She dashed out and down to the foyer, and as she reached the bottom of the stairs, the front door was open. Caleb was standing in the driveway with his brother. Their horses were saddled, and they were chatting amicably—as if nothing was wrong.
Her relief at stumbling on him was so intense she was surprised she didn’t collapse. She slowed her pace, then walked outside, not wanting to appear as if she’d been chasing him through the manor.
“Caleb!” she called as she marched toward him. “I heard you were leaving, but I refused to believe it.”
He spun to her, smiling affectionately. “Caro! There you are. I had an early breakfast, and I was hoping I’d see you. When you didn’t come down, I couldn’t wait. We have a long day ahead of us, and we should be off.”
“I’m embarrassed that my uncle kicked you out.”
“You needn’t be embarrassed.”
“I wish you’d spoken to me before you agreed to oblige him.”
“I didn’t think I should argue about it.”
“I hate that he treated you so rudely.”
Caleb shrugged. “It probably couldn’t be helped. In light of my relationship with Gregory, I shouldn’t have visited Grey’s Corner in the first place.”
Their conversation dwindled, and an awkward silence ensued. There were a thousand issues she yearned to address, but would he care about any of them?
If she’d awakened a bit later, if Janet hadn’t warned her that he’d been evicted, he’d have vanished without her realizing what had happened. How many hours would have passed before she’d figured out he was gone?
“Could I talk to you for a minute?” She sounded as if she was begging.
He delayed forever, giving her every indication that he felt it was a bad idea. He glared up at the house, then finally, he said, “I guess we can talk.”
His brother raised a brow. “Don’t dither, Caleb. I’m eager to get to town. If we dawdle, we’ll have to spend the night on the road.”
“This won’t take long,” Caleb said to his brother.
He extended his arm so she could grab hold. She glanced about, searching for a private spot where they could be alone and away from any prying eyes. Ultimately, she led him back into the manor. They went down a hall and entered a deserted parlor.
They turned to each other, and she studied his handsome face, cataloguing every detail so she’d never forget. Yet she couldn’t accept that it was the last time they’d ever be together.
In she had her way, she’d see him again—and soon. She wasn’t about to let him trot away without extracting a promise that, whatever was escalating between them, it wasn’t ending simply because her Uncle Samson was being an ass.
What thoughts were racing through his head? He was such an enigmatic fellow. How was he assessing the situation? She doubted they shared similar views on what the conclusion should be.
She started the discussion. “You were leaving without a goodbye.”
“When I missed you at breakfast, I told myself it was a sign.”
“A sign of what? That I didn’t deserve an explanation? If you’d left without my knowing, I’d have been devastated.”
He winced. “Don’t tell me that. I recognize that your life here has been hard, and I’m afraid my brief association with you has made it even harder. I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“I’ve been flirting with you when I shouldn’t have been, and it’s skewed your impression of me. You’re gazing at me as if we’ve pledged ourselves.”
“It seems as if we have.”
Thankfully, he didn’t disparage her for voicing the comment. “Yes, it seems as if we’re very close, and in a sane world, we’d act on our attraction. We’d become engaged and marry.”
He halted, and when his pause grew too excruciating, she said, “But. . . ?”
“I’m not interested in matrimony.”
He proclaimed it with such certainty, but it wasn’t true. He was rich and charismatic. Women would throw themselves at his feet, and eventually, he’d break down and catch one of them.
Yes, he would wed someday, but it wouldn’t be to her. A vision pummeled her—of the type of gorgeous creature it would be—and she suffered such a wave of jealousy that she was dizzy with dismay.
“Will you be a permanent bachelor?” she asked. “Is that your plan? You’ll be all alone.”
“I’m not alone,” he said. “I have Blake and our old guardian, Sybil Jones. She’s like our mother. The three of us have had many difficult experiences, and we’re tightly bonded.”
“And that’s enough for you? Blake and your old guardian?”
“It always has been.”
She peered down at the floor, her mood at its lowest ebb. She’d endured many distressing moments, but this one was the worst of all.
She’d cried off from her betrothal to Gregory, and as she’d reached that decision, Caleb had appeared—as if by magic. He’d given her something to dream about, and it had been so long since she’d dreamed about anything. It was inordinately cruel for him to snatch it away.
“Don’t be sad, Caro. Please?”
He clasped her hand and linked their fingers, and he pulled her to him so they were snuggled together.
“I can’t help it,” she said. “I was counting on you, although I have no idea why. We’re barely acquainted, but it seems as if we’re connected in a thrilling way.”
“I agree, but I’ll never be anyone’s husband. I have too much of my father’s blood flowing in my veins. I wouldn’t inflict myself on any female.”
“Don’t disparage him to me. I have such fond memories of him, and he has a special place in my affection. He saved my life, Caleb.”
“I know that.”
“This will sound silly, but I feel as if he brought you to me.”
Caleb stared at her for an eternity, and she could practically read his mind. He sensed it too, but he was too stubborn to admit it. And maybe that was for the best. If he was determined to traipse off without a commitment, she shouldn’t hope and pine away.
“My father wouldn’t have brought me to you,” he said. “He didn’t have
