Nevertheless, if she had to be stuck with him for the journey to France—she would not go farther than that—maybe he wouldn’t be so bad to travel with. If they were lucky, news of their “betrothal” would not become widely known, and she wouldn’t have to jilt him.
Five years ago, while traveling to Venice, Caro had decided she’d never marry, not for any reason. Nothing had happened in the intervening years to change her mind. She couldn’t bear the thought of a man’s hands on her again.
She was becoming uncomfortable under his scrutiny, but kept her eyes mostly closed so that he would not know she was awake. She speculated about where they were. As if he heard her, he shifted his gaze outside.
“We should be past Vicenza.” He reached under his seat. “Would you like to play chess or continue sleeping?”
Caro started to stretch and stopped. She glanced at him sharply. He’d known she was awake. Huntley focused on the box he’d taken out.
“I’ll play chess.”
The corners of his lips lifted. “Good.”
He was an excellent player, but so was she. Caro was ahead by one game when the coach stopped abruptly, tumbling the chess pieces to the floor.
She glanced out the window but could see nothing. “What is it?”
Huntley frowned, but his voice remained composed. “Let’s find out.”
He knocked on the roof.
Dalle answered. “It’s just traffic, my lord. We’ve entered Verona.”
She remembered the chess pieces and bent down to help retrieve them at the same moment as did Huntley. Their heads bumped. “
Ow
. You have a hard head.”
He rubbed his forehead. “So do you.”
Caro grinned. “So I’ve been told. You are now forewarned, my lord.”
He returned some of the pieces to the box. “Indeed.” He pointed to her hat on a shelf above the seat. “At least I didn’t get poked in the eye by a feather.”
She gazed at the chip hat with the large plumed feather that caressed her cheek when she wore it. It was nice he was able to joke at a time like this. She was surprised she could feel . . . comfortable with him, even in a closed carriage. She grinned. “I doubt that could poke anything.”
His eyes twinkled and were suddenly green. “No, probably not.”
Some few minutes later, they turned into a large coaching inn and came to a stop. Huntley jumped out before the steps could be let down, and strode into the building.
Caro started to rise, but Nugent placed a restraining hand on her arm. “Wait until he gets back, my lady. Dalle and the coachman haven’t got down yet, and his lordship wouldn’t have left like that if he wasn’t checking on something.”
Caro bit her lip. “Yes, of course, you’re right.”
She had experience running and should have thought of it. What would Huntley do if the marchese were to find them? Probably something stupid, such as fight a duel with di Venier without a thought of what would happen to her if he died.
Huntley returned and signaled to one of the inn’s ostlers to let down the steps of the coach. He took Caro’s hand as she stepped down. “I hope you don’t mind, I’ve made arrangements for your servants to have refreshment and a private parlor for us.”
Nugent poked her head out of the carriage. “Very kind of you, my lord.”
Caro glanced up at him. “Thank you, your preparations suit.”
Huntley bowed slightly. “Maufe is here and has organized a chamber for you to refresh yourself. He has also ordered a meal.”
She grinned. “It was actually Maufe that thought of it all?”
A smile played around his lips. “Under my direction, of course.”
Suddenly all the tension drained from her. Caro would have laughed, but she didn’t want to encourage him. “Naturally.”
He took her arm. “Would you like to take a stroll before we resume our journey?”
She glanced up. “Yes, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Well,” he said confidingly, “since Maufe insisted on staying only a little ahead of us, I’m not as concerned we’ll be separated from the other carriage.” A rueful look came into his eyes. “I’ve also forgotten how hard it is to be cooped up for long stretches. I don’t think I could do the next leg without a good walk.”
Caro agreed wholeheartedly. The last four hours had passed pleasantly enough, but if she were to withstand another four, she’d need the exercise as well. Perhaps they could find some indication of Shakespeare’s play
Romeo and Juliet
that had purportedly taken place in Verona. “We can take in a few of the sights. Not for long, but just to see them.”
He glanced briefly at her. “
Romeo and Juliet
?”
How did he guess?
She tried to tamp down the blush that was rising. “I doubt there is any evidence they were real, though I understand the cathedral is beautiful.”
He’d escorted her through the entrance and they’d reached the top of the broad staircase. Nugent waited at a door down the corridor and Caro turned to Huntley. “I won’t be long.”
“Take as much time as you like.”
“Thank you.” She joined Nugent and rushed through her ablutions. If they were to eat and take in any of the sights, she’d need to hurry. Gentlemen were as fickle as spring weather. She had no dependence he wouldn’t change his mind and want to start again soon.
Huntley waited in the corridor for her and escorted her back down the stairs to a small parlor at the front of the inn.
Maufe bowed. “My lady, my lord, I shall have you served directly.”
Caro inclined her head. “Thank you, Maufe. I don’t know what we would do without you.”
He bowed again, with a pleased expression. “My lady, Miss Nugent asked that your jewel box remain in here. I will watch over it when you take your walk.”
Caro gave him a small smile. “You are worth your weight in gold.”
“He’ll be asking for a raise next.” Huntley’s brows drew together. “I already pay him more than I should.”
At first she thought he was serious, then his eyes twinkled. “You, my lord, are a fraud.”
“Yes.” His lips tilted up. “Don’t tell Maufe.”
After a large meal, Huntley and Caro spent an hour or so walking through the ancient city and touring the Basilica di San Zeno. As they were admiring the church’s ornate black ceiling, a familiar English voice intruded. Huntley turned and stifled a curse. The prelate, bear-leading a young man around the church, was his cousin.
Before he could find a place to hide, the prelate turned. “Huntley, is that you?”
He was in the process of drawing Caro back behind him when he realized how odd it would look. Instead he kept her close to his side. The closest she’d ever been to him. He held out his hand. “Everard, you’re the last person I expected to see here.”
His cousin glanced at Caro.
Huntley patted her hand, now clutched so tightly to his jacket sleeve that his valet would never get the wrinkles out. “Lady Caroline Martindale, may I present the Right Reverend Bishop Everard Wingate, my cousin?”
Caroline smiled politely and curtseyed.
Her grip, however, tightened even more.
He smiled at his cousin. “Everard, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in Canterbury or someplace?”
His inquisitive round face split into a broad smile. “I decided I needed to travel, and Jonathan, here . . . Oh, this is Lord Jonathan Bearing, the Duke of Northly’s second son. In any event, he needed someone to take him on a Grand Tour. The family has him pegged for a job in the foreign office.”
“Well, we’re glad to have run into you.” He took a breath. “Where are you staying?”
Everard joined them as they continued their tour. “At the posting house near the old south gate. We only have a day here, after which we’ll to go Venice.” He turned to Caro. “Are you enjoying yourself, my dear?”
Ever since Everard had greeted them, her face had been steadily losing color and she was leaning more heavily on his arm. This was disastrous. He should have known better than to walk with her around the town.
Caro blinked. “Yes, indeed I am. Lord Huntley, we should probably be getting back.”
He calculated the odds of his cousin allowing them to walk off without him. They weren’t good. “Everard, we’d love to stay and visit, but we are traveling north and must be going.”
Everard beamed. “It has been a long time since we’ve had a chance to catch up. Lord Jonathan and I shall be happy to escort you back to your inn.”
Huntley stifled a groan and smiled politely. “Thank you. We’d be pleased for your company.”
Caro threw him an anguished look, but there was nothing they could do. The worst of it was that Everard would have to be told the reason for their flight. He kept his voice to a whisper. “Do you want to be there when I tell him?”
She closed her eyes for a moment before answering. “Yes, I’m fine now. I’m not a coward.”
“I never thought you were.” He was so close he could smell her hair. Sunlight and fresh air. Unhelpfully, his body hardened.
Maufe was in the parlor with Nugent when the four of them entered the inn. Both servants turned startled faces toward Huntley. “Prepare to get under way. We’ll be ready to leave soon.”
Everard patted Lord Jonathan on the back. “Why don’t you go into the tap for a bit? I’ll come to get you when we’re done.”
The young man glanced at them curiously but bowed and did as he was told.
Maufe halted for a second as he passed by Huntley. “We won’t be far, my lord. Everything else is arranged.”
