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A muscle started twitching in Blake's jaw and he didn't even bother to look at James when he said, "You don't have a sister, do you, Riverdale?"

"No."

"Consider yourself blessed." Then he turned on his heel and stalked away.

James and Penelope stared at the doorway through which Blake had just exited until Penelope finally blinked a few times, turned to James and said, "I don't think he's very pleased with us just now."

"No."

"Were you serious?"

"About marrying Caroline?"

Penelope nodded.

"I would hardly make a statement like that if I weren't prepared to see it through."

"But you don't want to marry her," Penelope said, her eyes narrowing.

"Certainly not the way Blake does."

"Hmmm." She crossed the room and sat down. "You're quite clever, Riverdale, but your plan may very well backfire. Blake can be very stubborn."

James sat down across from her. "A fact of which I am well aware."

"I'm sure you are." She curved her lips, but it wasn't really a smile. "And are you also aware that I share the same trait?"

"Stubbornness, you mean? My dear Penelope, I would run unclothed across England in the dead of winter just to escape a battle of wills with the likes of you."

"Nicely put, but if your little declaration fails to produce the desired results, you will marry Caro­line."

"I have no doubt that you will hold a pistol to my back until I do."

Penelope's voice rose. "This is not a joke, Riverdale."

"I know. But I meant what I said earlier. I need to marry eventually, and Caroline is a damned sight better than I'm likely to do if I go hunting for a wife in London."

"Riverdale!"

He shrugged. "It's true. I quite like Caroline, and if I have to marry her because Blake is too cowardly to do it himself-well, then, so be it. Frankly, I can think of worse fates."

"What a coil." Penelope sighed.

"Don't worry. Blake will propose," James said with a confident wave of his hand. "It'd kill him to See me married to her."

"I hope you're right. Lord knows he needs a little happiness." And then Penelope sighed and sagged back against the back of her chair. "I just want him to be happy. Is that so very much to ask?"

Outside the doorway, Caroline stood with her hand over her open mouth. She'd thought her humiliation was complete when Penelope had de­manded that someone -anyone!- marry her. But this-

She choked back a sob. This went beyond humil­iation. Humiliation was something she could live through, something she could endure and eventu­ally put behind her.

But this was different. Something inside her was dying, and Caroline wasn't sure whether it was her heart or her soul.

It didn't matter which, she realized as she ran back up to her room. All that mattered was that she was hurting, and the pain was going to last the rest of her lifetime.

It took two hours, but eventually Caroline was able to compose herself. A bit of cold water reduced the puffiness around her eyes, and several minutes of deep breaths had managed to remove the quaver from her voice. Unfortunately, there wasn't much she could do to take her heart out of her eyes.

She made her way down the stairs and wasn't surprised to find James and Penelope still sitting in the drawing room. Their conversation drifted down the hall, and Caroline was thankful to hear that they had moved on to more ordinary topics.

They were discussing the theatre when she reached the doorway, and she knocked softly against the doorframe. James stood up instantly when he saw her.

"May I come in?" she asked.

"Of course," Penelope said. "Here, sit by me."

Caroline shook her head. "I'd rather stand, thank you.

"As you wish."

"Do you know where Blake is?" Caroline asked, her posture as regal as a queen's. "I wish to say this only once."

"I'm right here."

Caroline whipped her head around. Blake was standing in the doorway, his body somehow rigid and weary at the same time. His cheeks were touched with color, and she wondered if he'd been walking in the chill night air.

"Good. I would like to say something if I may."

"Please do," Blake said.

Caroline gave each of the room's three other oc­cupants an assessing glance and then finally said, "

I do not require a husband. I certainly do not re­quire a husband who does not require a wife. All I wish is to be allowed to remain here, in hiding, until my twenty-first birthday."

"But Caroline!" Penelope protested. "These gen­tlemen have compromised you. You must allow one of them to make it right."

Caroline swallowed. She didn't have much in life, but she did have her pride, and she wasn't about to let Blake Ravenscroft humiliate her any more than he had already. She looked straight at him even as she addressed her words to his sister. "Lady Fairwich, these gentlemen have done nothing to com­promise me."

"Nothing?" Blake asked.

Caroline glared at him, wondering what devil had prompted him to speak when he was so vocal about avoiding marriage. "Nothing which meant anything," she said in a scathing voice.

Their eyes met, and both knew she was talking about their encounter on the beach. The difference was that only Caroline knew she was lying.

Her time with Blake had meant everything to her.

Every minute of every encounter was held close to her heart.

She blinked back tears. Soon she'd be gone, and all she'd have to keep her warm inside were mem­ories. There would be no man to hold her, no friends to tease her, no seaside manor that had, in just a few short weeks, become home.

But of all the things she would miss, the absence that would hurt the most was that of Blake's smile. It was so rare, but when his lips turned up at the edges... And then when he actually laughed, the pure joy of the sound made her want to sing.

But he wasn't smiling now. His face was hard, and he was glaring at her as if she were some sort of antidote, and she knew that if she didn't get out of the room that instant she was going to make an utter fool of herself. "Excuse me," she said quickly, rushing toward the door.

"You can't go now!" Penelope exclaimed, jump­ing to her feet.

Caroline didn't turn around as she said, "I've said what I came here to say."

"But where are you going?"

"Out."

"Caroline."

It was Blake's voice, and just the sound of it made her eyes tear up. "What?" she managed to say. Per­haps it was a rude reply, but it was the best she could do.

"It's dark out. Or hadn't you noticed?"

"I'm going out to look at the stars."

She heard his footsteps and then felt his hand on her shoulder, slowly drawing her away from the door.

"The night is cloudy," he said, his voice surpris­ingly gentle. "You won't be able to see the stars."

She didn't even turn around as she said, "I know they're there. And that's all that matters."

Blake closed his eyes as she ran from the room, for some reason not wanting to see her retreating form.

"Now look what you've done," he heard his sis­ter say. "You've broken that poor girl's heart."

He didn't answer, not knowing-hell, not wanting to know if his sister's words were true. If he had broken her heart, then he was a bastard of the worst sort. And if it wasn't true, it meant that Caroline didn't care about him, that their one night of pas­sion hadn't meant anything to her.