Her loneliness was always worse when she climbed into her cold bed. Then she missed Bradford more than ever. The old-fashioned mattress was lumpy with matted straw, and her back ached every time she turned.
She thought about Bradford's past and felt a little ashamed that she hadn't shown more patience with him. And then she finally fell asleep, holding the pillow against her chest and pretending that it was her husband.
The messenger Caroline had sent to Bradford returned late the next morning to say that the Duke of Bradford had been called to London the day before.
Milford grumbled over the inconvenience of hunting his friend down, worried that Caroline would turn stubborn and change her mind, and then kissed her good-bye and began his journey back to the city.
Caroline was also disappointed. She strolled through the rooms of Bradford Place, thinking about her husband and how she would proceed when they were once again together.
She went back to her bedroom, sat down on the bed, and considered which gown she would wear when he finally came for her. She wanted to spend one night here at Bradford Place, liking the cozy atmosphere, and then considered that her husband wouldn't sleep more than two minutes on the horrid mattress. That thought led to another and another, and Caroline then had the most bizarre idea. She laughed with delight and raced back downstairs to put her idea into motion.
One final jab against his armor, Caroline justified when the deed was done. Just one final assault. Then she would settle down and learn to accept.
Chapter Thirteen
Bradford was in a panic.
When the messenger arrived at Bradford Hills and announced that Franklin Kendall had escaped the shadows that followed him, Bradford's immediate impulse was to go to Caroline.
When he had calmed down a bit, he canceled that idea, knowing that she was safe with the five guards he had hired seeing to her protection. There was always the chance that Bradford was being watched, too, and if he traveled to Bradford Place, he would well be leading her enemy right to her front door.
He left for London with the vow that he would tear the town apart until he found the man. Twice he had tried to close the trap, and each time his cunning adversary hadn't taken the bait. Well, he was through with traps. He knew that the marquis's younger brother was the guilty one, and if he had to goad him into a duel, he would do just that.
He had had the foresight to make Caroline promise that she wouldn't correspond with any of her relatives and knew that she thought it was because of the shabby way he was treating her. That wasn't the case at all, but he hadn't bothered to explain to her. He didn't want anyone to know where she was and had confided only in Milford. His friend, of course, would keep his silence.
He felt guilty over excluding Caroline from his concerns but argued that the less she knew, the less she would worry.
Bradford didn't arrive at the townhouse until late that evening. One of the hired investigators was waiting out front and quickly informed him that Franklin had surfaced again. He had been secreted with a new mistress and had spent the entire weekend with her.
New instructions were given and then Bradford went inside. He was pacing the library when the Earl of Braxton arrived and requested an immediate audience.
Braxton looked tired and out of sorts and came right to the point of the visit. "I took a chance on finding you here. Caroline isn't with you, is she?"
"No, she isn't." Bradford didn't comment further but offered his father-in-law a drink and then sat down across from him.
"You two have an argument? I don't mean to put my nose in the middle, but the marquis is beside himself. Franklin keeps making snide insinuations and Mile's upset. She hasn't been to see him or written a word and he's feeling abandoned. He doesn't believe the sordid lies that waste of a brother keeps making. But he is convinced that she's ill and you're hiding the truth from him. Always was a worrier, Milo was. Of course, she's fit as a fiddle, isn't she?"
The alarm was there, in his eyes, and Bradford quickly nodded his head. "Yes, she's fine," he answered. "We have had a difference of opinion but nothing to concern yourself about. What remarks has Franklin been making?"
"I'll not repeat them," the earl snapped. "He's out to discredit my sweet daughter. Taken a dislike to her and I can't imagine why."
Bradford didn't comment. He seethed with anger inside, knowing full well why Franklin was weaving his lies.
"Well, my boy, she's got to come back to London for a visit. Milo is working himself into a lather. You'll see to it at once, won't you?"
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but that isn't possible just now."
"Put your pride aside, Bradford! Have a little compassion. You'll have a lifetime ahead of you to fight with my daughter. Call a truce for now. Milo isn't the strong buck you are. He has little enough time left as it is, and has waited fourteen years for Caroline to come back to him. He loves her as much as I do."
The earl looked ready to grab hold of Bradford and shake some sense into him. Bradford hesitated a long minute, suffering his father-in-law's glare, and then finally came to a decision. "Caroline and I have had a difference of opinion but that isn't the reason she isn't here with me."
Slowly, without interruption, Bradford explained the true reason for his wife's absence. He told how someone had pushed her down the steps at the Claymeres' house, described in detail the carriage "accident," quoted parts of the threatening letter Caroline had received, and ended the sordid tale with his conclusion that Franklin was behind it all.
"He has the most to gain," Bradford explained. "From various sources, I've learned that the marquis is going to settle quite a bit of money on Caroline. The land and the title will, of course, go to Franklin, but without the money he'll be strapped to keep up his lifestyle. Loretta has gambling debts that amount to a sizable fortune, and the only reason the vultures haven't closed in on her is due to the vouchers she signed promising the money as soon as the marquis dies.
"When Caroline returned to London, the marquis changed his will and told Franklin and Loretta what he had done after the papers had all been signed."
Braxton had slumped farther and farther into his chair during the explanation and now buried his head in his hands.
"The marquis is disgusted with his brother and his parade of mistresses, and knows all about Loretta's gambling habits."
The earl shook his head and began to cry.
Bradford worried over his father-in-law's reaction and hurried to calm him. "Sir, it isn't as bad as it sounds," he promised. "Caroline is well protected and Franklin doesn't make a move without me knowing it. I don't have sufficient evidence to prove his guilt, but I thought to call him out and be done with it."
Braxton continued to shake his head. "No, you don't understand. Why didn't she tell me? I could have sent her back before you married her." His voice was filled with agony and despair. "I could have-"
"Send her back? To Boston?" Bradford was having difficulty following the disrupted speech. A feeling of dread settled around his heart and he jerked his father-in-law to his feet. "Tell me! You know something, don't you? For God's sake, tell me what you're thinking."
"It was a long time ago, and I waited until the last was dead before I had her return. So long ago, and yet it seems like yesterday in my mind. My wife had just died and the baby, too, and Caroline and I went to my country home. I had caused some problems for myself with my radical views on Ireland, and Perkins, one of the leaders who opposed me, didn't take kindly to my interference. He owned land in Ireland, far more than any other nobleman, and the measure I had backed just passed, allowing the Irish Catholics ownership of their own land. I knew Perkins hated me but I didn't know how evil he really was. To the world he was an upstanding citizen."