“What a horrid man.” Mama pressed forward to kiss Caro on the cheek. “I’m so sorry he caused a scene, my dear. Especially when you wished to share such happy news. We should have known when the two of you didn’t come back after the interval that Lord Wrackham was unable to hold back his feelings any longer. I told you his invitation wasn’t as innocent as you thought.”
“Indeed, you have seen through me, ma’am,” Val said, stepping up beside Caro and slipping her arm through his. “I had thought to save my proposal for a more romantic occasion, but when she fell literally into my arms, I could not let the occasion pass without declaring myself. I was only lucky that Caroline decided to put me out of my misery and make me the happiest of men.”
“I speak the truth, my lord,” Caro said, smiling slyly at his outrageous words, “when I say that it has long been my fondest wish to put you out of your misery.”
Her betrothed was suddenly seized by a coughing fit that sounded suspiciously like laughter.
“You should see a physician about that cough, my lord,” said her mother with concern. “We want you to be in your finest fettle for the wedding.”
When he’d recovered himself, Val said with a suspiciously sincere tone, “Ma’am, I can assure you, I will only ever endeavor to show your daughter my finest fettle.”
Mama seemed satisfied with that nonsensical statement, but Caro had had enough. Once her mother had turned to speak with the duke and duchess, she gave Val a none-too-gentle elbow to the ribs.
“Stop that,” she said in a low voice.
“But, beloved”—he patted her hand—“I have it on the highest authority that my fettle is among the best in London. Modesty keeps me from saying all of England, but really, if I’m being honest—”
She was saved from further teasing by the appearance of Kate and Eversham. Caro pulled Kate aside and left Val to entertain Eversham.
“My dear.” Kate’s eyes were wide with disbelief. “What happened?”
“We went to the greenroom,” Caro explained, keeping an eye on the rest of the assembled gathering over Kate’s shoulder. Quickly she described seeing Lord Tate with his flowers, followed by her encounter with Thomas Harrison and their discussion with his nephew. “I’d forgotten about the time until the bell rang and then it was too late.”
“I assume that horrid man was one of your father’s customers?” Kate asked, her brow creased with sympathy.
Caro nodded. “I simply couldn’t let Papa suffer for my carelessness. Especially not when he’s so worried that my unmarried state might be due to his own birth. And now this awful man, Gates, has tried to shame him through me. I never realized, Kate, just how much gossip both he and Mama have withstood without complaint over the years.”
Then, remembering who she was talking about, she amended, “Perhaps Mama wasn’t entirely without complaints.”
“Perhaps not.” Kate squeezed her shoulder in reassurance. “But I sincerely doubt men of business spend their time discussing the latest gossip. I know the ones at the paper don’t.” At the reminder that Kate herself was a business owner, Caro realized her friend would be an excellent confidante for the news that she’d one day be in charge of Hardcastle Fine Foods.
But that discussion would have to wait until later.
“I suppose,” Caro said, “but even if they didn’t complain to Papa openly about me, who knows how many of his business contacts chose to sever ties—or worse, never do business with him at all—because of me?
“I can’t hold Val to this, of course,” she continued. “I was just so angry when Gates spoke out that I said the only thing I knew would make him feel horrid for his hateful words.”
Kate blinked. “I’m not sure this is something that can be easily undone without—”
But Caro was in no mood to hear reason. “I’m sure Val will agree with me once we’ve had a chance to talk. He’s no more eager to marry me than I am to marry him.”
Though she’d been angry when she’d first learned of his invitation to the theatre, his explanation and subsequent apology had cooled her temper. And even had she wanted to punish him, only a ninnyhammer would consider an invitation to the theatre and a surprise betrothal to be of equal consequences.
Kate glanced over to where Val was laughing with Eversham. “He doesn’t seem to be particularly upset to me.”
“He’s good at hiding what he feels,” Caro said dismissively. “You know that.”
But her friend only smiled. “Not where you’re concerned, Caro.”
Chapter Eight
Val was in no mood to sit through the rest of Hamlet’s string of bad decisions, and to his relief, the Hardcastles were amenable to his suggestion that they leave early.
He’d been thrumming with nervous energy ever since he and Caro had stepped out of the corridor and onto their own stage of sorts. He’d gone through the scene with a sense of unreality, though at no moment did he feel the urge to object to Caro’s announcement. Indeed, if she hadn’t been the one to speak up, he would have. It had been clear from the gathered crowd that she’d be ruined if he didn’t offer for her.
And though he had begun the day without any notion of seeing her again, let alone marrying her, he couldn’t say he was altogether upset by how events had turned out.
“It’s not every day my little girl gets betrothed.” Hardcastle clapped him on the back with a smile.
Lady Lavinia chattered about wedding plans the whole drive back to Belgrave Square and didn’t seem to notice Caro’s monosyllabic responses to her queries.
But Val did.
When the carriage finally pulled to a stop in front of the Hardcastle townhouse, he climbed out to hand out Lady Lavinia, then waited until Mr. Hardcastle had disembarked before placing a hand on Caro’s arm to stay her.
“I’d like a few words with my betrothed, if I may.” He spoke loudly enough for Lady Lavinia to hear.
Caro’s eyes widened but she did not demur.
Lady Lavinia gave him an indulgent smile. “I suppose I can allow it. Do not be too long, Caroline. We’ll have lots to plan tomorrow.”
After instructing his coachman to drive around the square until he signaled, Val climbed back in and faced Caro. She seemed remarkably unrepentant for one who’d blithely announced their betrothal only an hour ago without an actual proposal. He didn’t mind the fact of it, but her brazenness amused him.
“You needn’t lecture me,” she began, her chin held high. “I got us into this debacle and I shall find a way to get us out. I simply could not let that awful man shame my father. He’s done nothing wrong. Why should his business suffer because I was foolish enough to be caught in a compromising position? I know your father will be relieved. Even though he was polite enough, it was evident that he would have preferred you with nearly any other young lady. Indeed, I suspect—”
“Caro,” Val interrupted when it became clear that if left unchecked, she would keep talking until they were both old and gray. “Take a breath. I have no intention of reading you a scold. Indeed, I would have announced our betrothal if you’d not done so first.”