Nugent followed in his wake, closing the door behind her.
Before turning to his cousin, Huntley led Caro to a chair and took up his place behind it. “Everard, I imagine you’d like to know just what is going on.”
CHAPTER 5
E
verard glanced at Caro, then back to Huntley. “I don’t wish to intrude, but there are several English visitors here at the moment. It would helpful if I were told the truth, or whatever story you’ve set about.”
Huntley gritted his teeth. If that was the case, they needed to leave as soon as possible.
Caro dropped her head into her hands. “I knew we’d never get away with it. My luck isn’t that good.”
“No one has seen us yet.” Huntley placed a hand on her shoulder, hard as rock with the tension, and addressed his cousin. “What do you know about my trip here?”
Frowning slightly, Everard dropped into a chair. “Just that you were to have visited Lady Horatia for a while before traveling on.”
“Yes—well, my plans have undergone a slight change.” Huntley rubbed his cheek. When it came to the foibles of his fellow man, his cousin had always been the most understanding of his relatives. “Lady Caroline has been living with my aunt Horatia for several years. Lately, the grandson of Duca di Venier returned to Venice and has been trying to—” Huntley glanced down at her. “The marchese decided he wanted to marry her. Whether she wanted him or not.”
As succinctly as possible, Huntley recounted the events that caused Caro and him to flee Venice. He’d never seen Everard’s eyes flash with anger as they did when Huntley told his cousin about the murder of the young novice. Caro sat quietly with her hands folded in her lap while Huntley recounted the duke’s offer of marriage to his grandson, and Horatia’s desperate attempt to keep Caro out of the marchese’s hands by declaring that Huntley and Caro were betrothed.
His cousin remained silent for several moments. “I’d advise you to leave here immediately. Lady Bentley is staying at this inn. A bigger gossip I’ve yet to meet and, to make it worse, she seems to be everywhere I am.” He grimaced. “I’ve been attempting to avoid her as she’s made it clear she has a wish to re-marry.”
The idea of the woman bearing tales about Huntley and Caro caused him no little concern, but the vision of his discreet cousin being hunted by a tattling widow made Huntley give a short laugh. “You?”
Everard’s already pink complexion deepened to a rich red. “It’s not a matter for humor.”
The situation gave Huntley an idea. “If Caro and I leave immediately, perhaps your presence will distract her from us.”
Under his hand, Caro’s shoulders dropped as her tension eased.
Yet the next moment, pounding hooves and shouts from the carriage yard destroyed the relative silence of the room.
“Oh no.” She grabbed his hand. “Di Venier is here. I recognize his voice.”
The devil must have set out early and on horseback.
Huntley brought her to her feet, holding her tightly against him. “Caro, you are safe. Di Venier cannot hurt you while I’m here. I won’t let him.”
“Nor will I, my dear,” Everard said as he patted her back.
“Follow my lead and try to calm yourself. I will not allow him to harm you. Look at me.” Caro trembled like a blancmange, but her color was still good. He hoped she wouldn’t swoon.
She glanced up, and he captured her gaze. “I’m here to protect you. Tell me you understand.”
Caro swallowed. “Yes, I understand. I’m not afraid.”
He shifted slightly so his back was to the door and she was shielded from sight. Bending toward her, he tilted her chin up, forcing her to once more meet his gaze. Di Venier’s angry voice echoed down the corridor.
Huntley whispered, “The marchese will be here in a moment. I’m going to place my lips very close to yours, but I won’t kiss you. Ready?”
“Yes,” she said, so quietly he may not have actually heard it.
The door swung open, crashing against the wall before bouncing back. Di Venier’s voice was full of rage. “Where is Lady Caroline?”
Huntley turned. Before he could open his mouth to reply, his cousin drew himself up and, with all the authority of a bishop of the English church, said, “I suppose you are referring to the Countess of Huntley.”
Caro’s knees buckled. Huntley grabbed her waist. Everard sidled close to them and pressed a ring against Huntley’s hand.
Huntley took Caro’s left hand, sliding the ring on her finger. “I’m sorry.”
“
Contessa?
” di Venier roared. “What do you mean? When?”
