As to Caroline, she’d been handed over to her Grandfather Walter who’d been a cruel, pious fiend. Under his roof, she’d lived a true Cinderella existence where she’d been maligned and scorned, her spirit crushed in every conceivable way.
She’d escaped that desperate period with her sanity and gentle nature intact, though she couldn’t exactly explain how. She supposed it was a tribute to her deceased parents who’d been kind and happy.
She and Libby had never seen each other again until the prior week, and they still hadn’t seen Joanna. They didn’t know anything about her or her childhood, and they were on pins and needles, waiting to find out.
Mr. Periwinkle was a newspaper reporter who’d written the articles about Libby being Little Henrietta Pendleton, and because of his efforts, she and her father, Lord Roland, were finally together. If the stories hadn’t been printed, her reconciliation with her father probably wouldn’t have happened.
Periwinkle had tracked down Caroline in London and had conveyed her to Libby at Barrett. When they’d been marooned girls, she and Libby had viewed themselves as sisters, and during the years they’d been separated, they’d never stopped thinking they were. Their reunification was the perfect conclusion, and at the wedding, Caroline would be an honored guest who would sit in the front pew at the church.
They wanted Joanna to sit there too, and Mr. Periwinkle had just left to fetch her.
“If you ordered Luke to ride after Joanna,” Caroline said, “would he?”
“Of course. He dotes on me. He can’t help it.”
Caroline chuckled. “Have you noticed how relentlessly you boss the poor man? You have him wrapped around your finger.”
“If he’s not willing to spoil me rotten, what would be the point of marrying?”
Libby studied Caroline as if it were a valid question.
Luke was an aristocrat from an ancient, powerful family. He was a retired naval captain and a hero of the Crown, and Libby was an actress and singer, but she deemed herself the superior person in the match. She’d grown up in the public eye, being adored and fawned over. Now, with her being named Little Henrietta too, she was an aristocrat’s daughter herself.
People had always loved her, and the revelations about Henrietta had rendered her even more infamous. Luke was handsome and commanding, possessed of a fortune, title, and respected lineage, but next to Libby, he faded into the shadows. Yet he was so besotted that he didn’t seem to care.
Libby’s half-sister, Penny, bustled up and whisked her away. Penny was Lord Roland’s other daughter from his second marriage, and she’d been reared to run a mansion like Barrett. Libby had no talent in that arena, so Penny was planning the wedding, as well as the days of celebration that would be held afterward.
As they strolled off, Caroline went in the other direction to locate her own fiancé, Caleb Ralston. He’d just slithered to Barrett from London or, perhaps, it was more accurate to admit that Luke had dragged him to the estate. When they’d still been in town, he and Caroline had quarreled dreadfully, and she’d pretty much decided they would never wind up together. There had been too many unsolvable issues dividing them.
But during their brief amour, she’d been seduced and ruined, and Luke was a stickler for the proprieties. He’d been adamant that Caleb propose to Caroline and that they wed right away. Caleb had complained the entire trip to Barrett, insisting Caroline was too angry to consider it, but Luke was a formidable character who had an annoying habit of getting his way.
So she and Caleb were tying the knot—sooner rather than later—and they intended a small, private event. They didn’t wish to detract from Libby and Luke’s grand fete. Most likely, they would have Luke obtain a Special License for them so they could proceed immediately, and she was wondering if they couldn’t accomplish it just after Libby and Luke spoke their vows.
Why not? The church would be warmed up and the vicar in the nuptial spirit.
Caroline had never been the type to fuss over herself. She simply wanted to have Caleb’s ring on her finger as swiftly as possible so he couldn’t change his mind. He was a confirmed bachelor, and she couldn’t be convinced that he’d ever willingly shackle himself.
In recent weeks, she’d staggered through so many wild escapades that her head was spinning. She’d severed her lengthy betrothal to her awful cousin, then had escaped from her horrid relatives and fled to London by herself. While there, she’d experienced nothing but calamities. Caleb had rescued her from them, but then, he’d promptly ruined her.
They’d fought and parted, then she’d been reunited with Libby. She’d learned she was a rich heiress and her male kin had been stealing from her for decades. And she was about to wed. It was too much to abide or absorb.
It took her forever to find Caleb. He was loafing on the verandah, sitting at a table and drinking a glass of wine. He had recently endured so much upheaval that his head was spinning too. He’d forced his brother, Blake, to marry her cousin, Janet. He’d saved Caroline’s fortune from her despicable uncle. He’d had himself named trustee of her funds so he could protect them for her.
And, merely to make her ecstatically happy—and persuade her to marry him—he’d given his gambling club to his old guardian, Sybil Jones.
He’d served in the navy for years, and after he’d retired, he’d started the club to earn an income. It had been enormously lucrative and enormously debauched, but Caroline had viewed it as an atrocious venture. In order to win her, he’d blithely relinquished it. In the face of such a humbling act, how could she have refused to wed him?
He’d be plenty busy though and never bored. He was a veritable genius with money, and he would manage her vast trust accounts, which meant he would become her kept man—with her having all the wealth in the family
