My Darling Caroline Read Free Page A

undermine—”
    “I agree to the marriage, Father.”
    For the first time in his life, Charles Grayson looked as if he would faint. His skin became pasty white, and his expansive forehead beaded immediately with perspiration.
    “I want you to know, Caroline,” he croaked out, tapping his cuff against his cheek, “that I’ve done this for your future. I want nothing more than your happiness.”
    Caroline slowly moved toward him. She’d never before seen her father so…disoriented, and the picture he presented unnerved her a little.
    “Why do you want this union, Father?” she slowly asked. “Have you something to gain from it?”
    He instantly became guarded. “It’s best for you.” Turning to the door, and with one last glance in her direction, he murmured, “The earl is waiting for you in my study. Don’t disappoint me, Caroline.”
    Before she could summon a reply, he strode into the hall and disappeared from view.
    Caroline could have dealt with his threats, his coldness or anger, but never in her life could she have dealt with disappointing him more than she already had. Fighting tears, she looked to the rose in her hand, the only piece of joy in her miserable life. This was God’s creation. This small, delicate marvel of life was hers to manipulate into a bounty of beauty. It calmed her to know that she had been given such a gift, and she refused to let anything or anybody take it from her. Ever.
    With biting determination, she turned, lifted her chin defiantly, and walked across the hall. It appeared her future husband wanted to meet her alone, and that was fine with her. She prided herself on being in de pen dent and self-assured, and she knew that if nothing else, she would be able to handle the man with her superior intelligence. That thought in mind, she put her hand on the knob and marched into her father’s study.
    She was surprised to find the earl staring out a window rather than watching for her, and although he had to have heard her enter, he didn’t turn but stayed instead with his back to her, legs spread apart, hands on hips as he regarded the grassy meadow outside with apparent interest.
    She waited for him to speak first, knowing that the man was probably trying to decide how he should gently ask her to marry him without prior introduction. Then he cut into her thoughts of growing annoyance with a frigid baritone voice.
    “I’ll assume you’re a virgin?”
    Caroline was so completely caught off guard by his bold, harsh words, that for the first time in her adult life she didn’t know how to respond. Cheeks flushing, she mumbled, “I beg your pardon?”
    “You heard me,” he replied evenly, still looking out the window.
    His audacity sparked her anger. Closing her arms over her chest and gathering her wits she returned boldly, “I heard you, Lord Weymerth. I was simply unsure whether you were asking a question or posing a statement.”
    Slowly, he turned to look at her. She kept her eyes locked on his features with complete determination, noticing first his hollow cheeks, his almost haunted expression. His eyes were hazel but more green than brown, his jaw hard and square, and his hair a very dark blond and longer than the current fashion as it curled behind his ears to fall to his collar. He wore dark riding breeches and a light cotton shirt, opened in front just enough to indecently expose a scattering of curls on his broad chest, and he looked somehow as if he’d been riding for days. His attire and appearance were most unbecoming and far too casual for a gentleman caller, especially one calling at such an unseemly hour. No manners, apparently.
    He was tall, probably six feet, and far too slender, although really not at all bad to look at, as Stephanie had so bluntly stated. With a little added weight and proper clothing, he would probably be quite handsome in a rather unconventional way. Now he simply appeared tired and just as wary as she.
    His gaze slowly, inappropriately,