The main room was closed off by glass-paned doors that someone must have added after the house was built. She opened them and walked down the three steps.
"I'm trying to visualize what this will look like when it's cleaned," Caroline remarked to her maid, who was hovering behind her.
The room was quite spacious. There was a large stone fireplace on the wall to the right, two big windows on the opposite wall, and doors leading outside in the center of the far wall.
Caroline walked over to the doors but couldn't see through the glass panes. She pulled them open and found a stone pathway. "In the spring, this room could be quite lovely," she remarked to her maid. "If a garden was planted, and-"
"You don't plan to be here that long, do you?" Mary Margaret couldn't keep the distress out of her voice.
Caroline didn't answer. She shivered from the wind coming through the open door and quickly shut it. Dust swirled around her as she slowly made her way back to the steps.
She sat down, shoulders slumped in defeat. Lord, it would take months to make the place decent. Bradford truly expected her return after her week's penance was up, and she now understood why he acted so certain!
"Do you want to return home?" Mary Margaret asked, her voice eager.
Caroline shook her head. "We'll start with the bedrooms first. If we don't kill ourselves trying to get up the steps, that is."
The second guard, a giant of a man named Tom, overheard Caroline's comment and immediately checked the stability of the staircase. "Sound as the day it was built," he announced. "Bannister just needs a few well-placed nails."
A sudden inspiration hit Caroline. "We'll have this place spotless in no time," she predicted with a surge of enthusiasm.
Mary Margaret rolled her eyes over her mistress's expectations. "It will take a week just to clean one room."
"Not if we have help! You must go into the village we passed on our way here and hire help," Caroline explained. "And a cook as well, Mary Margaret."
Caroline made her list and Mary Margaret set out in her mistress's carriage. But the boast that it wouldn't take long to clean the house proved false all the same. It took the remainder of the week, working from sunup to sundown to see it finished.
The transformation was quite spectacular. The walls were no longer a dingy brown but now sparkled with a coat of fresh white paint. The wooden floors in the dining room and main salon shone with polish.
Furniture had been found in the storage area of the attic, and the barren receiving room now looked warm and inviting. Caroline had purchased a potbelly stove and had it placed in the far corner of the main room, and when the doors were closed to the entry hall, the room was toasty warm.
But once the week was done, Caroline found herself growing restless. She had expected to see Bradford on her doorstep at week's end, but he continued to stay away. And so she waited. It was another full week before she finally accepted the truth.
Caroline cried herself to sleep every night, berating herself, her husband, and the injustices of life in general. She finally made her decision to give up and accept the situation. She informed Mary Margaret that they would return to Bradford Hills the following day.
Caroline stood in front of the fireplace in the receiving room while she considered what she would say to Bradford. She had no intention of asking his forgiveness and felt that if she just returned to his side, he would conclude that he had won. She would have to find a way to make him understand what was in her heart.
She shook her head, knowing that he would draw all the wrong conclusions, believe that she missed the luxuries, no doubt. That was a prick against her pride and she bristled over it. But what good were her ideals and her motives if she stayed all alone? What did pride matter? She had boasted that she wouldn't accept half measure and now admitted that half was certainly better than none at all.
Mary Margaret opened the door and announced that the Earl of Milfordhurst was there to see her. "Show him in," Caroline said, smiling.
Milford appeared in the doorway and grinned. Mary Margaret assisted him with his heavy winter cloak and then shut the door behind him.
"You're my very first visitor, Milford," Caroline told him. She rushed over and clasped his hands in hers and then impulsively reached up to kiss his cheek. "Lord, you're freezing," she remarked. "Stand before the fire and warm yourself. What brings you here?" she asked.
"I just wanted to say hello," Milford hedged.
"You've ridden all the way from London to say hello?" Caroline asked.
Milford looked a little sheepish. He took hold of Caroline's hand and led her to the settee and then sat down next to her. "You've lost weight," he remarked. "Caroline, I'm going to interfere again. I want you to listen to me. Brad isn't going to back down. His pride is too important to him and the sooner you accept that, the better off you'll be."
"I know."
"You know? Then why-" Milford was caught off guard by her ready admission. "Well, that was certainly easy work. Come now, Caroline. Let's go back to Bradford Hills now."
"Bradford's there? I thought he was in London," Caroline said.
"No, I stopped to see him first," Milford told her. "But he plans on returning to London tomorrow. You needn't pack anything, just come with me."
Caroline smiled and shook her head. "Milford, do you like this room?"
Milford was about to argue with Caroline but her mild question confused him. "What? The room?" He glanced around and then looked back at Caroline. "Yes," he remarked. "Why?"
"I would like Bradford to come here and see it as well," Caroline explained. "It's small by his standards, but it's warm and cozy now… and it's a home. Maybe he would understand if he could just see-"
"Caroline, what are you talking about? I just explained that Brad won't back down."
"He doesn't need to," Caroline placated. "I'll send a note and ask him to come for me."
"Are you stalling?" Milford asked, frowning.
Caroline shook her head and Milford looked at her for a long minute. He made up his mind that she was telling him the truth then and said, "Well, get on with the note writing then. Lord, but you're obstinate. No wonder Brad married you. Two peas in the same pod. You're very alike, you know."
"My attack against his cynicism," Caroline answered. She stood up and sighed. "It's late and you're probably very tired, but if you would like, we could play a game of cards."
Milford followed Caroline into the entryway. He was tired, and a game of whist or faro wasn't all that appealing, but he considered that Caroline had been alone for over two weeks and he could suffer through it.
"What did you have in mind?" he asked.
"Why, poker, of course," Caroline returned. "I won't tell if you don't." She walked ahead of him into the drawing room. "I've been trying to teach Mary Margaret but she doesn't have a mind for cards."
She heard Milford chuckle behind her and added, "Of course, if it offends you, we won't gamble."
Caroline sat down at the square table behind the settee, picked up the deck of cards in the center, and began to shuffle them as expertly as any man.
Milford let out a shout of laughter and removed his jacket. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and took his place across from Caroline. "I would feel uncomfortable taking money from you," he admitted, hoping she would argue with him.
"I won't," Caroline returned. "Besides, it's Bradford's money, not mine. And after you lose the first few games, you just might change your mind."
They played well into the night. When Caroline finally announced that she was too tired to continue, Milford balked. "You must give me an opportunity to recoup my losses," he protested.
"That was your argument an hour ago," Caroline said. She bid him good night and went up to her bedroom.