She chuckled. “I do barely know you.”
“That’s true, isn’t it?”
“But I think I should know you quite a bit better.”
He raised a brow. “How might we accomplish it?”
She felt as if she was running toward a cliff and about to jump over. “It’s awfully chilly in here. Aren’t you freezing?”
“Now that you mention it, I am cold.”
“Would you like me to warm you? We could snuggle for awhile.”
She lifted the blankets and patted the spot next to her on the bed. He studied her, studied the blankets, then said, “Why the hell not? I have a lengthy ride tomorrow. I might as well have some fun tonight.”
Caroline woke with a start. She’d been fast asleep and a noise had roused her. She stared into the dark, overwhelmed by the strongest sense that someone was out in the hall.
She glared at the wood, wishing she had magical eyes so she could see who was on the other side. Her first thought was that it had to be Caleb, and she nearly tossed off the covers and rushed over to peek out, but what if it was Mrs. Starling? What if it was Gregory?
It was late and, no doubt, people had been drinking. If it was either of them, they’d be intoxicated and much more disagreeable than normal. She wouldn’t risk an encounter.
Yet she could practically feel the person reaching out, pondering whether to knock. Then, whoever it had been, he tiptoed away, and she was sure it had been Caleb.
He must have needed to talk to her, and the topic must have been vitally important. What might it have been? Marriage perhaps? It seemed to be their unfinished business.
She threw off the blankets and dashed to the door. She fumbled with the key and yanked it open, but the hall was empty, and she wondered if she’d imagined the whole thing. She listened intently, but she couldn’t hear anyone retreating.
She staggered to the bed and nestled under the covers. She focused her mind, sending a frantic message to him, apprising him to come back. He didn’t though, and eventually, she fell into a fitful slumber.
When morning finally arrived, she was grouchy and peevish, and clearly, it would be a very long day.
“I’ve given the issue significant thought.”
“Good. So have I.”
Samson frowned at Caroline, and she looked miserable. Her reduced condition proved she was conflicted about her decision to cry off, so he had to decide for her. He had to keep her on the appropriate path, that path being marriage to Gregory.
They were in the dining room and having breakfast. Gregory was nowhere to be found, but for some reason, Janet was up and eating too. She appeared annoyingly perky.
Samson had ordered Lucretia Starling and Caleb Ralston to vacate the premises, but it was already nine o’clock and—unless they’d left early—he hadn’t noticed them preparing to depart.
If they didn’t slither away shortly, he would begin knocking on bedchamber doors to hurry them along. He was determined to get the nuptials back on track, and he was certain, once the infuriating duo vanished—so they weren’t shoved in Caroline’s face every second—matters would calm and she would return to being the malleable young lady she’d been in the past.
“I command you to proceed with the wedding,” he said.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
She sipped her tea, staring blandly, as if she hadn’t just brazenly defied him. He rarely lost his temper. He’d observed too much of that kind of behavior from his horrid father, but she was being so recalcitrant. Would a sound whipping bring her around?
“You can marry Gregory and you will,” he firmly stated.
Janet chimed in with, “Stop badgering her, Father. I’m delighted that she called it off. You should be too. Gregory has so many problems, and we need to address them. It’s cruel to pressure her.”
“Stay out of this, Janet. Caroline is my ward, and I am her guardian. I’m standing in for her father, and her welfare is my primary concern. I’m only trying to do what’s best for her.”
Janet chuckled snidely. “You think Gregory is best?”
He slammed his fork down on his plate. “This is between Caroline and me. Your comments are neither wanted nor necessary. Be silent or leave.”
“No. You’re hoping to browbeat her, and you’re a bully who manipulates her to your own benefit. I am her staunchest ally, and I shall be a bulwark to ensure she thwarts you for a change.”
For years, Janet had been snippy and rude. She read radical books and cherished the theories contained in them. He’d humored her, assuming it was a phase and she’d grow out of it. But it was obvious she’d adopted the peculiar teachings to where she presumed she could disrespect her father without consequence.
Her impertinence had him realizing it was time she had a husband. She was twenty, and she was entirely too bold in her attitudes and ideas. A stern husband would tamp them down quickly enough.
He sat in his chair, studying the two women as they continued with their meal. They were chatting quietly, ignoring him as if he were invisible, and their insolence had him fuming.
He absolutely would not lose control of Caroline’s fortune. If he had to drag her to the altar in chains and speak the vows for her, he would seriously consider doing that. He couldn’t imagine their local vicar would participate though, but there were ways for a father or uncle to garner what he desired from an intractable daughter or niece.
There had to be a corrupt preacher in the country who could be bribed to host a ceremony that would bind her to Gregory. Samson was in charge of her, so he could probably accomplish it without her even being present. And of course, there was the option Gregory had suggested: They could declare she was suffering from hysteria and have her committed to an asylum.
With the
