"There
she is again."
Despite her best intentions, Lady Caroline Fleming turned
her head and stared. Drury Lane was full tonight, the tier of gilded boxes
packed with the great and the good. It was the height of the Season, and
all society seemed to be here. The air hummed with their voices, exchanging
gossip, information, and scandal. Jewels glittered everywhere; glass on
the stage where the actors were struggling valiantly to make themselves
heard over the hubbub, expensive gems everywhere else. Caro should have
felt at home, in a new cream silk embroidered expensively and frivolously
with scattered flowers, pearls and diamonds embellishing the effect.
But she didn't.
The beautiful stranger was talking to George. Hastily
Caro looked away again, tears starting up in her eyes. She usually enjoyed
visiting the theatre, but just recently public places had become a trial.
Whenever they came here, or to Vauxhall, or Ranelagh, or any of the other
fashionable places, there she was. And George never introduced them, indeed,
seemed anxious to keep them apart. She hadn't mentioned the woman
to him, hoping it was just a coincidence, but it had happened too many
times now.
"It doesn't matter," she said, trying to
keep her voice steady.
Her best friend Mary put a hand over hers. "You're
very brave, dear," she said quietly. "It happens to all of us,
sooner or later. I'm so sorry!"
Caro glanced down at her lap. "Yes," she said
quietly. Then she put her head up and stared defiantly about her. Nobody
would see how upset she was!
With a practised gesture Caro flicked open her fan and
turned determinedly to Mary, smiling as though she was having a wonderful
time. "Why does he do it?" she demanded. "We've only
been married for six months, and he said he loved me!"
"He probably does," Mary replied, her powdered
curls brushing her shoulders as she turned her head towards her friend.
"Men are different, dear!"
Caro could hardly tell Mary about the first night of her
marriage, when he had loved her so passionately, declared that she was
the only woman for him, but the remembrance went through her slender body
like a pang. He was throwing it all in her face, now. He lied; he was
as false as all the others!
"Anyway, it might be a flirtation," Mary said,
seeing how upset her friend was. "Some men like to flirt."
Under the cover of the edge of the box, Mary gripped her
friend's hand tightly for courage, and lifted her opera glasses.
Seen closer, Caro was forced to admit that the woman was
lovely. Her golden hair glinted through the thin layer of powder, her
blue eyes shone bright and clear from a youthful face. When she smiled
at George, her face took on an enchanting elfin look. She was exquisite.
The first act concluded, George took the lady's hand
and led her away.
Suddenly, Caro couldn't stand it any more and stood
up with a rustle of silk skirts. "I'm going home," she
said abruptly.
She hadn't heard him get to his feet, but facing
her was the handsomest, most dangerous man in all London. Richard Kerre,
Lord Strang, golden and exquisite, had joined Caro's coterie of admirers,
but only after she was safely married. Lord Strang, it was well known,
did not intend to be caught in matrimony. He was a predator, elegantly
and exquisitely attired in lilac brocade, but a leopard, even if covered
with a layer of expensive affluence, is a leopard for all that. Caro held
out her hand and his lordship bent over it gracefully. "I'm
sorry, I didn't mean to distress you."
"No, no, it's all right, "Caro stammered,
trying desperately to regain her usual calm. "I don't feel well,
that's all!"
"I think you need some air," he said. "Come
and walk outside for a while--you'll soon feel yourself again!"
Grateful for the attention, hurt by her husband's
betrayal, Caro accepted. It was perfectly proper, but by the look in his
eyes, the slight smile quirking the corner of his mouth, she knew he meant
more than that. Some discreet flirtation might take her mind off things,
make her feel wanted again.
Outside the corridor was nearly deserted, only a few people
promenading the broad, well-lit corridor.
"I-I can't think what came over me!" Caro
said, in a vain attempt at lightness.
"I know," he said, his soft voice deliberately
soothing. "I've noticed it too."
Caro drew herself up to her full height, her soft brown
eyes meeting the brilliance of Strang's blue ones fearlessly. "I
can't think what you mean sir," she said, fully on her dignity.
"Yes you do," said Lord Strang. "It didn't
take your estimable husband very long, did it?" His mouth firmed
in a straight line.
Caro stared at him, aghast. "Is it so obvious?"
He shook his head slightly. "Only if one is watching
very closely."