Everard’s usually jovial countenance maintained the haughty dignity of his ecclesiastic rank. “I completed the ceremony not long before you came so rudely through the door.” He flicked a hand in dismissal. “Now, sir, you may leave us.”
Di Venier’s face blackened. “
You?
Who are
you
to tell
me
what to do?”
Everard was giving the Marchese di Venier his full title and honors when a well-bred English female voice intruded and said sweetly, “Oh, there you are, Bishop. I’ve been looking for you.”
Everard smiled and bowed. “Lady Bentley, how are you today?”
“Quite well, thank you.” She craned her short neck for a better look into the room. “If you don’t mind my asking, what is going on? Your voices can be heard all over the building.”
Di Venier turned and stared at Lady Bentley. “This man is truly a bishop?”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh my, yes. Of course he is. Why in the world would I address him as such, if he were not?” She squinted and once more gave the room her attention. “Who has got married?”
The marchese swung back around and glared at Caro. “You could have lived the life of a princess. I would have worshiped you. Enjoy your
Englishman
. . . while you can.” With lowered brows, he flashed an angry look at Huntley and growled, “This is not over.”
Lady Bentley’s mouth gaped open as di Venier stalked out of the room.
Everard hurried to her and, in a soft voice, said, “My lady, excuse us. I’ll see you later perhaps.”
Shutting her mouth, she curtseyed. “Yes, yes, of course
. Countess of Huntley
. Who is . . .? Oh yes, Huntingdon’s eldest son.”
Before Everard closed the door, he called to Maufe and spoke in low tones.
Huntley turned back to Caro and urged her to sit, pressing a glass of wine into her hands.
She stared up at him, eyes wide and her lush lips slightly parted. “This goes from bad to worse. The scandal . . .”
“Here, drink some of this.”
When Caro had taken a few sips, he took the glass, and she hid her face in her hands again.
A short while later, Maufe returned with a small book and a long shawl. He handed them to Everard and left.
Everard joined them at the table. “I’m sorry, my child,” he said, his tone low and calm. “It was, I believed, necessary to protect you from that violent young man.”
Taking in the prayer book, Huntley closed his eyes for a moment. Any hope he’d retained that he and Caro would not be forced into a marriage died. “I take it you mean to perform the ceremony?”
His cousin nodded. “I must. There’s no choice. Lady Bentley heard what I told your marchese, and she’ll spread it to all her friends. Some of them are bound to have seen Lady Caro, and the news will quickly make its way back to England.”
“Give us a few minutes, if you would.” Myriad thoughts ran through Huntley’s mind, chief of which was what his father would say about this harum-scarum marriage, but the shock in Caro’s eyes trumped all concerns about the old gentleman.
Everard went to the door. “I’ll be right outside. Huntley, I need to have a few words in private with you before we begin.”
When Caro gazed up at him, her face was still pale. Tears glistened, and her beautiful turquoise eyes darkened in despair.
She shook her head. “You can’t marry me. It would be a disaster for you.”
His jaw clenched. Now was not the time for her to turn missish. “I must. It’s the only way I can protect you, your reputation and mine.”
“Huntley, you don’t understand.” She closed her eyes and her voice shook. “You’ll need an heir, and I—I can’t do . . .”
He dropped to one knee next to her, taking her cold, fluttering fingers in his. “Other than wed me, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I will never,
never
force you.”
Lord, he wanted to take her in his arms, but he made himself be content with holding her hands. He prayed silently she could see the truth in his eyes.
She shook her head slowly. “You need an heir.”
He forced himself to smile. “I have a younger brother.”
“Oh, it’s impossible.” Caro stared at a place beyond his shoulder, ignoring the tears rolling down her cheeks. “I have no reputation to protect. I’m—I’m not a virgin.”
He took out his handkerchief and dabbed her eyes. “But no one knows, so you do have a name to worry about.”
“What about you?”
“That’s not important to me. Caro, please, look at me.” Now he knew what had happened, and it all made sense. Her anger and unwillingness to allow a man to touch her, her determination not to marry. Some blackguard had raped her. Rage for her burbled up inside, and he pushed it back down. The time to avenge her was later. Now he needed to safeguard her as best as he could. When she met his gaze, the pain in her eyes broke his heart. “The only thing that matters is to keep you safe, from Venetian marcheses and from Polite Society. We’ll work the rest out in our own way.”
