The Wicked Governess (Blackhaven Brides Book 6)(56)

Mrs. Gallini sat back, smiling, as Lady Serena drew away from the pillar and two gentlemen entered the box. As the world went on around her, Caroline felt a little as if she’d been struck on the head. Javan doubted her to some extent at least because he doubted himself. In his heart, he suspected she preferred Richard.

What she didn’t know, of course, was how he felt about her. A few kisses to a man, a soldier, didn’t necessarily mean anything. He’d been starved of female company for some time, and the times he’d touched her had been in moments of stress or drunkenness. Her heart tightened painfully. She didn’t want to be just anyone to him. She wanted to be his all, as he, God help her, was hers.

Tears gathered threateningly in her throat, but fortunately, the curtain went up again and she could focus on the stage.

It was only as they finally left the theatre that the inevitable encounter between Javan and Swayle occurred. Although he’d wandered out of the box to stretch his legs a few times, he never seemed to have met the man he regarded as his enemy.

Perhaps Swayle grew too bold. Though he really didn’t want to encounter Javan, Benedict’s over-casual attitude must have given Swayle the wrong impression of his observational skills. In company with Serena and Tamar, Caroline was following the Benedicts out the theatre door when Swayle stepped up to her from the shadows.

“Miss Grey,” he said nervously. He licked his lips, his gaze flickering to right and left. As well it might, for several people seemed to be avidly watching the encounter.

Caroline inclined her head and would have walked on, only he took a step nearer. “Please, Miss Grey, I wish only to be assured of your wellbeing.”

To her relief, for she did not want there to be a fight, Richard had walked on without noticing. Javan, however, paused and turned slowly to face her and Swayle. The eyes of the two men met, the one large, scarred, and just a little frightening, the other slight and fragile and, apparently, bravely facing up to the monster.

Don’t hit him. Please don’t hit him…

With an effort, Caroline forced her shoulders to relax and bestowed the most dazzling smile she could summon. “As you see, sir, I am very well. Very well indeed.” She stepped nearer Javan and set the tips of her fingers on his proffered arm. Paying no more attention to Swayle, she prattled, “Did you enjoy the play, sir? I found it quite charming.”

“Nicely done,” Javan murmured. “Thank you.”

“It does not suit my dignity to be thought afraid of you,” she said coolly.

“Nor mine.”

There was time for little more. Lord and Lady Tamar were going to the hotel for supper, and so said farewell to Caroline and the Benedicts.

“Did that little slubber speak to you, Caroline?” Richard demanded as he climbed into the coach beside her.

“He timed it well. I think he meant to separate me from you both and see what trouble he could cause in front of the crowd.”

“She sent him about his business with a most believable display of happiness,” Javan observed. “I don’t really understand why he’s still here.”

“I expect he thinks you won’t hit him now that he has a walking stick,” Richard said.

Javan curled his lip.

“Seriously,” Richard added, “I think he’s looking for revenge against you for making him look like the cur he is when Louisa died.”

Javan scowled. “I don’t want him skulking in Blackhaven when Rosa’s there.”





Chapter Sixteen





The following morning, for the first time in several days, Caroline woke with a feeling of optimism. The silly engagement to Richard could easily be fixed and the world made right if Javan only cared for her a little. And as she began to understand him more, she thought he did. Now, she could try to help him heal.

She sat up as the maid crept in with her washing bowl.

“Oh, you’re awake, Miss,” the girl said. “Good. There’s a letter here, came for you yesterday, but you’d gone out already.”

As the maid laid it on the bedside table, Caroline saw that it was from her sister Eliza, which was rare enough to intrigue her. Breaking the seal, she spread out the sheet and began to read.

A second later, she held the back of her hand to her cheek in fear and shock. Peter was worse, dangerously so, and more money was necessary for the doctor.

She was out of bed and throwing on her clothes before she’d even finished reading, let alone planned what she must do. It was still early, so if she could persuade Williams to drive her to Carlisle immediately, she might just catch the Edinburgh mail coach and be home by the evening. Hastily, she threw her spare gown and undergarments into her bag and left by the passage door.

Hurtling downstairs, she almost crashed into Richard, coming in the opposite direction.

“Woah, there,” he exclaimed. “Where’s the fire?”

“Home,” Caroline said distraught. “I have to go home. Do you think I could borrow Williams to drive me to Carlisle? Oh, and if I don’t have time to write, can you tell Rosa I’ll only be gone a few days, and apologize to Mr. and Miss Benedict—”

“Slow down,” Richard begged. “If there is a family emergency, of course I’ll drive you to Carlisle—or all the way home, if you prefer. Let me get my man and then we’ll go.”