The Secret Love of a Gentleman. Jane Lark

tried to think of questions he might ask to draw her into the conversation, but his mind remained blank.

      She leaned back to let a footman clear her place. Then on the next plate she was served fish terrine, chicken in aspic and sliced venison.

      He lifted his glass and took a sip of wine, as she did, and their gazes collided. He smiled. In the candlelight her eyes were more matt than they were in daylight, but there was still a warm glow in the colour about the wide onyx circles at their centre.

      She looked at Mary, her skin turning a deep red. “What will you do tomorrow, Mary?”

      “We could drive to Maidstone if you’d like, Caro, and visit some of the shops?”

      “That would be pleasant.”

      ~

      As Caro listened to Mary speak of the things she would buy tomorrow, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to slow the beat of her heart and loosen the vice tightening about her chest. She was too aware of Robbie, of the way his dark-blue eyes studied her. Yet he was sitting opposite, it was only natural for him to look at her, and she had watched him too. It had been mean to ask him not to stare.

      Friends. He had proposed this morning. Friends! And she had said that would be nice. But she’d never had a friend. Mary, perhaps, was the closest person to such a thing, but Mary was Drew’s confidante and Caro had deliberately avoided interfering too deeply in their closeness.

      Caro thought of Albert and heard Robbie’s words. Do you think it might be possible that by the end of the summer we will be friends, Caroline?

      Even from the beginning, when Albert may have adored her and admired her, he’d never treated her as an equal. He would never have considered a woman his friend.

      She looked at Robbie and he smiled as he leant back to let a footman serve him. His smiles were swift, open and warm. There was no malice or artifice in him. He was a kind man. Thoughtful.

      Friends. The idea appealed to her, and terrified her. She could not have seen it as a possibility if he’d asked in the company of his extended family. But here… She could imagine they might achieve it when it was the four of them. He was likeable.

      He lifted his wine glass. She could see how gently his fingers gripped the stem, as they’d touched her twice. She could not see his hands about a woman’s throat. They were hands designed for creativity, writing, art or music, or honest labour.

      He was different from his cousins and his younger brother, not brash and assertive, simply confident. Drew at his age had been an inferno of aggressive, defensive anger, fighting against the world. But Robbie seemed to sit back and watch it.

      She tried to imagine Albert at Robbie’s age. Albert had been handsome, but not in the way Robbie was. Robbie had a masculine beauty, not simply a handsome face. The women in his family had a beauty that was breathtaking, and in Robbie it was striking, he had elements of his father’s angled features, marked with the Pembrokes’ large eyes and full lips.

      He spoke to her brother, joining in a conversation Drew and Mary were having about George.

      Robbie laughed as Drew admitted that he intended to pamper George in everything. It was a deep, low sound.

      He glanced at her, as if he knew she’d been watching him, and smiled again, even more warmly.

      His dark-blue eyes glittered in the candlelight.

      She smiled again too, weakly, then looked at Mary and tried to join the conversation, her heart thumping steadily. She was not wholly comfortable, yet she did not feel the onset of panic.

       Chapter 8

      The day had indeed been pleasurable, using the word Caroline had applied to her anticipated trip into town. Rob liked Drew’s company, and he was actually impressed with the way Drew handled himself among his tenants. He’d earned their respect in the years since he’d taken over this property. People looked up to him because they liked him, not simply because he was the landowner, and they sought his opinion on subjects that four years ago Rob doubted Drew could have even discussed.

      Then, of course, everyone they’d met on their circuit had enthused over George, and the boy had lapped up all the attention with his usual gusto.

      But as Mary had predicted, George had become tired. He’d been complaining for the last hour and asking to go home, and now he was stretched sideways across Drew’s saddle, one of his arms draped about Drew’s hip, where he’d been holding his father before he’d fallen asleep with Drew’s forearm as his pillow.

      George’s other hand was at his mouth, and his thumb hung at the corner of his lips, where he’d been sucking on it.

      It meant their return ride was restricted to the pace of a walk as Drew cradled George on one arm and tried not to dislodge him with the rock of the horse.

      They were still about twenty minutes away from the house when Rob heard the sound of a single horse cantering along the dry mud track and the creak of a vehicle. Gripping the pommel of his saddle, Rob turned to look back, steering his animal off the track and out of its path. He recognised the trap, even though it was a distance away. It was the vehicle Drew had bought for Mary to drive when she wished to go out alone. He saw the two women.

      Mary wore a wide-brimmed straw bonnet and she was clothed in pink, while Caroline was wearing pale-lemon yellow, with an ivory shawl and parasol. The pair of them made a tableau from a ladies’ magazine.

      “Mary.” Rob stated, looking back at Drew, knowing that Drew would not have been able to look with George sprawled across his thighs. “You’re in for it now. She said you’d wear George out.”

      Drew laughed, but he pulled his horse to a halt as the trap approached.

      “Whoa,” Mary called to slow her horse. Obviously she’d recognised them from a distance too. She stared at Drew as she slowed the trap to a halt.

      Drew looked downward and gave Mary a devil-may-care smile, which dared her to challenge him if she wished to.

      “He is exhausted,” she said, her gaze shifting to George.

      “He is asleep,” Drew answered. “Because he had a wonderful time and needed to rest.”

      Mary clucked her tongue and made a face at Drew. She knew her husband well. There was no point challenging Drew, she would not win the argument.

      “He did have a wonderful time,” Rob assured her, “Everyone made a fuss over him and he spent his first hour laughing his head off with glee at the opportunity of such a long ride, and he has been given a dozen biscuits.”

      Mary frowned at him, reprimanding him for siding with Drew.

      “Don’t turn your wrath on me,” Rob stated jokingly, “I am not to blame. But George did enjoy it.”

      “Will you hand George to me, Drew? At least then we can get him home sooner, and securely.” Caroline stood. Of course she must know Drew best of all.

      Drew smiled at her, let go of his reins and lifted George, then leaned over. Caro put down her parasol to receive the sleeping child.

      Yellow suited her colouring. It gave her freshness and made her look younger. She sat, as though George was heavier than she’d expected, and settled him across her lap, cradling his head on her arm.

      When she’d been married she must have had to organise a huge household, the size of John’s probably. The other day Rob had sensed wounded pride within her distress. When she’d left her husband, she’d also left the position of marchioness, with respect and finery to the style that Katherine had, to then become a penniless dependent of her brother. It must have tilted her world upside down.

      Another hard, sudden feeling