Chapter Sixteen
I daresay it’s because there’s a fox on my family crest,” Langham responded with ill-disguised annoyance. “But there’s one reason why I don’t belong there. I’ve never sent any correspondence to Miss Warrington.”
Caro could see that the duke was irritated, but Flora could hardly have left him off her list of Effie’s potential relations. And how could she have known Val would bring Langham to Caro’s house?
Langham glared at Flora. “You’ve known this whole time I was on your bloody”—Val coughed, and he amended his epithet—“your infernal list.”
“I did,” Flora said unrepentantly. “But you can easily eliminate yourself from suspicion.”
Caro had come to the same conclusion. “Come to the escritoire, your grace, and we can test the impression of your signet ring against the original.”
“Gladly,” Langham said with another glare at Flora. “Though since I don’t give a hang about my reputation, I’d like to point out that I wouldn’t be under suspicion by Miss Warrington’s own estimation.”
Caro thought the duke made a valid point, but none of them stopped him from comparing his ring impression with the wax seal.
Within minutes, the duke had pressed his signet into the melted puddle of wax Caro had heated.
Flora, she noted, was careful not to stand too close to the duke when she brought over the impression from Effie’s for comparison.
“It is not a match.” If Caro detected a hint of disappointment in her friend’s voice, she could hardly blame her, given Langham’s rude behavior. She’d thought him charming, if a bit fractious, at their meeting yesterday, but she suspected his manner today was closer to his usual demeanor.
“As I said.” The duke sounded sullen. “There is a mark on the seal that is not present on mine.”
“At least now you have been eliminated,” Val said with an overabundance of good cheer.
“So, are we to question the heads of these families to determine which of them or their relations have some connection to Miss Warrington?” Langham demanded, looking at the list again. “I have some little acquaintance with Bute and Grafton—you will remember Grafton from school, Wrackham—though I don’t know that they or their families are overly involved in Parliament. Waterbury is ninety if he’s a day and rarely leaves his Yorkshire estate. His grandson is a rakehell, if I recall. Croyden and Fitzmaurice are entirely unknown to me.”
“Which of them has an estate near Brighton?” Caro asked, recalling the letter Val had found in Mr. Thorn’s rooms. “It cannot be a coincidence that Effie was handed off to the Warrington’s near there.”
“None of their family seats are in Sussex.” Flora looked deflated. “I can see if any of them owns property there, but that will take more searching.”
“It might be more expedient if we simply go to the coaching inn and ask about the estates nearby.” Caro wished she weren’t stranded in London until the wedding. Kate and Eversham could go, of course, but she selfishly wanted to be there.
“It would at that,” Val said. There was a faraway look in his blue eyes.
Before she could press him on what he was thinking, Flora rose from her chair. “Lady Katherine will be wondering what’s become of me.” She smiled ruefully. “Thank you for the refreshments, Miss Har— I mean, Caro.” Despite having been acquainted for more than a year, the other lady still had difficulty remembering Caro’s admonition to address her informally.
To Val, who had risen with Langham, she said, “It was a pleasure to see you again, my lord.”
She offered a deep curtsy to the duke. “Your grace, it has been…a memorable experience.”
“Indeed,” said Langham with a very correct bow. He watched her with open curiosity as she took up her leather case and left.
“I suppose I’d better be off as well.” Val turned to Caro. “Langham, oblige me by preceding me downstairs, will you?”
“Certainly,” the duke said. “Miss Hardcastle, it was a pleasure. Even the novelty of proving myself innocent of a crime.”
Once Langham was gone, Val leaned in and took Caro’s lips. When they were both breathless, he rested his forehead on hers. “I’m off to procure the special license.”
He stepped back, and Caro took his hands. “Mama took the news of the expedited wedding plans better than I’d expected.”
“That’s a relief.” Val wryly smiled. “How was that achieved?”
“I may have had to promise we’d marry at St. George’s if at all possible,” Caro said apologetically. She’d hoped to spare him an elaborate society wedding, but he of all people should understand the difficulties of dealing with determined parents. “So it’s likely the guest list will expand somewhat.”
But Val didn’t appear bothered. “I’ll speak with Mother. Perhaps she and your mama can join forces.”
“Do you think that’s wise?” Caro asked. The memory of his father’s stiff response to the news of their engagement was still fresh in her mind. The duchess had seemed pleasant enough when they’d spoken, but she didn’t know her very well. Perhaps she was simply better at hiding her displeasure than her husband. Caro would spare Mama the embarrassment if she could.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Val looked surprised.
“Well,” Caro began stiffly, “your father wasn’t pleased by the news of our betrothal, and though your mama appeared happy enough—”
Realization dawned in Val’s blue eyes and he pulled her to him in a quick hug. “I wasn’t thinking when I spoke. I’m sorry he made you feel unwelcome.”
She rested her head on his shoulder, inhaling the now familiar warm scent of lime and bergamot and relishing the feel of his arms around her.
“Come.” Val drew her over to the settee to sit beside him. Taking her hand, he said, “I had a very frank discussion with my father this morning. My hope is you’ll need not worry anymore about how he will treat either you or your parents.”
Caro listened intently as Val told her about his discussion with the duke and how firmly he’d expressed his expectations for how Caro and her family were to be treated by the duke and duchess.
But when he shared his threat to keep himself or any children they might have from his parents, Caro gasped. “Val! How could you say such a thing? I don’t wish to come between you and your family. It’s bad enough that he doesn’t think me good enough to marry you.”
Val leaned forward and dipped his head, looking her in the eye. “You are my family now. Or you will be soon. As a duke, my father is used to having his own way in all things. He wouldn’t have respected anything less than a full show of strength.”
Tears welled in her eyes.
He kissed her softly.
“I only did what I should have done four years ago,” he said once he’d pulled back. “I will never ever stand by as you endure disrespect at the hands of anyone, but particularly my family, ever again.”
He’d apologized to her on the night of their betrothal, but Caro knew all too well that words didn’t always match a person’s deeds. The realization that he’d not only spoken truly, but also gone so far as to threaten his father with consequences if he showed Caro disrespect again, filled her with hope. It felt as if with every gesture, Val was adding kindling to the embers of their old love. “Thank you,” she told him, her voice hoarse.