"I wish you'd reconsider." He gave her a most charming smile. Freshly shaven, his hair drawn back from his intelligent forehead, he was temptation itself. Caroline knew where that led. Then he extended a conciliatory hand.

His earnest effort was annoying, but she got up, crossed the room, and sat. She put her head back on the chair, closed her eyes and hummed.

"Give me five minutes, Caro, then I'll bring up a tray. It's a bit early for supper, but you missed lunch. I won't be joining you-I don't want a soup bowl thrown at my head."

Caroline's stomach rumbled. "I trust you won't drug the food."

"Of course not. And you needn't worry about what you ingested earlier. Dr. Wyatt told me it was perfectly harmless."

Yet another name to add to her list of enemies. At least her cat was faithful. "Where's Harold?"

"Prowling about. He and Ben are outside somewhere, exploring. I don't believe the boy has ever seen an open field in his life."

No, he hadn't. When Caroline found him, he'd been white as milk and stick-thin, begging on a seedy street corner. Over the objections of Garrett Marburn, who had accompanied her to a poor part of the city in the name of literary research, she had whisked Ben away in Garrett's carriage. It had taken several days to get him clean and calm and integrated into her household. It had been a tiny step toward the motherhood she would never have.

"I hope they don't get lost."

"I gave him my compa.s.s. He's a bright lad."

"When he wants to be." She knew Ben was in awe of Edward, the little traitor. "Are your five minutes up?"

"Almost. Tomorrow morning after breakfast I'd like to see you in Bradlaw's library."

"Do you want me naked or in this pillowcase?"

Edward winced. "Your trunk is outside in the hallway. I'm sorry I forgot about it." He stood. "I'll fetch it now."

He left the door ajar. For one mad moment Caroline contemplated pushing past him and running down the flights of stairs.

She wouldn't get far with sheets on her feet.

Edward carried the small trunk into the dressing room. Caroline had not packed much for her trip to Dorset, just a few changes for the several days' travel. But a flagon of jasmine perfume was rolled up between her petticoats, and she would drown herself in it as soon as Edward left. "I'll leave you to unpack. Supper will be very simple. I hope you won't mind."

Caroline was hungry enough to eat the leather slippers she was thrilled to see at the bottom of her things. She waved Edward away and hung up her dresses, just to get the wrinkles out. She was not moving in. Not staying, no matter what Edward planned.

When Edward returned with the tray, she fell on the vegetable soup with joy. Her bread was already b.u.t.tered, the rare beef and cheese sliced-he'd taken the precaution of not including a knife. She bit directly into the juiciest peach of her life, its nectar dripping onto her pillowcase dress. She drank every ounce of the sweet red wine that filled her gla.s.s and wished there were more. She wanted to sleep tonight and wake up this morning all over again. Her day would be vastly different this time.

Morning found her in the same strange room, garbed in her own nightdress, a slant of bright sunshine slipping through a gap in the dark velvet. Caroline sprang up and rushed to the window. She looped back the drapes with their ta.s.seled gold cords. There was no one about on the courtyard-no one with a tall ladder or a team of acrobats who could scale the walls and set her free. Her hair was not as long as Rapunzel's, and in any case, there was no prince to climb it. The point was to get out, not invite another vexing man into her boudoir.

Her hair was more tangled than ever. Good thing Edward had spotted the scissors and taken them away, or she'd be sorely tempted to cut the whole mess off. She sat at the dressing table, viewing two dozen little Carolines with two dozen hairbrushes in the cracked mirror. She needed to make herself ready for the morning's negotiation with Edward, her first and hopefully her last.

There was a rap at the door, then the turning of the key. Hazlett entered red-faced, whether from climbing the stairs, the weight of the breakfast tray or his mortification as her husband's accomplice.

"Good morning, my lady. I bring you Mrs. Hazlett's sincere and abject apology for her part in your abduction. We have nothing but your best interests at heart, you know." He set the tray down on the dressing table quickly, as if he were afraid to come too close, as well he should be.

"So you said, you old liar. How much did it cost Lord Christie to steal your souls?" Caroline asked in a forbidding voice.

"Why, nothing much above our usual weekly salary, my lady. Lord Christie was quite convincing in his ardor. Mrs. Hazlett and I thought you should give him another chance."

"Did you?" Caroline uncovered a dish of perfectly poached eggs on tiny toast squares. Their yolks would match the gold wallpaper, but she was not about to waste the meal on the walls. Who knew when she might find sustenance again? There was a dish of blackberries swimming in rich yellow cream, two enormous sticky buns, and a pot of chocolate. It looked like Mrs. Hazlett had made herself right at home in her new kitchen.

"Lord Christie instructed me to tell you to take your time enjoying breakfast. He will await you at your convenience in the library. Please ring when you're ready to come downstairs." He lifted the tapestry's corner to reveal a bellpull. Hazlett waited, looking hopeful. He could stand there rooted all day, and Caroline would not forgive him or his wife. She gave him the evilest of eyes.

"Is there anything else I can get you?"

She stabbed into an egg. "Oh, just my freedom. My life back! I don't suppose you'd hand over the key to this room so I won't have to ring any d.a.m.n bells?"

Hazlett stiffened. "It is for your own good, Lady Christie. You are such a stubborn girl."

"I'm hardly a girl, Hazlett. I know my own mind, and it will not be changed. You're dismissed. In every sense of the word."

Hazlett drooped a bit as he left, but still turned the key in the lock.

Caroline drank her chocolate, ate her eggs and berries slowly, savoring every sip and bite. Edward could hang before she went downstairs. Although the buns tempted her, she wrapped them in a linen napkin. They would make a fine feast on the road when she caught the mailcoach in Ashford.

She had money in her reticule, but unsurprisingly Edward had not seen fit to bring it upstairs with her trunk. He must think her too besotted by her jewels to ever think of selling them, but sell them she would to buy a ticket home.

Where was home? Edward might have already arranged the sale of the Jane Street house to any one of the eager men lined up to install their mistresses there. But she hadn't signed her life interest away. While she still had breath in her body, the house was hers.

At some point while she slept, fresh water and towels had been delivered to the dressing room, although the bathtub was out on the carpet, still full. An oversight by Edward, but then he wasn't used to playing lady's maid. She blushed to think what she and her husband had done in it. Whatever else he was, he knew her body and how to bring it to pleasure.

Caroline washed and dressed with care, folding the black cloak over her arm. The bundle of buns was pinned to its lining with two enamel brooches. If he didn't agree to drive her to Ashford, she was in hopes Edward would let her outside to walk in Lady Bradlaw's garden. Alone. The pocket of her dark blue travelling dress was stuffed with jewelry. For good measure, she'd pinned the diamond spray on her shoulder. It was a minor Christie family heirloom, and would be the first to go to the p.a.w.nshop.

The soles of her leather slippers were thin, but Caroline knew she wouldn't abuse them for more than four or five miles. Six at the most. She wished she'd paid more attention to the mileposts when she'd lived at Christie Park. Walking over to the glowing tapestry, she yanked the bellpull hard.

Ben came up in place of Hazlett, who was probably lying down somewhere recovering from his earlier climb. The boy gave her a cheeky grin.

" 'ello, Lady C! Sorry if I gave you the flimflam. The country ain't near as bad as I thought. Lord C says he'll take me fishin' if he has time."

Fishing! She hoped they would drown. "Please see to it that the water in the tub is removed at once and return it to the dressing room. I am very disappointed in you, Ben."

"Aye, my lady. Knew you would be. But not all of us are cut out for schoolin'."

"I'm not talking about your lessons, you little heathen! I opened my home to you and you have repaid me by helping Lord Christie take me by force and keep me a prisoner against my will."

Ben looked around the comfortable room. "Don't look like no prison I've ever been in."

"You've been in prison?" This was something new.

"Not for more than a day or three. 'Twas a mix-up, Lady C. You can trust me now."

"Can I? When you'll do anything for the villain who promises to take you fishing?"

Ben chewed the inside of his cheek. "Lord C's most persuasive. Goes on and on about that Shakespeare play. Taming of the-Something. Some rodent, I reckon. Tell you what. If you ain't happy here-after a day or three-I'll help you escape. You been good ta me. No skin off my nose."

Caroline was momentarily speechless between Ben's mangling of Shakespeare and his offer to help her. So Edward fancied himself as Petrucchio? He had the wrong play entirely. She was Lady Macbeth.

"Thank you, Ben. I knew you would come through for me. I'll make it worth your while." She patted her pin for good effect.

"Don't need diamonds, Lady C. They'd only clap me in gaol again. Some blunt would be good, though."

"If you find my reticule wherever Lord Christie hid it, you're welcome to half."

"I'll keep an eye out. But you've got to give him a chance."

"What?" Caroline's vision of riding back in style to London dimmed.

"Lord C. He's gone to a lot of trouble. The Hazletts haven't slept a wink for weeks what with him badgerin' them. They're old and they need their rest. Give the man three days, my lady. If he don't come up to snuff, I'll filch the key again and set you free. Deal?" He extended a grubby hand.

"Two days, and not a minute more."

