Page 37 of The Duke’s Replacement Bride (The Wild Brides #6)

“ I just don’t know what to do with myself anymore,” Caroline admitted with a sigh. “Everything went so wrong with Levi, and I’m not sure how to move forward.”

“I should never have run away,” Prudence said miserably, curling into her sister’s side. “It’s all my fault you had to marry that man.”

“Oh, Prudence, of course it isn’t,” Caroline assured her gently.

“You were right to protect your own interests. And things wouldn’t be any better right now if you had been the one to marry him.

” She sighed. “I know that people find you easier to open up to than they do me, but in the case of Levi, I don’t think even your charms would have made much of a difference in the end.

This is the kind of man he is, and there was nothing anyone was ever going to be able to do about that. ”

“I just wish he hadn’t disappointed you so badly,” Prudence said. “Of course, I’m very glad to have you at home. But I hate to see you sad. I wish there was something we could do about it.”

“Being here with you is helping me,” Caroline said. “I’m glad I made the decision to come home. It’s easier to be here, even though I know Mother and Father are disappointed in this situation.”

“They’re worried for your reputation,” Arabella said.

She was seated on the window seat, watching Caroline sympathetically.

When she had heard about Caroline’s return to the family home, she’d packed a bag and come to stay indefinitely.

Caroline was beyond grateful. She could only imagine how difficult it must have been for her sister to leave her children, even though she hoped it wouldn’t be for long.

With luck, Caroline would fall into a routine here and would be able to tell Arabella to go back home very quickly.

I should tell her that now. But the truth is that I don’t want her to go. I want her here with me. Arabella had cared for Caroline when she was growing up. She had always been the person Caroline turned to for comfort. And now, more than ever, comfort was what Caroline needed.

“What will you do with yourself now?” Arabella asked.

“You mean, to protect my reputation? I don’t know what I can do,” Caroline admitted.

“Eventually, the word is going to get out that I’m no longer living at Mowbray.

People will have their speculations as to why that is, and I don’t know what kind of answers they will come up with—but I can’t imagine it will be anything that will make Levi or me look very good. ”

“You shouldn’t be worried about how he looks,” Prudence said.

“If he wanted to protect his reputation, all he had to do was treat you better than he did. He’s the one who chose to prioritize his own needs over yours, so it’s his fault he’s in this situation now.

Don’t lose any sleep about any harm it might do to his reputation. ”

“I do still care for him, though,” Caroline said quietly. “Perhaps I shouldn’t, but I do. I know he didn’t treat me as well as he should have, and I think I was right to leave when I did. But that doesn’t mean I wish him ill.”

“That makes sense,” Arabella said gently.

Prudence scowled. “It doesn’t make sense to me. The way he acted was rotten. Why do you care what happens to him?”

“Oh, Prudence, you’ll understand this when you’re married yourself,” Arabella said fondly. “Marriage is a difficult thing. It’s possible to be very angry with the person you’re married to and still wish him well. I understand how you feel, Caroline.”

Caroline was grateful for her sister’s support, of course, but she couldn’t help feeling that Arabella didn’t actually know how she felt at all.

How could she? True, she probably had arguments and strife in her marriage, as all people no doubt did.

But there was a difference between an argument in a happy and functional marriage versus the kind of disagreement that made it impossible for two people to go on living together.

Arabella had never experienced that kind of problem.

Caroline hoped her sister never would. It was far better not to understand this kind of pain.

“I wasn’t asking about protecting your reputation anyway,” Arabella said.

“You’re right, people will find out that you’ve returned to live here, and there is nothing that can be done about that—which frees you from the obligation to worry about it, if you ask me.

You can focus instead on what would make you happy.

You never cared much for the opinions of society before you were married. What made you happiest then?”

“Well, I suppose it would have been my books,” Caroline said. “But now…things are different. I’ve had the chance to see more of the world. I’ve had more experience. I don’t know how easy it will be to just return to a simple life of reading and not really living.”

“No, I agree,” Arabella said. “You couldn’t possibly spend your days holed up in the library now. You need more. But what? Have you thought about it? Do you have any dreams you would like to pursue, now that your days are your own?”

“Dreams?” Caroline frowned. “I’ve never thought about that.”

“Maybe now would be a good time to think about it.”

“I always thought my purpose in life was to be a good and dutiful daughter,” Caroline said slowly. “But I suppose I failed in that endeavor long ago.”

“You didn’t fail at all. You always did your best,” Arabella assured her. “I as good as raised you myself, Caroline, and I can assure you that you were never a disappointment—not to me, and not to our parents.”

“They might say otherwise.”

“They would say otherwise about all three of us.”

“That’s true,” Prudence said. “I haven’t heard the end of it since I ran away from one marriage and refused another—they can’t accept that from me.”

“But you didn’t wish to marry those men. I thought Mother understood that now,” Caroline protested.

“Some days, she seems to understand, but other days are different. Just last night, after you went to bed, she was bemoaning my fate. Complaining about the fact that I was likely to be a spinster forever, and how she would never rid herself of her house full of daughters, she would never be done with her duties as a mother, never this, never that…believe me, the same complaints she always gave you are still on her lips. There is no making her happy. That doesn’t mean that any of us have failed. ”

“But I also feel that I’ve failed as a wife,” Caroline said.

“Your husband was the one who failed there, not you. You told us what happened.”

“Prudence is right,” Arabella agreed. “You told the duke what you needed to be content in your marriage and her refused you. You can’t blame yourself for that.

You can’t be angry with yourself for not persuading him to give you what you wanted when you asked him.

He had his chance and he didn’t take it.

That’s a matter for him to live with—you did all you could, Caroline. ”

Caroline didn’t know whether that made her feel better or worse.

But in thinking about Arabella’s words, she found she could concede that her sister was probably right.

“What should I do, then?” she asked. “You act as if you think I have nothing to be regretful about—as if I have done nothing wrong. You say I should find a way forward, to live a life that will make me happy. But I have no idea what that would look like for me, since I’ve lost my marriage. ”

“There are plenty of things a lady can do on her own,” Arabella said. “Now that you are married, you don’t need to worry about the question of who is going to provide for you. Your needs will be met throughout your life, and that gives you freedom. Why not travel? See the world?”

“Do you mean…by myself?” Surely her sister couldn’t mean that.

“A traveling companion could be arranged. Come, you’ve read about so many magnificent places in those books of yours, and you’ve never seen any of them for yourself. Wouldn’t you like to go to Paris? Or Greece? Wouldn’t you like to see the world?”

“It would be an adventure,” Caroline conceded. “And I could use a good time. Oh, I wish you could come with me, Arabella. Or you, Prudence. That’s what I would really enjoy—all three of us going as one another’s traveling companions.”

“I would like that too,” