sisters. How many?”
“My half-sisters, really. There are four of us, altogether.”
The lightness of the answer made Max instantly suspicious. “How old?”
There was a noticeable hesitation before Caroline answered, “Twenty, nineteen and eighteen.”
The effect on Max was electric. “Good Lord! They didn’t accompany you here, did they?”
Bewildered, Caroline replied, “No. I left them at the hotel.”
“Thank God for that,” said Max. Encountering Caroline’s enquiring gaze, he smiled. “If anyone had seen them entering here, it would have been around town in a flash that I was setting up a harem.”
The smile made Caroline blink. At his words, her grey eyes widened slightly. She could hardly pretend not to understand. Noticing the peculiar light in the blue eyes as they rested on her, it seemed a very good thing she was the Duke’s ward. From her admittedly small understanding of the morals of his type, she suspected her position would keep her safe as little else might.
Unbeknown to her, Max was thinking precisely the same thing. And resolving to divest himself of his latest inherited responsibility with all possible speed. Aside from having no wish whatever to figure as the guardian of four young ladies of marriageable age, he needed to clear the obstacles from his path to Caroline Twinning. It occurred to him that her explanation of her life history had been curiously glib and decidedly short on detail. “Start at the beginning. Who was your mother and when did she die?”
Caroline had come unprepared to recite her history, imagining the Duke to be cognizant of the facts. Still, in the circumstances, she could hardly refuse. “My mother was Caroline Farningham, of the Staffordshire Farninghams.”
Max nodded. An ancient family, well-known and well-connected.
Caroline’s gaze had wandered to the rows of books lining the shelves behind the Duke. “She died shortly after I was born. I never knew her. After some years, my father married again, this time to the daughter of a local family who were about to leave for the colonies. Eleanor was very good to me and she looked after all of us comfortably, until she died six years ago. Of course, my father was disappointed that he never had a son and he rarely paid any attention to the four of us, so it was all left up to Eleanor.”
The more he heard of him, the more Max was convinced that Sir Thomas Twinning had had a screw loose. He had clearly been a most unnatural parent. Still, the others were only Miss Twinning’s half-sisters. Presumably they were not all as ravishing as she. It occurred to him that he should ask for clarification on this point but, before he could properly phrase the question, another and equally intriguing matter came to mind.
“Why was it none of you was presented before? If your father was sufficiently concerned to organize a guardian for you, surely the easiest solution would have been to have handed you into the care of husbands?”
Caroline saw no reason not to satisfy what was, after all, an entirely understandable curiosity. “We were never presented because my father disapproved of such…oh, frippery pastimes! To be perfectly honest, I sometimes thought he disapproved of women in general.”
Max blinked.
Caroline continued, “As for marriage, he had organized that after a fashion. I was supposed to have married Edgar Mulhall, our neighbour.” Involuntarily, her face assumed an expression of distaste.
Max was amused. “Wouldn’t he do?”
Caroline’s gaze returned to the saturnine face. “You haven’t met him or you wouldn’t need to ask. He’s…” She wrinkled her nose as she sought for an adequate description. “Righteous,” she finally pronounced.
At that, Max laughed. “Clearly out of the question.”
Caroline ignored the provocation in the blue eyes. “Papa had similar plans for my sisters, only, as he never noticed they were of marriageable age and I never chose to bring it to his attention, nothing came of them either.”
Perceiving Miss Twinning’s evident satisfaction, Max made a mental note to beware of her manipulative tendencies. “Very well. So much for the past. Now to the future. What was your arrangement with my uncle?”
The grey-green gaze was entirely innocent as it rested on his face. Max did not know whether to believe it or not.
“Well, it was really his idea, but it seemed a perfectly sensible one to me. He suggested we should be presented to the ton. I suspect he intended to find us suitable husbands and so bring his guardianship to an end.” She paused, thinking. “I’m not aware of the terms of my father’s will, but I assume such arrangements terminate should we marry?”
“Very likely,” agreed Max. The throbbing in his head had eased considerably. His uncle’s plan had much to recommend it, but, personally, he would much prefer not to have any wards at all. And he would be damned if he would have Miss Twinning as his ward—that would cramp his style far too much. There were a few things even reprobates such as he held sacred and guardianship was one.
He knew she was watching him but made no further comment, his eyes fixed frowningly on his blotter as he considered his next move. At last, looking up at her, he said, “I’ve heard nothing of this until now. I’ll have to get my solicitors to sort it out. Which firm handles your affairs?”
“Whitney and White. In Chancery Lane.”
“Well, at least that simplifies matters. They handle the Twyford estates as well as my others.” He laid the ice-pack down and looked at Caroline, a slight frown in his blue eyes. “Where are you staying?”
“Grillon’s. We arrived yesterday.”
Another thought occurred to Max. “On what have you been living for the last eighteen months?”
“Oh, we all had money left us by our mothers. We arranged to draw on that and leave our patrimony untouched.”
Max nodded slowly. “But who had you in charge? You can’t have travelled halfway around the world alone.”
For the first time during this strange interview, Max saw Miss Twinning blush, ever so slightly. “Our maid and coachman, who acted as our courier, stayed with us.”
The airiness of the reply did not deceive Max. “Allow me to comment, Miss Twinning, as your potential guardian, that such an arrangement will not do. Regardless of what may have been acceptable overseas, such a situation will not pass muster in London.” He paused, considering the proprieties for what was surely the first time in his life. “At least you’re at Grillon’s for the moment. That’s safe enough.”
After another pause, during which his gaze did not leave Caroline’s face, he said, “I’ll see Whitney this morning and settle the matter. I’ll call on you at two to let you know how things have fallen out.” A vision of himself meeting a beautiful young lady and attempting to converse with her within the portals of fashionable Grillon’s, under the fascinated gaze of all the other patrons, flashed before his eyes. “On second thoughts, I’ll take you for a drive in the Park. That way,” he continued in reply to the question in her grey-green eyes, “we might actually get a chance to talk.”
He tugged the bell pull and Hillshaw appeared. “Have the carriage brought around. Miss Twinning is returning to Grillon’s.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Oh, no! I couldn’t put you to so much trouble,” said Caroline.
“My dear child,” drawled Max, “my wards would certainly not go about London in hacks. See to it, Hillshaw.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Hillshaw withdrew, for once in perfect agreement with his master.
Caroline found the blue eyes, which had quizzed her throughout this exchange, still regarding her, a gently mocking light in their depths. But she was a lady of no little courage and smiled back serenely, unknowingly sealing her fate.