Awakened By The Lord’s Kiss by Meghan Sloan
Chapter 2
1813
Caroline headed downstairs in a good mood. Her lessons had gone better than she expected, and Marie had been very pleased with her progress. Now she had had her lunch, she had the afternoon to herself, and Caroline planned to make the most of it. It was such a beautiful day, and she was looking forward to going out on her horse for a long ride out in the countryside.
Her parents were in the morning room having tea when Caroline found them. Bingham looked up from his newspaper and smiled at his daughter.
“Yes, Caroline?”
“I’m just going out on Midnight, Father.”
“All right, dear.” Her father went back to his newspaper. “Just take care while you’re out.”
“Of course.”
Sitting across from her husband, Lady Bingham gave her daughter a disapproving frown.
“You’re going out riding again? This is the fourth time this week.”
“What’s wrong with that, Mother? You’re always telling me that I need to get out into the fresh air, so I’m taking your advice.”
“It’s not very ladylike doing it so much.”
Bingham sighed.
“Oh, stop it, Ann. Caroline’s right, you were the one who told her to go out more, and she enjoys it. She’s not going out and getting into trouble.”
“Not anymore.” Lady Bingham muttered.
Caroline could hear her across the room, and she bit back a sigh. Her mother was always under the impression that she was going to get hurt. It was the reason that one of the servants had to come out with her to make sure she didn’t fall off her horse and injure herself. Caroline felt like she wasn’t able to relax properly. How was she meant to get into trouble when she had a chaperone?
Bingham shook his head at his wife and turned to Caroline.
“Go and saddle Midnight, darling. I’ll make sure Stevens is out there once you’re ready. He needs to get out as well.”
“Yes, Father.”
At least she would be able to have a bit of enjoyment with Stevens. The footman wasn’t keen on horses, but he was good company. Lady Bingham was constantly complaining about her daughter being on such good terms with the servants to the point that she talked to them like they were old friends, but Caroline argued back that she barely had any friends, and the servants were practically family. Her mother simply sniffed, not happy that her daughter had spoken back to her. The children of her mother’s friends weren’t Caroline’s friends. Not when they were pushed together.
She had been keeping a closer eye on her since her accident five years before. It wasn’t her fault that she had been knocked over by Henry Beaufort and cut her head open. It wasn’t her fault that he liked to cause trouble. And yet Lady Bingham had started getting overprotective. It had taken almost a month before Caroline was allowed to go further than the immediate garden with her mother watching her. That had been frustrating when Caroline liked to go exploring.
She understood Lady Bingham’s concerns, but it didn’t make her feel any better.
Caroline absently rubbed the scar on her forehead. Dr Preston had said that she wouldn’t be left with a scar, and she wouldn’t need stitches. But he had been wrong on both counts. After a week, her wound was still not mending as the physician would have liked, so she had had to sit through having a needle shoved into her skin to close the wound. Now she had a thick scar on her forehead. It was near enough to the hairline that she could arrange her hair to hide most of it, but Caroline was very much aware of it. It felt like it itched.
That was another reason she didn’t have many friends; her mother thought the scar made her look ugly. Caroline didn’t think so, but her insecurities had been coming into play recently. She wanted to be a normal girl with her friends, go out and meet people, but the scar had her getting worried.
She would be having her first Season in London in a couple of years, and Caroline knew she would be uncomfortable about her scar. Who would want a woman who was flawed as a wife? But her father had said the right man wouldn’t care about that as long as she proved her love and devotion to him. That would be enough for them. Caroline could only hope that he was right.
Changing into her riding clothes, Caroline hurried back downstairs and out to the stables. Midnight was already saddled up, and Stevens was holding onto the reins of Midnight and one of the horses he borrowed whenever he had to go with her. He looked very uncomfortable, giving Caroline a brisk nod.
“Are you ready to go, Lady Caroline?”
“Yes, Stevens.” Caroline grinned as Stevens gave the two horses a wary look.
“Nice to see you’re ready to come out with me.”
“Lady Bingham called me in and said I needed to be the one to go with you.” Stevens flinched when his horse nudged his shoulder with its nose. “She refused to listen to my protests that I’m not good on horses.”
Caroline knew why her mother had chosen the large footman. He was far bigger than her, bigger than most men. Caroline had no idea men could be this tall. Apparently, he was intimidating, and Caroline needed that when she was out. She didn’t think so, but there was no arguing with her mother.
For now.
“Well,” Caroline took Midnight’s reins and climbed into the saddle, “if you have to come along, you’d better keep up with me.”
