was Maria who drew Rosa by the hand to the passage door and along past the landing toward the bedchamber given to Maria’s sister and her husband.
As they passed the library door, Rosa was sure she heard a noise, and shrank closer to Maria.
*
For the second time in his life, Javan woke to find himself gazing into the eyes of Caroline Grey. She took his face between her hands, murmuring words of comfort, her eyes huge with care for him. And the contrast between the horrors of his dream and the sweetness of her presence, her caress, was too great. He pushed against her hands until his mouth found hers, and he kissed her as though he’d never stop. He never wanted to stop.
Somewhere, he’d registered that it was night and that they were in the library. Beyond that, there was only Caroline, the warm softness of her body pressed to his, her scent in his nostrils, her unique taste on his lips, his tongue. Her instinctive passion inflamed him, driving him beyond comfort to raging lust.
Something moved on the edge of his vision.
A familiar voice drawled. “You do know you’re not alone?”
Caroline gasped under his mouth and sprang back.
Javan turned more slowly to face his cousin, who was looming over the back of the sofa, only just within reach of the candle’s faintest illumination. “Richard, what the devil?”
“I was about to ask you the same question. I was here first.”
“Well, what do you mean by skulking here with no light?” Javan demanded.
“I was on watch-for-the-intruder duty, remember? Well, I fell asleep and was having very pleasant dreams before you two battered your way in here and woke me up.” Richard rose to his feet and ambled toward them, a smirk on his handsome face that seemed to betoken both amusement and pleasure. “May I be the first to bless you, my children?”
“Sir, Mr. Benedict was sleepwalking,” Caroline said desperately. “He did not know what he was doing,”
Is that truly what she thought? Or was she simply trying to save the tatters of her reputation? She needn’t have bothered. Richard might tease, but he would never blab.
Richard snorted with laughter. “Truly?” he said and took both her hand and Richard’s and solemnly joined them. Javan would have pulled free and sworn at him had not the library door opened again to reveal a whole host of people.
Rosa pushed past Mrs. Grant and Lord Tamar to run to Caroline. Lady Tamar tried to stop her sister following, and the result was they all tumbled into the room. They had brought their own candles, and so and were afforded a clear view of Caroline in her night rail, stunned. One of her hands had been grasped by Rosa. The other was still held by both Javan and Richard, neither of whom, in their shirt sleeves, were properly dressed to be in a lady’s company.
“Miss Grey!” Lady Tamar exclaimed. She sounded more astonished than shocked. “What on earth is going on?”
The matter was not beyond control. These people were Caroline’s friends. The worst that could happen was that he would have to reveal his tendency to sleepwalk.
Until Richard said, “It isn’t what you think.”
And Lord Tamar, who seemed—damn him—to feel protective toward Caroline, pushed forward with a dangerous frown. “And what exactly is it I think?” he demanded.
“Rupert, the children!” his wife reminded him.
“What are you both doing here with Miss Grey?” Tamar asked bluntly.
Caroline pulled her hands free, furiously hugging herself, remembering no doubt the previous time she’d been accused of impropriety and lost her position. With sudden, blinding clarity, Javan knew how to put it right in the eyes of the word. Knew too that life could hold no greater happiness than being married to Caroline.
He looked from her appalled gaze to Richard’s expectant one, and the words dried in his throat. She’d never believe he loved her now. In any case, was he not insane to put his heart and Rosa’s care in the possession of a woman he’d known less than a month?
The silence stretched. Caroline would no longer look at him. He refused to do this in front of everyone.
“We’ll sort this out in the morning,” he said abruptly. “I suggest we all retire.”
“I don’t—” Tamar began furiously.
“After,” Richard interrupted, “you all also congratulate me on my engagement to Miss Grey.”
The blood roared in Javan’s ears. No! The single word crashed through his head but remained unspoken, for Caroline was staring at Richard in shock.
“This isn’t how we intended it to come out,” Richard said glibly, “but Javan has just given us his blessing in this somewhat unconventional setting, so you might as well know now as tomorrow.”
This was insane. He couldn’t marry Caroline… But she suddenly grasped Richard’s arm and at last the suspicion fell into place that such an engagement was not unplanned. His earlier remarks had been sarcastic, teasing… Richard was charming, undamaged, and the wealthy heir to a baronetcy. Javan was…less.
Somehow, he managed a bow. “Goodnight,” he said and pushed his way out of the room, leaving Caroline being embraced by Lady Tamar and Mrs. Grant and Maria all at once.
Only fury kept the pain at bay.