The Rake's Rebellious Lady. Anne Herries

she did not wish him or anyone else to suppose that she was hanging out for a title. It was the furthest thing from her mind. At the moment she did not precisely know what she wanted from a husband. He must be an educated gentleman, able to discuss poetry and literature and to appreciate music and art. She thought that he must also have a sense of humour, for she did not think she could bear to be married to someone who was serious all the time.

      For a moment her thoughts turned to Sir Frederick. She smiled at the thought of him giving into the seduction of a helpless puppy, allowing it to inveigle its way in to his good graces. Perhaps he was not as reserved or haughty as he sometimes seemed…and perhaps she did quite like him after all. At the back of her mind the thought hovered that, perhaps if her aunt had not been so very keen to see her marry Sir Frederick, she might have liked him quite a lot…

      The next morning, Caroline had almost forgotten the little incident of the previous evening. She had decided to go to the lending library to take out a book one of her new friends had told her about. She went early, escaping without her maid, though she knew that her aunt would not approve of such behaviour. However, since the library was only a few streets away, she thought that it was quite safe for she would be at home again before her aunt was aware that she had been out.

      It was as she emerged from the library, her parcel of books held by the string the assistant had obligingly tied for her, that she almost bumped into the man she had been thinking about despite her struggle to put him from her mind. He lifted his hat to her, and she could not but admire the way he looked in his dark green riding coat and pale breeches. It would seem that he had been riding earlier, for he still carried his whip. It was impossible to avoid him, so she smiled and wished him good morning.

      ‘You are about early, Miss Holbrook.’ He glanced at her books, a flicker of amusement on his lips as he saw that she had chosen not only a book of poetry, but also a rather lurid gothic novel that was just then causing quite a stir amongst the younger ladies. ‘Ah, I see you have fallen victim to a great piece of nonsense, mistakenly described as excellent stuff.’

      ‘You do not like Ann Radcliffe’s work, sir?’

      ‘I do not find it particularly entertaining,’ Freddie said, ‘though I can see it might appeal to the female mind.’

      Caroline’s eyes glinted with anger. ‘I think you are patronising, sir. The female mind is equally capable of understanding more worthy works of literature, but a novel of this kind is meant for entertainment.’

      ‘Yes, I dare say,’ Freddie said, amused by how easily she had risen to his bait. ‘Personally, I prefer the Marquis de Sade—but that would not be fit reading for a young lady, of course. If you wish to read gothic novels, may I recommend Gregory Lewis’s novel The Monk to you?’

      ‘Had I not already read it, I would have been pleased for you to do so,’ Caroline said, lifting her chin. She suspected that he was teasing her and it brought a hint of defiance to her lovely face. ‘I thought it a little shocking, but it was very well written, did you not think so?’

      ‘Indeed, yes,’ Freddie said and laughed softly, for he had read the hint of challenge in her eyes. She looked just like an angry kitten! ‘Have you not guessed yet that I am teasing you, Miss Holbrook? It is a fault in me. My godmother often takes me to task for levity. She says that, if I were ever to conquer the need for such foolishness, I might become a better man.’

      ‘Yes, of course,’ Caroline said, sheathing her claws. ‘Then may I take it that you have read Mrs Radcliffe’s book The Mysteries of Udolpho?’

      ‘Indeed, I have, some years ago,’ he agreed. ‘I found it the best of her work—though I dare say others are tolerably readable.’

      ‘I have not yet found it on the shelves,’ Caroline said. ‘It seems to be popular still, even though it was published some years ago.’

      ‘Ah, then perhaps I may be of service to you,’ Freddie said. ‘I believe I still own a copy. Allow me to lend it to you, Miss Holbrook…’

      Freddie became aware that she was not attending. Her eyes seemed to be fixed on something behind him, and he turned, taking in the incident instantly, for he saw the young boy being attacked by a group of older boys. Seeing that Caroline was about to plunge recklessly into the path of an oncoming dray wagon, he took hold of her arm, restraining her so violently that she yelped with pain.

      ‘Forgive me,’ he said, ‘but I beg you, leave this to me. Stay here!’

      The instruction was given in such a severe tone that Caroline remained where she was while he crossed the road, dodging between the traffic. She watched as he spoke to the lads, sending them off about their business, and noted that he slipped a coin into the hand of the one that had been attacked.

      ‘What happened?’ she asked as he returned to her. ‘Was he much hurt?’

      ‘It was merely a spat amongst brothers,’ Freddie told her. ‘The boy had lost some money one of the others had given him to buy their supper—nothing for you to be distressed about, Miss Holbrook.’

      ‘You gave him money,’ she said. ‘That was kind of you, sir.’

      ‘It was an easy task.’ He gave her a severe look. ‘May I recommend you to be less impulsive, Miss Holbrook. You could easily have been injured just now.’

      ‘You are good to be concerned for me,’ she replied with a toss of her head. ‘I assure you that I was aware of the wagon and felt that I was quite able to avoid it. I am not one of those fragile young ladies who faint at the slightest thing, sir.’

      ‘Indeed you are not, but your behaviour is sometimes reckless in the extreme,’ he said severely. ‘If I may say so, Miss Holbrook, you are far too pretty to end your life crushed beneath the wheels of a heavy-goods wagon. But before you grow cross with me again, I believe I had just asked if I might lend you a book you wished to read?’

      Caroline hesitated, for he had seemed critical, but her desire to read the novel overcame her pique. ‘Thank you, I should like to read it for it has been recommended to me by a friend.’

      ‘I shall send it round to your aunt’s house,’ Freddie said. ‘In the meantime, may I walk you home?’

      ‘You are kind, sir,’ Caroline replied, ‘but I am but two streets from my home and I dare say you have other things to occupy you.’

      ‘Then perhaps we shall meet again soon.’

      Freddie tipped his hat to her and set off down the street.

      Caroline successfully managed to slip back into the house without being discovered by her aunt, though Mrs Holbrook had been to her room to inquire for her and was a little upset that she had been out alone that morning, even though it was merely to the lending library.

      ‘It will not do for you to visit these places alone in town, my dear,’ she scolded her daughter, though without malice. ‘I am not sure it is safe, for who can tell what might happen to you, dearest? You might be snatched from the street and then I should never see you again.’

      ‘Oh, Mama!’ Caroline laughed. ‘I do assure you that I was quite safe, and the only person I met was Sir Frederick, who had been out riding.’

      ‘Oh, well, I suppose it was perfectly respectable,’ her mother said. ‘But I know that your aunt would not approve, my dear.’

      ‘Aunt Louisa does not approve of anything I do.’

      ‘Caroline!’ Marianne reproved her daughter with a shake of her head, and then sighed. ‘But do you know, I do not believe Louisa approves of much I do either.’

      ‘Oh, Mama!’ Caroline said and went into a fit of giggles for she had never expected to hear her mother say such a thing. ‘Do be careful or she will give us both the most frightful scold.’

      ‘I dare say she may,’ Marianne said. ‘Do you know, I think I shall accompany you this afternoon. You are going to visit some friends, I believe?’