“Lady Caroline, I don’t think …”
But Caroline had kicked Midnight into motion before the footman could finish. She galloped away, heading down the slope towards the main gate. There was the sound of another horse galloping behind her, and she looked over her shoulder to see Stevens clinging onto his horse for dear life as it started at a gallop that looked like he would careen out of the saddle. Caroline paused for a moment, wondering if she should wait for him and make sure he wouldn’t go flying, but the urge to go riding as fast as she could with little supervision was tempting.
So, she urged Midnight to gallop faster and headed down the hill towards the stream. This place had left a lot of bad memories for her, and it had taken a while before Caroline could come down here without going into a panic about the memories. It still made her shudder, but things weren’t as bad as before.
Henry Beaufort had a lot to answer for. Caroline hated him for what he had done. He couldn’t think that what he had done was amusing. Even if he finally apologised now, Caroline wouldn’t be able to forgive him. He had pushed it too far, and all on the first meeting.
She hated him.
Midnight slowed so she could jump the river, which she did with ease. Caroline was urging her to head up the gentle incline when a loud bang rang out. Something in the air rippled near her face, and Caroline cried out. That set Midnight off, and she neighed loudly, rising onto her hind legs. Caroline tried to keep a hold on the reins, but the surprise move made her lose her grip, and she was falling.
The air was knocked out of her lungs as she hit the ground, and then she was rolling so fast her head was spinning. Suddenly, Caroline stopped, and the world tilted so fast she wanted to be sick. She was in the stream, lying in the shallows. It hadn’t been raining lately, so it wasn’t as deep as it could have been, but she could feel the water seeping through her dress.
She lay where she was for a moment. What had just happened? Had someone just shot at her?
Oh, God. Someone had shot at her.
There was the sound of running feet, and then Caroline was aware of someone rolling her over. Her vision cleared, and she realised someone was leaning over her. It was a boy – a young man – with black hair and eyes so blue they were like gems. He looked concerned, brushing her wet hair off her forehead.
“Are you all right?”
It took a moment for Caroline to realise who was leaning over her. She recognised those blue eyes. Henry Beaufort.
“Please, answer me,” Henry begged. “I heard a gunshot, and then I saw you on the ground. Please tell me you didn’t get hurt.”
Gunshot. So, someone had shot at her. She hadn’t imagined it. Then Caroline saw the pistol tucked into Henry’s waistband. Oh, God. Had he shot at her?
“Come on.” Henry took her arm. “Let’s get you to your feet.”
“No!” Caroline pulled away. “I can do it myself.”
“You’ve just fallen off your horse.”
“And I’m fine on my own.”
Caroline rolled away, which had her going further into the stream, and she slowly got to her feet. Her whole body hurt, and her knee was throbbing. She tried to put her weight onto that leg, and it screamed at her. Flinching, she staggered and did her best to keep upright. Henry reached for her, but Caroline swung at him.
“Keep away from me!”
“What?” Henry stopped, looking bewildered. “I’m just trying to help you.”
“Just trying to help.” Caroline snorted. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you shot at me yourself.”
“Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know. Why would you cut my head open five years ago?” Caroline gestured at her head. “I’ve still got the scar.”
For a moment, Henry didn’t say anything. Then he swallowed and held out a hand.
“At least let’s get you out of the water. I don’t know who it was who shot at you, but it wasn’t me.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Henry grunted.
“I can tell. You’re just like everyone else. At this point, I could be in another country, and I would still get blamed.”
“Being in another country would do everyone a favour,” Caroline snapped.
Something passed across Henry’s face. He looked hurt. Why would he be hurt over something he knew to be true? Everyone would be happier if he just left. Being the heir to a duke didn’t mean he had the privilege of being who he was.
Midnight whinnied. She had trotted back to the stream, stepping into the water and nudging Caroline with her nose. Keeping her eyes on Henry, Caroline fumbled for the reins, getting them on the second try. Then she heard someone shouting and turned to see Stevens. He had finally joined them. His eyes were wide as he stared at her.
“Lady Caroline! I saw you fall. What …?”
“I want to go home, Stevens.” Caroline limped out of the river, tugging Midnight with her. “I think I’m going to need a change of clothes.”
“She’s cut her hand as well,” Henry added. “It’s going to need to be cleaned.”
Her hand? Caroline looked down and saw the blood dripping from her palm. There was a big gash near her thumb. Another thing she could say Henry had given her. Wincing from the pain that was now making an appearance, Caroline managed to get into the saddle.
“What happened?” Stevens asked, his eyes searching her face. “You were just riding, and then you were falling. What happened?”
“Ask him.” Caroline jerked her head at Henry. “He’s good at spinning stories.”