Caro withdrew her hand from his. She had only just noticed
he was still holding it. There was no point denying it, and if Lord Strang
had noticed, then it must be true. He had more experience than the rest
of London put together. She turned her face away. "It happens,"
she said, unable to keep to the misery from her voice.
"The man's a fool!" said his lordship.
"Why stray, when you have such a delectable wife you can call your
own?"
Did she imagine it, or did Caro detect a note of wistfulness
in his voice? Her own troubles temporarily forgotten, she glanced at him
and it seemed to her his expression did seem a trifle sad. He looked back
at her and smiled, his air of melancholy totally dispelled, replaced by
warm interest.
Many married ladies would have been delighted to be considered
as Lord Strang's latest flirt. He chose the most amusing, the most
attractive women as his companions, and they rarely refused. When he held
out his arm again, Caro placed her own on it, feeling the heavy brocade
of his fashionable, expensive coat under her hand.
"Don't repine," he said softly. "It
happens to most women, sooner or later. That's what men like me are
here for."
"I know," she said miserably. "I just never
thought George would succumb so quickly or so easily."
Strang smiled, looking at Caro with a warmth she wished
her husband would show. His eyes seemed to glow when they looked at her,
and despite her unhappiness Caro basked in his admiration. It was consoling
to know that she was still attractive to someone.
"Come on," he said quietly, and pushed open
a door. It wasn't the door to their box. Her heart in her mouth,
Caro followed him inside.
It was a small room, furnished with a large couch. On
a side table stood a decanter and several glasses. Caro knew that many
establishments had such rooms, but she had never needed them before. Ostensibly
they were there to provide a quiet place for patrons to rest, but were
more often used for clandestine assignations.
Caro was relieved to see that his lordship did not turn
the key in the lock. She sat down, while he went over to the table and
put them both a glass of wine. He brought them to her and sat down, one
arm stretched across the back of the couch.
"I have never thought of George's as foolish
before," he said, "but I think he's behaving extremely
foolishly now."
Caro looked up at him, her dark eyes swimming in tears.
Putting the glass to her lips, she swallowed fully half the generous measure
he poured for her, swallowing her tears back at the same time. She had
her pride, and no one would see her cry. "It happens," she said.
"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."
"But it's made you very unhappy," said
Lord Strang.
Caro looked at him in some surprise. This did not sound
like seduction. His lordship had the reputation of being a superb lover,
but this approach was tactless, to say the least. "This happens to
every woman--I shall just have to learn to cope with it!" she said,
her voice rising with her distress. She finished her drink.
Lord Strang took the glass from her and turned round to
put that and his own, still half full, on the side table. Then he turned
back to her, reached out and took one hand in his. This was more like
it. "You know," he said, his soft voice like velvet on her spine,
"I would hate to be the cause of suffering between husband and wife.
Especially one who has been such a good friend as George." He looked
up at her. A small smile curved his lips.
"Well, George began it," she said, defiantly.
"So I will continue it."
She drew him towards her, and reached out to press her
lips against his. At once his lordship's arms went around her, but
when her mouth quivered against his, he pulled away and drew her head
down to his shoulder.
The tears she had been fighting all day came, scalding
and bitter. His lordship's embrace became less lover like, more soothing.
Who would have thought she could have found comfort here?
The door opened suddenly, and Caro pulled away, but it
was too late. Through tear blurred eyes she stared at her husband.
And that woman.
Lord Strang was the only one to retain his sang-froid.
George flashed, then grew pale, as he demanded, "What is this?"
"What does it look like?" asked Lord Strang,
his voice dangerously quiet.
Regaining his senses, George pulled the woman inside the
room and closed the door. "Your seconds, sir?" he said tersely.
Strang put Caro gently aside and got to his feet. "Don't
be a fool George!" he said. "I have no intention of meeting
you."
"You will give me satisfaction sir!" George
demanded. He stood perfectly still and when he looked at Caro she could
see the hurt in his dark eyes. Her heart sank. How could she think this
was right? How could she lower her morals to his, instead of confronting
him with his sin?
"I think you should give some of that satisfaction
to your wife," said Lord Strang. "I was merely comforting an
extremely distressed woman. You should know me better than that, George!"
The two men stared at each other for a moment. George
swallowed. "Then what am I to make of this?"
His lordship went over to the table, picking up his glass.
"The same as your wife has been thinking about you and Miss Lloyd,
perhaps." He took a sip, but kept his gaze on George.
