"He was afraid fourteen years ago when he sent me to his brother in Boston. I'm sure of it."
"He had just lost his wife and newborn son. Caroline, the man was overwhelmed with grief."
She was barely listening as Bradford continued to argue in her father's favor. She realized that he was defending her father's behavior. Instead of a rigid, unbending conclusion that her father had acted like a coward, he argued that the opposite was true. He was being both understanding and compassionate.
Why couldn't he be more understanding with her? she wondered. Why couldn't he unbend, just a little, for her? There was a shield around his heart, protecting his vulnerability, Caroline knew, but she didn't know how to remove it.
Bradford had stopped talking and his even, deep breathing told her that he was fast asleep. She tried to move away but his grip tightened around her.
Caroline closed her eyes but didn't go to sleep for a long time. Her mind raced with questions and decisions. She knew that her husband cared for her, more deeply than he realized. Perhaps it was just a matter of time before he admitted his love. And would trust come with that admission?
Caroline honestly didn't know. She had called him her opponent in their battle to understand each other. She remembered telling him that he didn't really know her at all. Bradford had proved the truth of her convictions when he tried to buy her forgiveness with the expensive jewels. Perhaps the women he had known in the past would have settled for that much, but Caroline still demanded more. She wanted the shield torn from his heart. She wanted it all.
The surprise of listening to Bradford argue in favor of her father told her that she too had made a grave mistake. She had never taken the time to learn the reasons behind his cynicism, only railed against the results of his sour disposition where women were concerned. She didn't know her opponent either.
Caroline decided on one last attack against his armor and found herself praying with determination. She might not be able to demolish his defenses, but she would damn well put a few dents in them!
Caroline was up, dressed, and in the middle of packing her things before Bradford woke up. As soon as he saw what she was doing, he became irritated. "This is nonsense," he muttered.
Caroline stopped folding the gown and dropped it on the bed. "I agree." She walked over to the connecting door, where her husband stood, and lifted on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek. "I don't want to leave," she told him. "And if you will only promise me that you will have complete faith in me, I'll unpack."
"Caroline, I'm not awake enough to spar with you yet. It's my duty to protect you from any threat, both from outside forces and from within. I don't need to make promises when I'll see that you aren't given the opportunity to stray."
"You insult me again with your beliefs, Bradford," Caroline announced. "But I'll forgive you for it. You don't know any better." She turned from him then and resumed packing, tears stinging her eyes.
Bradford was tired of the way she continually tried to manipulate him. He would have demanded a stop if he hadn't had two motives for sending her away. His primary reason was for Caroline's protection. He wanted his wife safe when he put his plan to trap her enemy into action, and Bradford Place, a fortress built during the Middle Ages, would more than fit the bill. The house was all of stone and situated on the top of a barren hill. Anyone approaching could be seen from a good half-mile's distance. He would send two guards with Caroline, and three others were already at the fortress.
The other reason, though paltry in comparison to his wife's safety, had to do with the method of gaining control. He was out to teach his Caroline a well deserved lesson, and when the week of isolation was completed, he was sure she would be more than willing to return to the luxury he could provide her.
She had the audacity to kiss him good-bye! They stood together on the marble steps of Bradford Hills and said their farewells. Bradford thought he looked grim with his determination and considered that his wife looked ready to conquer the world.
He considered telling her that this wasn't an adventure but a penance, but decided to keep his silence. When she saw Bradford Place, she would know the truth of it.
"Caroline, you must stay an entire week no matter what your inclinations are. Is that understood?"
Caroline nodded and turned to leave, but Bradford stopped her with his hand. "I'll have your word first. You'll not leave the property for one week, no matter what the reason given, no matter what-"
"Why?"
"I don't need to explain myself to you," Bradford muttered. "I want your word, Caroline."
He was squeezing her shoulders so firmly that Caroline thought she might carry bruises for a couple of days. She frowned over his demand. "You have my word, Bradford."
"And when you decide, after the full week, to return to my side where you belong, I'll be waiting for your apology."
Caroline pulled free of his hold and started down the steps. "Bradford, don't frown so," she called over her shoulder. "I've given you my word on the matter." She started to get into the carriage and suddenly turned back to him. "Of course, you'll have to trust me to keep it."
She couldn't resist the barb and felt very smug over her husband's startled reaction.
The smugness evaporated with the distance that separated her from her husband. It took almost four hours to reach Bradford Place. Her husband's vast land holdings were filled with hills and Caroline counted three en route to her temporary home. She prayed that it was temporary and that her husband would miss her. Maybe the separation would prove worth the pain. Maybe he would miss her enough to realize he loved her.
And maybe apples can fly, Caroline thought when she finally saw the house. The monstrosity looked cold and depressing. It sat on top of the hill, all alone, without the relief of a single tree to break the austerity. There was a wide creek circling the base of the hill. A decrepit-looking wooden bridge arched across the murky water, but the guards accompanying her insisted that she walk across in case the wood couldn't hold the weight of the carriage.
A closer look at her new home didn't make Caroline feel any better. The two-story building was made of gray stone and she considered that it was the only reason the albatross continued to stand at all.
"Lord, the only thing missing is a moat and some moss," Caroline muttered.
Mary Margaret walked beside her mistress the distance to the front door without a word of comment. "You needn't stay with me," Caroline told her maid. "I would understand if you wanted to return to Bradford Hills."
"We've got our work cut out for us," Mary Margaret returned. Caroline turned and saw her dimpled smile. "I don't know the reasons for your exile, but my loyalty belongs to you as well as to your husband. And I promised him to look after you."
"Well, we best see how horrible it is inside," Caroline said with a sigh.
The door was locked and it took Huggins, one of the guards, no small effort to get it opened. The door, warped by weather and time, screeched in protest when it was finally jarred loose.
The foyer was stark and consisted of a stone floor and plastered walls that were both brown from dirt. There were stairs leading to the second floor, but the banister rail bulged off the side and looked about ready to crash to the ground.
To the right was the dining room. Caroline walked over to the table centered in the dark room and ran her finger over the dust. She looked at the windows next. Burgundy drapes, limp with age, dragged against the floor.
Caroline slowly made her way back to the entryway. The main room was on the opposite side of the dining room, and while Caroline considered that the floor plan was actually similar to her father's townhouse, the likeness ended there.