Before Henry could say anything, she turned her horse and headed back up towards the road. Her previous good mood was gone now. She didn’t want to go riding anymore. Henry had taken that away from her.
Her mother said she was always getting into trouble. That wasn’t strictly true. If Henry Beaufort was around, Caroline just ended up getting dragged into trouble.
The boy was more trouble than he was worth. And Caroline hated it.
#
Henry watched Caroline go, a mixture of frustration and concern bubbling in his gut. He felt awful that she had been hurt again, and he didn’t like seeing people get hurt, but she immediately thought it was him. She refused to let him near her because she believed he was the one who shot at her.
Just like everyone else, Caroline Folton believed that Henry was the bad one. He was the boy who caused trouble and had no remorse about it. His parents were in despair that Henry wouldn’t own up to his mistakes. He had done so when they were children, but in the last five years, that had changed. Now Henry refused to take responsibility.
How could he when it wasn’t his fault?
The servant was looking at Henry curiously, apprehension flickering in his eyes.
“What happened, Master Beaufort?”
Henry sighed and turned away.
“It doesn’t matter what I say; you’re not going to believe me. I’m not going to waste my breath. Just …” He hesitated. “Just make sure she gets home and is looked after.”
“I plan to, Master Beaufort.” The servant awkwardly turned the horse around. “Maybe you should make yourself scarce. I’m sure Lord Bingham isn’t going to be happy when he hears what his daughter has to say.”
Henry didn’t need to be told twice. Lord Bingham was a nice gentleman, and he was actually kind to Henry, which was startling. Everyone else kept him at arm’s length, but Lord Bingham made a point of talking to him if they crossed paths. Perhaps he saw Henry differently from everyone else.
He certainly wouldn’t once he heard what had happened to his daughter. Caroline would be adamant that Henry had shot at her. Yes, he was carrying a pistol, but he would never shoot anyone. Certainly not Caroline Folton.
James had a lot to answer for. Including blackening Henry’s name before he even had a chance to build himself up.
His brother was leaning against a tree as Henry stalked back to the path. He was checking the pistol, a strong smell of gunpowder in the air.
“What happened? Is Lady Caroline all right?”
“She cut her hand open, and that’s another dress ruined for her.” Henry glared at James. “Are you out of your mind? Why did you shoot at her? Amusement?”
James shrugged.
“I was aiming for a pheasant. She got in the way.”
“There were no pheasants there, and you know it! You could have hit her!”
“But I didn’t. She’ll live.”
Henry had thought he had got used to James’ relaxed attitude when things went wrong. He just seemed to have no remorse for anything. As long as he got some fun out of it, that was fine.
“She’ll live,” he repeated with a snort. “Like she did when you tackled her into the stream and almost killed her five years ago?”
“She didn’t die, did she?”
“I saw the cut on her head, James! That scar is going to be with her permanently because you thought it would be funny to knock her over.”
James pushed off the tree and tucked his pistol into the belt on his trousers.
“Then maybe she shouldn’t play with people she doesn’t know. You never know what riff-raff you’re going to come across.”
Henry stared at him. How could James think almost killing another child was all right?
“You’re awful, do you know that? What you do is just disgusting.” He followed James as his brother turned and walked away. “You’re lucky Caroline hasn’t caused a stink about it.”
“She would still blame you. She believed it was you last time.”
“Only because people assumed that it was me.”
James sniggered.
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have covered for me the first time.”
Henry gritted his teeth. When James first started doing what he called mischief, Henry had started defending him, taking responsibility for his actions. James wasn’t good when it came to discipline, and while the duke and duchess were fair people, their governess had been a strict disciplinarian and used the cane. James hated the cane, so Henry had done what any brother would have done and said it was him. Anything to protect his little brother.
Unfortunately, after doing it for a year, nobody believed that Henry was a good boy. They saw him as the troublemaker, the one who liked to be horrible to people for no reason other than for a source of amusement. Henry didn’t find it amusing at all. It horrified him that James would do this. How were they brothers when James behaved like this? It was despicable, but because everyone believed without any proof that Henry was the culprit, he had no choice but to simply take the title of the bad child. And James loved it.
He really needed to stop hanging around with James. But James was sneaky. He never did anything wrong when Henry wasn’t around, and their parents told the two to play together so James could keep Henry in check.
His brother thought this was hilarious. Henry just felt nauseous.
“I helped you because I was your brother, James.” Henry darted in front of James, causing the other boy to stop. “It was meant to be a one-time occasion. But then you kept asking again and again. I did it because I love you. But now, it doesn’t matter what happens; you’ve decided to say it was me all the time. Now look at what’s happening!”