Sudden understanding lit George's face. He looked
from Lord Strang to his wife and then back again, biting his lip as he
thought. Then he looked at Caro again. "You didn't think…?
Oh, Caro!"
All the resentment and unhappiness of the past week suddenly
poured out of her. "You've not spent more time with me than
you needed to, and your excuses have become more and more feeble. Six
months, George! And you said you loved me, you said nothing mattered but
that! Why couldn't you be honest with me? You didn't want me,
you wanted my fortune, didn't you?"
George just stared at her. Lord Strang broke the silence.
"Well? Don't you think you should tell her?"
Silence fell, broken only by the crackle of the fire.
Miss Lloyd turned and touched George's arm. "Tell her,"
she said.
"Are you sure?" asked George. Caro heard the
softness in his voice, previously reserved only for her, and felt sick.
Lord Strang set his glass down, empty. He crossed the
room, and held out his arm to Miss Lloyd. "May I escort you back
to your box?
Shyly, she put her hand on his arm. His lordship looked
at George gravely. "You should trust her," he said. "The
next time you might lose her." With a charming smile at his new companion
he opened the door and they left.
Caro momentarily closed her eyes and then opened them
again. Her husband was staring at her, new understanding dawning on his
face. "You thought--?"
"What else was there to think?" she said bitterly.
"What else is there to think?"
George crossed the room and stood before her, looking
down at her so gently she nearly burst into tears again. "I'm
sorry," he said simply. "It's not what you think, truly
it isn't!" Caro watched him, knowing he needed to take his time.
"Miss Lloyd is my sister."
Dizzy, confused, Caro said nothing. She was beyond speech,
still not believing him, that desperate for this chance. George moved
to the table, poured himself a drink, and brought it to down next to her.
He didn't touch her.
"It was Strang who found out," he said. "He
went to stay with the Lloyds last year--I think Mrs. Lloyd was trying
to snag him for her daughter--and he came across something which made
him wonder. When he investigated a little further it all became clear."
He took a deep swallow of his drink. "You do know that before I met
you, my name was linked with Miss Lloyd's?"
Numbly, Caro nodded. "I knew it was the time I married,
and I liked her, but Strang deliberately cut me out. I nearly called him
out for that." He looked at her and grinned. It was so much like
their previous understanding Caro nearly smiled back. "In fact I
did start a quarrel, but he wouldn't take me up on it. Then he took
me aside and told me the truth. I didn't believe it at first--it
seems so incredible, but once I thought about it I could see the truth.
It must have happened just after my mother died, so my father was looking
for comfort somewhere."
At last, Caro found her voice. "Couldn't it
have been Mr. Lloyd?"
George shook his head regretfully. "He was abroad
at the time. Of course the whole thing was hushed up, and Angela Lloyd's
legitimacy has never been in question, but when I showed an interest,
Strang discovered the truth and headed me off."
Shyly, Caro reached out her hand and put it in his. "How
did he find out?"
George shrugged. "Sometimes I think he knows everyone's
secrets," he said. "He certainly has a way of finding them out!"
"Why didn't you tell me before?" she whispered.
George gazed down at her hand, now resting in his. His
thumb moved in a caressing gesture across the palm. "Her mother made
me promise not to tell," he said. "It wasn't my secret.
And the more I tried to tell you everything was all right, the worse it
got!"
"Oh, George!" Caro cried and threw herself into
his arms. He held her tight and they stayed like that for several minutes,
not speaking, only enjoying each other's closeness. "There's
only you, there's only ever been you!" he whispered. "The
moment I saw you I loved you!" He drew back and kissed her, gently
at first, but when he felt her response he deepened the kiss to passionate
and demanding. Caro knew she had come home.
After seeing Miss Lloyd back to her box, Lord Strang strolled
slowly back to his own. He sat down next to his brother Gervase. Gervase's
glanced at him, one eyebrow quizzically raised. "I forced the issue,"
Strang told him. "I don't think we'll be seeing George
and Caro Fleming for a few days."
"I thought you were up to something," said Gervase.
Lord Strang turned a cold, quizzical face to him. The blue gaze was totally
guileless. "Now why would you think that, Gervase?" his lordship
said gently.
"You're better than you think, Richard,"
said Gervase, not at all put out by his brother's chilly hauteur.
"One day you'll come to realise that."
"Maybe I will," Richard Kerre said thoughtfully.
"But I doubt it."
