The Secret Love of a Gentleman. Jane Lark
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The words came from above them.
Mary looked upward. Caro did not. Robbie’s voice grated on her nerves.
“I hit it far,” George declared slipping from beneath Caro’s arm to hug his mother instead.
“Clever boy,” Mary praised her son. “Perhaps Uncle Robbie will teach you how to hold the bat yourself in the summer.”
“And I missed this marvellous feat,” Drew said. “You will have to do it again after luncheon so I may see you.”
Robbie stepped closer.
Tremors ran across Caro’s skin and unravelled into her veins. She wished Robbie to move away.
He dropped down to sit on the end of the blanket, near Mary’s feet.
Panic claimed Caro in full force, her chest becoming so tight she could not pull the air into her lungs.
The baby made an impatient sound in Caro’s arms.
“Sorry, she’s fractious, she is hungry, I ought to take her in and feed her.” Mary gave her son another squeeze, then let him go and stood up. “Come along, little one.” She reached down so Caro could pass Iris back.
Robbie’s gaze rested on Caro as she held Iris up.
When Mary walked away, Drew sat down beside Caro and leant back on his hands, stretching out his legs. “You know your mother is taking your absconding personally,” he spoke to Robbie.
Caro’s limbs filled up with the weight of lead and she adjusted her sitting position, bending up her knees within the skirt of her dress and hugging them, as George crawled towards Robbie.
Robbie laughed and his hand ruffled George’s hair. “She is not ready for me to leave the nest. She thinks we are all growing up too fast.”
“I suppose that is my fault, for snatching Mary from it.”
“She does not hold that against you. You have given her more grandchildren in return. It is an exchange. I am just a loss.”
“Shall I tell her to stop henpecking and let you fledge?”
Drew was joking. He was close to Mary’s and Robbie’s parents. They were his parents too—because theirs had never fulfilled that role.
“Papa spoke to her. He supports me. He knows I cannot live on his estate, there is nothing for me to do there.”
When Caro had first come to the Duke’s home Robbie had been eighteen. He’d smiled and laughed frequently, but as a man he seemed more serious than the others. Most of his cousins had no interest in the children, his peers within the family always kept to their own group, but Robbie never stood with them. Yet his younger brother, Harry, did. Drew at his age had been wild, playing with danger, fighting everyone and everything.
“Of course you cannot, if you wish to sow a few wild oats?” Drew added.
“Not my style,” Robbie answered.
Drew’s face split into a broad smile, “So your brother told me.”
“Harry?”
“Harry…” They laughed again. Caro did not know the joke.
“Well, you may tell Harry to mind his own business, not mine,” Rob said, with a smile.
“But younger brothers are born to be a thorn in the side. Mary and I are working on one for George solely for that purpose”
“I have never been a thorn in John’s. He’d win whatever argument I started with a simple glance.”
“True, your older brother does have a way of making a man feel as small as a mouse. I ignore it.”
“I do not risk it. I never give him cause to deploy that look on me.”
Another laugh was shared between them as George scrambled back across the blanket to Drew, then began using his father as a climbing frame. He clambered up Drew’s back and then tumbled over Drew’s shoulder. George’s legs flew out towards Robbie.
Robbie reached to catch him and slow his fall.
Caro instinctively leant back.
Robbie and Drew looked at her, but Robbie did not move back, instead he shifted forward on to his knees, leaned over and tickled George’s tummy, making him giggle.
It left Caro sitting two feet away from him.
When Robbie stopped tickling, George crawled to her, to escape his uncle, still giggling.
The attention of both men followed George. Heat burned in Caro’s cheeks as the rhythm of her heartbeat rose. She pulled George onto her lap and hugged him, perhaps a little too tightly, but it helped relieve her discomfort.
“I am sorry I missed you yesterday, Caroline.”
Robbie was being polite, nothing else, but yet again her senses revolted. He knew she’d avoided him on purpose.
“Caro,” Drew prompted, when she did not answer, as though she was a child to be corrected.
Her gaze lifted to Robbie’s eyes. They were blue, but a much darker blue than Mary’s.
Caro had never spoken to him before, never been this close to him. He did not have the imposing presence of his elder ducal brother, his body was relaxed and his appearance therefore more approachable as he smiled at her. But he was still a man, even though he was young and behaved with good manners, and she was still uncomfortable with him so near.
He leaned sideways, resting his weight onto one hand. His shirtsleeves were rolled up and she could see his forearm covered in a dusting of dark hair.
George broke free from her embrace. “Papa, I need the pot,” he declared with extreme urgency. He always waited until the last moment.
“I’ll take him.” Caroline moved to rise, but Drew pressed a hand on her shoulder as he did.
“You stay here, I’ll take him.” He rose.
She knew what Drew was doing—he was forcing her to endure Robbie’s company. He’d expressed his view over her “flighty nature” dozens of times and he was never cruel about it, but he’d insisted often that she should try harder to overcome it. He was stubborn.
“I will do my best not to discompose you when I stay at Drew’s.”
Caro’s gaze spun back to Robbie. Every one of her senses screamed.
Robbie had a physical energy about him, an aura that said he was an active man and he was athletic in build.
“I… I…” Her gaze turned to where his elder female cousins sat a little way away. They had their husbands beside them.
She had never felt more desolate.
The tears which threatened caught in her throat as she clutched her knees, holding them close, clinging to herself as if she were driftwood on a swirling sea.
A family group the other side of them laughed. Caro unfurled and rose instantly. She could not do this. She turned and began walking, uncertain where she was going, but knowing she could not stay there.
“Caroline.” her name was spoken quietly. Robbie had followed. She glanced back, her gaze apologising. It was not his fault. He’d done nothing wrong.
But then she turned away and fled, striding across the lawn in the direction that Drew had taken.
She had truly cast herself a gaol cell.
~
Rob was torn. Should I chase after her? He’d said nothing wrong and yet guilt gripped in his chest. Caroline had braved his company and he’d scared her off.
He cursed himself as he watched her ascend the shallow flight of stairs leading to the stone terrace and then disappear into the house, a phantom again.
He’d