“You could just say something.” James shrugged. “You are the heir to the dukedom, after all.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“I ... I don’t know, actually.”
Henry growled, shoving his brother in the chest.
“You’re going to get me into serious trouble, James! Shooting at girls? Really?”
“No one’s getting hurt.”
“Caroline Folton got hurt! Twice!” Henry gestured with two fingers. “And she’s going to blame me!”
James snorted.
“She needs a sense of humour. And you shouldn’t be concerned about what she thinks.” He stepped around Henry. “Come on; let’s go home. This is boring me now.”
“Because there’s no one else to shoot?” Henry snapped. “Why don’t you shoot me? You seem to find that the best thing to do today!”
“Where’s the fun in shooting you?” James waved a hand carelessly as he walked. “Who will take responsibility for my actions, then?”
He did have a point. Henry was the convenient scapegoat. He would be blamed for everything. Then again, James could shoot Henry in cold blood and still get away with it.
It was just not fair.
His anger boiling, Henry followed his brother home. As he went, he couldn’t help thinking about Caroline. Was she all right? She wouldn’t need stitches for her hand, would she? Or would she get another scar on her like the one on her head?
It had taken Henry a moment to recognise her when he first came running over. Then again, there were very few girls with fiery red hair in the area. And probably even less who had that many freckles. Caroline had looked like a very awkward child five years ago. Chubby with wild hair done up but coming out of whatever style she had been put in that morning. But her green eyes had just sparkled. That was what got Henry’s attention to start with. Her eyes were stunning.
He had got a closer look at them earlier, and they had left him momentarily speechless. They seemed to be a darker green, like emeralds. Her hair was less wild, straight, and a gorgeous dark red. Even her freckles made her look attractive. Henry hadn’t thought a girl attractive before, so it had left him a little bewildered. Where had that come from?
That disappeared when Caroline started accusing him of shooting her. Henry would never have done that, but he knew that he wouldn’t be believed. She was adamant that he was the bad one, so it had to be him. Chances were, she was at home telling her parents that Henry had tried to kill her. The story would be embellished, he was sure, but Henry would come out of this looking like the one who had a serious problem.
Once his parents heard about this, he was sure they would send him away. Maybe even disinherit him and give the title of heir to James. Deep down, Henry wished they would do that. All he wanted was for people to believe that he wasn’t a bad person.
They reached their home, and Henry headed straight for the staircase as soon as he handed his pistol to the butler. He was almost halfway up the stairs when the door to the drawing room opened, and the Duchess of Cornwall came into the foyer. She looked surprised at the presence of both her children.
“Henry? James? I thought you two were going to be out for longer. Did you catch a pheasant that quickly?”
“No, Mother.” James sighed and gestured at Henry. “Henry decided we should come back after he hurt someone.”
“What?” Lady Cornwall’s eyes widened as she stared at her eldest son. “Henry, really?”
Henry glared at James, who was smirking.
“I didn’t do anything, Mother!”
“You always say that.”
“It’s true. James was the one who …”
“Don’t.” His mother raised a hand. “I don’t want to hear it. You always try to pin the blame on your brother. Why can’t you accept responsibility for once in your life?”
Henry bristled.
“I’d accept responsibility if I actually did anything, Mother. And I didn’t shoot anyone.”
From the look on his mother’s face, she wasn’t going to believe him at all. That hurt Henry to know that his own parents were never on his side. They saw James as the good boy, the one who had to hang around Henry to make sure he didn’t get into trouble. If they knew the truth …
But they don’t want to know the truth. They believe what they want to believe.
“Go to your room and stay there, Henry,” Lady Cornwall ordered sharply. I’m going to talk to your father as soon as he returns. Maybe it’s time we actually put you into the navy as we’ve been planning for some time. That should straighten you out.”
“Mother!”
“Don’t take that tone with me! You’ve been nothing but trouble for years, and now you’re starting to shoot at people?” The duchess turned away. “You need someone to get you on the right path. James can’t do it all the time. Now go to your room and wait there until I’ve spoken with your father.”
“But …”
“Not another word!”
Lady Cornwall disappeared, and James snigged from his place at the bottom of the stairs. Henry scowled.
“Why don’t you tell her the truth?”
“She’ll just think I’m trying to get you out of trouble.”
“Which you would be!” Henry snapped. “You’re going to let them send me away while you get to terrorise our neighbours?”
“I’m not going to do that.” James winked. “Because I don’t. Not when my brother Henry’s around.”
Henry snarled and slapped his hand against the wall before storming up the stairs. Not for the first time, he regretted protecting his brother from trouble when they were young. James did not deserve his loyalty.
He certainly never got any in return.