So now he had a choice. He could allow himself to be routed by a sharp-tongued widow in drab weeds or he could endure her dislike for half an hour at Mrs Philpott’s house. No, damn it, he thought, guiding the pair into the lane, Mrs Philpott had young relatives, so he had been told, and he was not going to deprive Alice of some possible playmates because of Mrs Jordan’s prejudices.
And there she was, strolling along the lane in front of him as though she did not have a care in the world. No maid with her again, he noticed, and certainly no footman. But this was broad daylight in a placid little village, so perhaps there was no conclusion to be drawn from that about her resources, her respectability or her background.
His horses were walking, the ground was soft and it seemed she had not heard him. Avery allowed the pair to draw alongside her without speaking and noticed the start she gave when one of them snorted. She was so composed in voice and expression and yet her body seemed to betray her feelings as though she had no command over her nerves. He recalled the flush of pink at the nape of her neck when she realised he was in the room and must have heard her cutting words. He had wanted to touch that warm skin, he had wondered how far the blush had spread...
‘Mrs Jordan. Good afternoon once more. May I take you up as far as Mrs Philpott’s house?’
Her eyes flickered to Gregg’s sturdy figure. ‘Thank you, Lord Wykeham, but I am enjoying the exercise.’ She turned and walked on.
So, she did not want to talk in front of his groom. Fair enough. ‘Gregg, take the reins,’ he said. ‘Be outside Laurel Lodge in half an hour.’ This needed settling.
She did not glance at it as the curricle passed her, but he made no attempt to keep his long stride silent, so her lack of surprise when he reached her side was only to be expected. This time she was completely in control of her reactions. ‘My lord? I hardly feel I require an escort for a few hundred yards up a country lane.’
‘But I require a conversation.’
‘And an apology, no doubt. Please accept my regrets for my discourteous words at the vicarage, my lord.’
‘I wish you would stop calling me my lord.’ It was not what he had meant to say and her startled glance showed he had surprised her as much as himself.
‘And what should I call you?’
‘My name is Avery, Caroline.’
‘And are we on such terms that we call each other by our Christian names? I believe I would recall it if we were childhood friends or cousins.’
‘I would be friends. I am unclear what I have done to make you dislike me. If I have offended you in some way, I would like to repair that.’
‘How could you have offended me?’ she asked without looking at him. ‘We have only just met. And why should you wish me as a friend?’
‘Alice likes you. More feminine influence in her life is desirable, I think.’
She caught her breath and something in the whisper of sound seemed to touch him at the base of the spine. So that’s what this is... I desire this prickly, difficult, wan-faced widow. Avery stopped and, as though he had put out a hand to restrain her, she did, too. ‘Look at me.’
Caroline half-turned to face him and studied his face, her own expression grave. As she had in the park, she seemed to look with an intensity that probed not just his appearance, but his thoughts and his character. Every muscle under the fine skin of her face seemed taut, there was wariness, almost fear in the dark eyes, and now something else. Something he would wager she did not want to feel at all.
‘Whatever else there is between us,’ Avery murmured, thinking out loud, ‘there is physical attraction.’
‘You flatter yourself!’ She looked as outraged as he might have expected and also utterly taken aback.
‘No, there is nothing to be vain about in an instinctive reaction. But I am right, am I not?’ He had dragged off his right glove as they spoke and now he touched his fingers to her cheek. Warm, soft skin. The muscles flinched a little beneath his touch, but she did not step back, or brush his hand away or slap him. ‘Has someone hurt you, Caroline?’
He read the answer in her eyes, an almost bottomless lack of trust, but her reply showed no weakness. ‘Again, you flatter yourself to believe that my unwillingness to flirt with you is due to some flaw in my own experience.’
‘I do not seek to flirt.’ And he did not, he realised. Such superficiality would only make the itch to touch her far, far worse. ‘I only want your company for my daughter and to understand what it is that sparks between us and yet seems to cause you so much pain.’
Her lids fell, covering the darkness of her eyes. When she opened them she seemed to have come to a decision. ‘I have no reason to trust men, least of all strong, authoritative men who seek to order the lives of others. But it is a long time since... I cannot help it if there is some awareness in me of a virile man. I do not wish to discuss this.’
Or act upon it, that was very clear. What manner of man had her husband been? A tyrant? A domineering bully? And yet a man who had awakened her sensually. The two things were not mutually exclusive, he told himself.
‘I do not seek to take advantage of you, merely, as I said, to understand.’
‘And understanding people is your stock in trade, is it not?’ Caroline Jordan began to walk slowly towards their destination. His uncharacteristically impulsive words had not, it seemed, deepened her distrust of him.
‘It is. I study their motives, their strengths and weaknesses. The points on which they will yield and the points upon which they will stand fast until death.’
‘I will visit Alice, if you wish,’ she said, almost as though her words followed on from what he had just said. The charged intimacy still surrounded them like a mist and yet she seemed capable of ignoring it. ‘Does she have a governess?’
‘No, but I intend to employ one for her very soon. She is naturally very bright, I think. However, I do not want to stifle her enthusiasm and energy through rigorous teaching.’
‘You must choose carefully.’ She seemed calmer now, more at ease with him. Avery pulled on his glove and fell into step beside her. ‘A young woman, one with a natural manner and energy herself would be best. Alice is just like I—’
‘Yes?’
‘Like I recall my best friend Imogen was at about that age. An older, more formal woman would stifle her character.’
It was not what she had meant to say, he suspected. ‘Caroline,’ Avery said and she did not react. ‘Caroline?’
‘Oh! I beg your pardon, I was woolgathering. You should not call me by my given name, you know.’
Woolgathering? In the middle of a conversation that started with a discussion of sexual attraction and moved on to a subject she professes an interest in? It was almost as though she did not recognise her own name...
‘I was considering the question of governesses,’ Caroline said. ‘I know women are supposed to be able to think of seven different things at once, but I fear I cannot.’
It was the closest she had come to making a joke in his presence. Avery reproved himself for his suspicions. That was what came of spending too much time in the company of professional dissemblers, outright spies and manipulative women.
He heard Caroline take a deep breath as though either shedding a burden or taking one up. ‘That must be Laurel Lodge, Avery. Do you think it would be discreet to arrive separately?’ Then she answered her own question even as he was masking his surprise at her use of his name. ‘Foolish to pretend, for they will all get together and gossip about us anyway.’ As he opened the gate for her she slanted a look at him. ‘And foolish to allow them to think there is anything to hide.’
‘You are quite correct.’ Avery knocked, wondering at the composure