Jane Lark - The Secret Love of a Gentleman

She walked past the stairs to the nursery. Drew and Mary would be up there, either continuing their disagreement or ending it.

Caro went to her rooms and collected her bonnet, so she might walk outside. The sunshine and the sounds of nature would calm the turmoil inside her.

When she came down she used the servants’ stairs to avoid the possibility of another encounter with Robbie.

The servants’ hall brought her out into the walled garden. It was full of vegetables waiting to be harvested for the table, and rows of flowers to be cut to fill the vases in the house. The scent of herbs caught on the breeze as her skirt brushed the leaves of the thyme, mint and rosemary.

A flock of sparrows chirped riotously, chasing each other through tall beanstalks, seeking insects.

Caro walked on, smiling at the gardeners, who lifted their caps, as she had smiled at the servants who’d curtsied and bowed within the house.

She felt no unease with them.

But they bore no comparison to the life she’d left—she had no need to feel judged by them.

She walked from the walled garden through the narrow wooden door onto the lawn, which fronted the house and followed the path that would lead her about the hedge into the parterre gardens. New scents greeted her: lavender, roses and the sharp smell of the pelargoniums that grew in pots positioned along the path.

~

Rob watched Caroline from the library window as she walked the path at the edge of the lawn, heading towards the parterre gardens.

He’d not gone up to the nursery for fear he’d be intruding on Mary and Drew. He’d go up later, but that meant he was currently at a loose end.

He freed the latch and opened the French door, then stepped out as Caroline disappeared behind the same tall hedge he’d seen her go behind the other day.

When he walked across the lawn he realised he’d come outside hatless and gloveless, but his stay was informal.

He turned the corner and saw her on the other side of the hedge.

She stood at the edge of a flower border, reaching down and leaning forward, pulling a flower to her nose.

His heart made an odd little stutter. If he could draw as well as John, it would have been a perfect pose to capture—the serenity of a summer morning.

He walked closer, the grass silencing his footsteps. “Caroline.”

She jumped half out of her skin, turning and stumbling.

He was close enough to catch her arm and stop her falling. Her bosom lifted with a sharp breath, and her hazel eyes, in the shadow of her bonnet, burned like soft amber.

“You frightened me.” When he let go of her, she stepped away.

“I’m sorry. I did not intend to. I saw you come out, and I had nothing to do…”

She looked into Rob’s eyes as though she saw a puzzle that confused her.

It made him unsure what to say. I wish she would be braver, Drew had said the other day. We have male servants, after all. “Do you think it possible that by the end of the summer we may be friends?”

Her bosom lifted with a breath. “That would b-be nice. But you will have to f-forgive me. I-I am not b-brave. I’m sorry.”

She turned away and she would have left him again, but he gripped her arm. It would discompose her and yet, when the woman kept running, how else was he to keep her there long enough to speak?

The muscles in her arm stiffened within his hold. “We may progress at your pace. But I do not see why it is not possible. That is what I hope for.”

She nodded.

When he let her go she turned away and walked further into the garden; he presumed to find solitude and security.

She must have endured much in her past. He knew Drew had helped her leave her violent husband, but her husband must have been very violent for her to still be affected by it after so many years.

Pity clasped in his stomach. Perhaps it was that which had caught him in the gut the other day. She might suffer with fear, but he also thought she suffered with wounded pride, because she was embarrassed, by her husband perhaps…

When Rob walked into the drawing room, in time for the dinner gong, he hoped Caroline would be there.

She was not.

He’d not seen her since they’d spoken in the garden and it would be hard to make a friend of her, to the point that he might make her laugh and dance, if she was never about.

“You are late, Robbie. Did my son exhaust you?” Drew walked forward and grasped Rob’s arm, turning him around so they could go to the dining room, leaving Mary to walk behind them for a moment.

Rob glanced back at Mary, wondering what Caroline did in the evening when she did not come down to dinner. “Did Drew tell you, your son is a natural with a bat. He quite surprised me. By the end of the afternoon I had him hitting nearly every ball Drew threw.”

“When I am sure they were very carefully thrown to hit his bat.” Mary smiled at Drew.

He let go of Rob’s arm, turned back and took her hand. “Perhaps.”

The two of them walked beside Rob as they continued.

Rob longed to ask Drew more about Caroline. He wished to understand her.

“Caro. I did not think you were coming down.”

Rob looked forward when Drew spoke. Caroline stood at the foot of the stairs to the second floor. Her fingers were clasped together at her waist. She had not been there when he’d come from his rooms a moment ago.

She wore a shimmering amber silk dress. It drew out the variety of colours in her hazel eyes, and in her blonde hair too. Nothing about her was one shade. One lock of gold hair fell to her throat and a necklace with a single amber cross pendant lay in the cleft between her breasts.

A moment ago, as he’d made his way to the drawing room, a dozen topics to encourage her into talking had been spinning in his head. There were no words there at all now. He swallowed against the dryness in his mouth. He was thirsty tonight.

“I changed my mind,” she answered Drew, only looking at Drew.

“Caroline,” Rob stated, as she walked nearer.

She looked at him and dropped a very slight curtsy, then turned to walk beside her brother. There was not room for them to walk four astride, so Rob held back and Mary let go of Drew’s hand, then dropped back to walk beside Rob.

How many times had Mary given up her husband for the comfort of his sister? It seemed an odd scenario. Surely Caroline could not enjoy such a life.

When they reached the dining room, Drew pulled out a chair for Caroline. “Caro.”

A footman pulled Mary’s chair out and Rob walked about the table to sit opposite Caroline, while Mary sat at the other end of the table to Drew. It was not like dining at John’s. Drew’s manor was small, and their dining table arranged for a small family, not a stately affair.

Once seated, Rob leaned back to allow the footman to pour him a glass of white wine, and across the table, although he kept his gaze lowered, he could see Caroline’s slender fingers reaching for a small fork and spoon as she was served muscles in a cream sauce. Her hands shook.

Rob lifted his glass of wine and took a sip as Mary and then Drew were served, and then he leant back as he was too, the glass still in his hand, his eyes turning to the footman.

It was hard to avoid looking at Caroline, especially when he was so pleased she had come downstairs. Yet he did not wish to do anything that might upset her and dissuade her from coming down again.

When the footman finished dishing up the mussels, Rob looked up. He caught Caroline watching him. She looked down at her meal, her cheeks colouring a little.

Friends. He hoped they could achieve it. He thought it would be good for her, and it was a good foundation on which to build the hope of making her laugh and dance with him.