They complied en masse except for Andrew, who lingered to stare into Caroline's face. She gave him a reassuring smile and motioned for him to leave the room. "I'll be waiting just outside," he murmured. "Call for me if you wish."
When the door closed, Caroline went to the chair by the bedside and sat, folding her hands in her lap. Her face was nearly level with the earl's, and she did not bother to conceal her curiosity as she stared at him. He must have been handsome at one time, she thought, although he wore the innate arrogance of a man who had always taken himself far too seriously.
"My lord," she said, "I have come, as you requested. May I ask why you wished to see me?"
Rochester ignored her question for a moment, his slitted gaze moving over her speculatively. "Attractive, but… hardly a great beauty," he observed. "What does… he see in you, I wonder?"
"Perhaps you should ask Lord Drake," Caroline suggested calmly.
"He will not discuss you," he replied with frowning contemplation. "I sent for you because… I want the answer to one question. When my son proposes… will you accept?"
Startled, Caroline stared at him without blinking. "He has not proposed marriage to me, my lord, nor has he given any indication that he is considering such a proposition-"
"He will," Rochester assured her, his face twisting with a spasm of pain. Fumbling, he reached for a small glass on the bedside table. Automatically Caroline moved to help him, catching the noxious fragrance of spirits mixed with medicinal tonic as she brought the edge of the glass to his withered lips. Reclining back on the pillows, the earl viewed her speculatively. "You appear to have wrought… a miracle, Miss Hargreaves. Somehow you… have drawn my son out of his remarkable self-absorption. I know him… quite well, you see. I suspect your liaison began as a plan to deceive me, yet… he seems to have changed. He seems to love you, although… one never would have believed him capable of it."
"Perhaps you do not know Lord Drake as well as you think you do," Caroline said, unable to keep the edge from her tone. "He only needs someone to believe in him, and to encourage him. He is a good man, a caring one-"
"Please," he murmured, lifting a gnarled hand in a gesture of self-defense. "Do not waste… what little time I have left… with rapturous descriptions of my… good-for-naught progeny."
"Then I will answer your question," Caroline returned evenly. "Yes, my lord, if your son proposes to me, I will accept gladly. And if you do not leave him your fortune, I will not care one whit… and neither will he. Some things are more precious than money, although I am certain you will mock me for saying so."
Rochester surprised her by smiling thinly, relaxing more deeply against the pillows. "I will not mock you," he murmured, seeming exhausted but oddly serene. "I believe… you might be the saving of him. Go now, Miss Hargreaves… Tell Andrew to come."
"Yes, my lord."
She left the room quickly, her emotions in chaos, feeling chilly and anxious and wanting to feel the comfort of Andrew's arms around her.
Chapter Four
It had been two weeks since the Earl of Rochester had died, leaving Andrew the entirety of his fortune as well as the title and entailed properties. Two interminable weeks during which Caroline had received no word from Andrew. At first she had been patient, understanding that Andrew must be wading through a morass of funeral arrangements and business decisions. She knew that he would come to her as soon as possible. But as day followed day, and he did not send so much as a single written sentence, Caroline realized that something was very wrong. Consumed with worry, she considered writing to him, or even paying an unexpected visit to Rochester Hall, but it was unthinkable for any unmarried woman under the age of thirty to be so forward. She finally decided to send her brother Cade to find Andrew, bidding him to find out if Andrew was well, if he needed anything… if he was thinking of her.
While Cade went on his mission to locate the new Lord Rochester, Caroline sat alone in her chilly winter garden, gazing forlornly at her clipped-back plants and the bare branches of her prized Japanese maples. There were only two weeks until Christmas, she thought dully. For her family's sake, Caroline had decorated the house with boughs of evergreens and holly, and had adorned the doors with wreaths of fruit and ribbons. But she sensed that instead of a joyous holiday, she was about to experience heartbreak for the first time in her life, and the black misery that awaited her was too awful to contemplate.
Something was indeed wrong, or Andrew would have come to her by now. And yet she could not imagine what was keeping him away. She knew that he needed her, just as she needed him, and that nothing stood in the way of their being together, if he so desired. Why, then, had he not come?
Just as Caroline thought she would go insane from the unanswered questions that plagued her, Cade returned home. The expression on his face did not ease her worry.
"Your hands are like ice," he said, chafing her stiff fingers and guiding her into the parlor, where a warm fire blazed in the hearth. "You've been sitting outside too long-wait, I'll send for some tea."
"I don't want tea." Caroline sat rigidly on the settee, while her brother's large form lowered to the space beside her. "Cade, did you find him? How is he? Oh, tell me something or I'll go mad!"
"Yes, I found him." Cade scowled and took her hands again, warming her tense fingers with his. He let out a slow sigh. "Drake… that is, Rochester… has been drinking again, quite a lot. I'm afraid he is back to his old ways."
She regarded him with numb disbelief. "But that's not possible."
"That's not all of it," Cade said darkly. "To everyone's surprise, Rochester has suddenly gotten himself engaged-to none other than our own dear cousin Julianne. Now that he's got the family fortune in his possession, it seems that Julianne sees his charms in a new light. The banns will be read in church tomorrow. They'll be married when the new year starts."
"Cade, don't tease like this," Caroline said in raw whisper. "It's not true… not true-" She stopped, suddenly unable to breathe, while flurries of brilliant sparks danced madly across her vision. She heard her brother's exclamation as if from a great distance, and she felt the hard, urgent grip of his hands.
"My God"-his voice was overlaid with a strange hum that filled her ears-"here, put your head down… Caro, what in the hell is wrong?"
She struggled for air, for equilibrium, while her heart clattered in a painful broken measure. "He c-can't marry her," she said through chattering teeth.
"Caroline." Her brother was unexpectedly steady and strong, holding her against him in a tight grip. "Good Lord… I had no idea you felt this way. It was supposed to be a charade. Don't tell me you had the bad sense to fall in love with Rochester, who has to be the worst choice a woman like you could make-"
"Yes, I love him," she choked out. Tears slid down her cheeks in scalding trails. "And he loves me, Cade, he does… Oh, this doesn't make sense!"
"Has he encouraged you to think that he would marry you?" her brother asked softly. "Did he ever say that he loved you?"
"Not in those words," she said in a sob. "But the way he was with me… he made me believe…" She buried her head in her arms, weeping violently. "Why would he marry Julianne, of all people? She is evil… oh, there are things about her that you don't know… things that Father told me about her before he died. She will ruin Andrew!"