“But you don’t want to marry.”
Huntley gave thanks he hadn’t made his intentions known and tried to keep his countenance neutral. “It wasn’t what I’d planned, but must needs.”
She closed her eyes. “I really have no choice, do I?”
Her voice was so small his throat ached.
“No. Neither of us does.” He firmed his voice and prayed a reminder of her breeding would overcome her dread. “We were both raised to do what is necessary, my lady.”
Caro swallowed and nodded.
Once she had herself under control, he stood. “Give me a moment. There is one last thing I must attend to.”
He went to a small desk situated between the windows. Pulling out a drawer, he found paper, ink, and a pen that needed sharpening. After he’d trimmed the nib, Huntley sat down and started to write.
Caro came up behind him. “What are you doing?”
“Drafting our marriage settlements. I have some funds of my own and a house. I cannot, of course, commit my father, but I can make provisions for you from what I have and enable you to keep your property.”
“You’d do that?” Her tone reflected the shock in her countenance. “Without even knowing what I possess?”
He grinned ruefully. “I know you have an independence and a fair amount of jewelry.”
“Most men would never . . .”
He glanced over his shoulder at her. “I strive not to be accused of being old-fashioned.”
By the time he’d finished with the document and stood, Caro had turned away and was standing by the window. “Come read this. If you agree with it, we’ll have it witnessed.”
He left her reviewing the document and went into the corridor. “Everard, we’ll be ready in a few minutes. What did you wish to speak with me about?”
“I am truly sorry,” Everard said. “I just couldn’t think of anything else to say.”
Huntley stifled a groan. The devil take all well-meaning people, his aunt and cousin included. Yet what was done was done, and there was no undoing it. “I understand. If that is all?”
He turned to go. Everard’s hand stayed him. “No, what I want to say is that even if this is not what you wanted, you must try to make it work. You seem comfortable in each other’s company. Many marriages do not even start with that. There is nothing stopping you from having a full and possibly loving life.”
A loving marriage with a woman who wouldn’t allow him to touch her except in the most cursory fashion? Not likely. Yet she’d begun to trust him. Putting a smile on his face, Huntley nodded. “Thank you for your words of wisdom. We’ll do our best. Right now, we need to proceed on our journey. I don’t trust the marchese. He’s bound to return.”
“I don’t suppose you have a ring handy?”
He didn’t have time to buy one now. “No.”
“No matter.” Everard smiled. “Use the one I gave her. I can always buy my sister another one.”
Huntley squeezed his cousin’s arm. “Thank you.”
He called to Nugent and Maufe, who were speaking in low tones down the corridor. Huntley waited until they were next to him and spoke quietly. “Lady Caro and I shall marry in a few minutes. You must both act as witnesses.”
The servants were too well trained to betray their surprise, but Nugent studied him for a few moments as if trying to decide whether he was worthy of her mistress. At last, she gave a brisk nod. “I’ll get her ready.”
He and Maufe reentered the room with Everard, and a short time later, Nugent returned carrying a bowl of water and a cloth.
“Come, my lady, we can’t have you looking so down in the mouth.” Nugent dipped the linen in water. “Let’s clean up your face.”
Caro’s maid pressed the cloth to his bride’s red eyes. It would take more than cold water to make Caro feel better. Wouldn’t Huntley’s friends laugh to see him now? On second thought, they’d not. Every last one of them would help him hunt down and kill di Venier.
He touched the paper on the desk. “Do you agree to this?”
Dry-eyed and resolute, she responded, “Yes, it’s very generous.”
He reached out to touch her cheek. She flinched, and he dropped his hand.
Damn
. Unfortunately, there was no time to deal with her fears now.
He tried to keep his tone even. “Sign it, and we’ll have it witnessed. Everard, I want to do all I can to make sure my father adheres to this contract.”
His cousin nodded. “I will do everything I am able to ensure your father accepts the settlements.”
Once the document was signed, Maufe and Nugent worked on making copies.