A Rose At Midnight. Jacqueline Navin

has met him and has decided this is best.”

      His frown deepened and his lip quivered. “Then, I am not to live in the palace?”

      “No, not at first,” Caroline said. She smoothed his tousled hair and chucked him on the chin. “But only for a little while. Then you will live there forever and ever!” He still seemed uncertain. Caroline had an inspiration. “You know, this is like a grand adventure, don’t you think? It is as if you are a secret prince, whom we must hide while we fight to restore you to your kingdom so you can rule from your lovely palace.”

      It worked. His eyes lightened. “Hurrah! And can I fight with a sword?” He paused, perplexed. “Who are we fighting?”

      In truth, the only person who stood between James and his “palace” was Magnus, but Caroline was not about to say so. “A legion of dragons!”

      Catching the excitement, James exclaimed, “Oh, yes! And they have a sorcerer to do their bidding, who has cast a spell on me to make me ill!”

      Caroline’s breath caught. “Y-yes, darling. Come, let me carry you back to bed, and I will tell you the whole story.”

      It took hours to hammer out the elaborate plot, but between the two of them they conjured a wondrous fantasy. Audrae stood beside her children, sometimes listening, other times looking lost in thought. They ate dinner and played a lively game of cards, after which James was exhausted. Caroline went to change for bed while her mother crooned a lullaby in her soft, lilting voice.

      Alone, Caroline reflected on David, whom she found to be a congenial fellow, and she hoped she had made a friend. The servants were well-mannered and polite, with ready smiles for her and respectful curtsies. And the house was magnificent. Overall, she was quite satisfied with what she had learned of Hawking Park.

      Yet, most of her thoughts this night were of Magnus Eddington. She could still see him in her mind’s eye. Dragging his bowl and water goblet down to sit by her. Guiding her proudly through his ancestral home. Or silhouetted against the sky as he studied the garden he would never again see in its glory.

      She was feeling less than elated when her mother came in. “Mother,” she began, “do you think I am doing a terrible thing?”

      Audrae’s voice held surprise. “Why, child?”

      “To benefit from this man’s tragedy. It seems wrong.”

      Audrae walked to the bed, pensive. She sat with a sigh. “The Earl of Rutherford will die. His tragedy exists with or without you, Cara.” Turning to her daughter, she patted the space beside her. When Caroline sat, she held her hand. “I know I have had my doubts about all this, but they were doubts about whether this was the right thing for you, darling. For the earl, I truly know you will indeed be a blessing to him in his last days, for he has a chance to leave this earth knowing his most heartfelt desire has been realized.”

      “I know,” Caroline whispered.

      Audrae nodded, giving Caroline’s hand a pat. “You are a good girl, Cara. And smart. Smarter than I. I married your father because I confused lust with love, and I thought I knew everything the world had to offer. I was such a young fool, and forgive me for speaking ill of your father, but I lived to regret it so.”

      “Oh, Mother.” Caroline knew her mother had been miserable with Louis Wembly, but they had never spoken so openly about it before.

      “I tell you this not for sympathy, but so you know you could be doing far worse than a dying earl. God forgive me, but I thank the Lord for taking Louis, for he grew more dissolute each year. Drinking and gambling, and there were other women, you might as well know, a string of mistresses.”

      Caroline gasped in rage. “How dare he spend a farthing on other women when his own family was in need!”

      “He cared for no one but himself. Nothing that man did would surprise me.”

      That last statement slammed into Caroline’s brain. Her eyes snapped wide and she stared at her mother, wondering if Audrae were trying to hint at something. Does she know?

      Audrae continued. “So you see, I have made peace with your decision by telling myself of the advantages of widowhood. As the countess, you would have power and money, and with it, something no woman achieves alone—the right to your own destiny. Your life would be your own.”

      Her heartbeat slowed as Caroline realized her mother suspected nothing.

      “You just make certain the earl is kind to you.” Audrae wagged her finger at her daughter, as if she were but eight years old and caught pilfering a biscuit before supper. “If he does anything to harm you, or humiliate you, or cause you strife, you come home.”

      Amused at the heated admonishment, Caroline grinned. “Yes, Mother.”

      Catching herself, Audrae stared at her finger and offered her daughter a baleful look. “Habits die hard.”

      They fell to laughing then readied themselves for sleep. It was not long, however, before Caroline’s thoughts turned once again to the earl. The image of his proud, handsome face would not leave her, following her into sleep and haunting her dreams.

      On Wednesday morning, Magnus sent a message requesting she receive him at one o’clock, and invited Audrae to join them at four for high tea in one of the Ordinary’s private dining rooms.

      “Finally,” Audrae said. “Now I shall see him and judge for myself. It is about time he instituted some semblance of propriety. I know this whole marriage is unconventional, but I believe I should at least meet the man who is to be my son-in-law before the actual wedding.”

      Caroline set about choosing something from her meager wardrobe. He had already seen her in the fabulous blue gown she had worn at her first interview, and subsequently in the more sober muslin, which was her second best. That left the drab gray wool skirt with its matching short jacket. Once elegant, it was now downright shabby, a bit too short and only still wearable because the loose-fitting white shirtwaist did not pull across her breasts, as all her other old dresses did.

      She knew the earl did not expect her to be glamorously dressed, as her needful state was precisely the reason she was marrying him, yet she did not want to shame him. She told herself this was the reason she fussed with her toilette and spent much longer than was her habit dressing her hair.

      The maid came up to tell her Magnus was waiting below in the hall.

      “I shall see you at four,” her mother said. Her eyes swept over Caroline critically. She adjusted an errant curl at Caroline’s temple and said, “You are lovely.”

      “Thank you, Mother.” Her hand came over her stomach to still the wild fluttering. Taking a deep breath, she descended the stairs.

      He was waiting for her at the bottom. Dressed impeccably in dark waistcoat and breeches, he looked every inch an earl. Caroline faltered, and he glanced up just then, his gaze flickering over her in a quick assessment. Selfconsciously, she smoothed her hands down her skirt, wishing it were not so plain, or worn, or outdated.

      “Good afternoon,” he said, reaching his hand out for her.

      She placed her fingers in his broad, warm palm, feeling a tremor of reaction shoot up her arm. “Good day, Magnus.”