Ben gave a long suffering sigh. Who knew the little ruffian was such a romantic?

"Deal." They shook hands. Caroline laid the cloak down on the bed. It would be easier to have a proper plan in place than a chance flight from Bradlaw House. And Edward might get suspicious if she suddenly smelled of cinnamon buns rather than jasmine.

"You won't say a word of our arrangement to anyone, will you, Ben? I cannot trust the Hazletts any longer."

He straightened his spine, insulted. "I don't peach. Your secret's safe with me."

"Tell Hazlett you'll bring me my meals-that the stairs are too much for him."

"Shouldn't have no trouble convincin' him o' that. Poor blighter's took to his bed."

"Good. Serves him right."

"Lord C says he's movin' you to a different room. One o' the regular housemaids from the village is comin' to truck your things downstairs. Said his plan weren't watertight after all."

Caroline grinned. Edward must have been exhausted himself trudging up and down the stairs with her bath water. If she were closer to the ground, her climbing skills could be pressed into service once again if need be. It would be suicidal to try to escape from up that high.

She gave a squirming Ben an impulsive hug. "Excellent. I'll talk to you later in my new room. How do I get to the library?"

"Turn left at the bottom of the staircase. Three doors down. Cor, but there are a lot of books in there. Who would want to read them all?"

Caroline, if she were to amuse herself for the next two days. "Wait. We are counting today as the first of our days, are we not? After tomorrow you'll help me?"

Ben looked innocent. "Did you think I meant that? The day's half over now. It's nearly noon. Don't seem fair to count it as a whole day."

h.e.l.l and d.a.m.nation. At least he knew his sums. "Fine. But after noon on Thursday, I will be leaving Bradlaw House with or without your a.s.sistance."

"That's fair. Do you think I can just throw this bathwater out the window?"

Caroline didn't stop to advise him. She had an appointment with Petrucchio.

Chapter 19.

No one could force Magdelena to do the impossible. Not her father. Not her poor dead nanny. Not her brother Reynaldo. Certainly not the villain who had kept her prisoner in chains to slake his sinful appet.i.tes.

-Devil in Disguise.

Edward was seated behind a ma.s.sive mahogany desk, a livid bruise matching it on his cheek. Caroline bit back a smile of satisfaction at its colorful progression and curtseyed. "Good morning, my lord."

"It's good afternoon, Caroline. I trust you slept well? You're looking lovely."

"Yes, even without any drugging, I slept like a baby. The bed was very comfortable. In fact, the entire room is absolute perfection. I just love it. For a prison cell it is first cla.s.s. I've never considered the combination of old gold and chocolate brown before when I decorated, but I believe I'll have to give it a try in my new cottage."

Edward's dismay was comical to behold. "I hope you won't mind, Caro. I've arranged to move you to a more convenient location."

"More convenient for whom? I daresay it's good exercise for all of us to climb one hundred and twelve broad steps. I've never felt so fit."

"You've just walked down," Edward said. "Your new room is equally comfortable. And the mirror is intact."

"What color is it?"

"How the he-I'm afraid I can't remember. Some sort of blue, I think. Or gray."

"Any vases?" she asked sweetly.

"None. No Dresden shepherdesses, no bibelots of any kind."

"That's not very sporting of you."

Edward rubbed his cheek. "Be that as it may, I'm not here to talk decorating schemes, Caro." He leaned back in the padded leather chair and smiled as though he had a great treat in store for her. "Most ton marriages are business arrangements at heart-joining property or political ambitions. Lawyers spend hours on settlements and wills and codicils. If the couple comes to respect each other and hold each other in some affection after all that paperwork, it's considered miraculous."

"Are you dying, Edward? Is that your will there?"

He swept the papers under the blotter. "You sound awfully hopeful, Caro."

She shrugged. "You can't expect me to respect you and hold you in some affection after yesterday."

"I remember yesterday somewhat differently. The afternoon in particular."

The smug b.a.s.t.a.r.d. "I'm fixated on the morning. My abduction, you know."

"If I had thought there was any other way to get you here, I would not have resorted to subterfuge."

"Well, should the Christies ever lack funds, you can go about the country kidnapping heiresses." She leaned back in her chair. "I am waiting, Edward. What is your proposal for our future? You know mine. A cottage in Dorset. Are those papers you're hiding the deed? Where do I sign?"

"Um. Not a deed, precisely." Edward removed the papers from the blotter and shuffled them. He looked shifty. Nervous. Caroline went on alert.

"I've taken the liberty of making a little list for you. For us, really. I thought it best to put my expectations in writing."

"Your expectations? I have no interest in your expectations. But I expect," she said archly, "you know that."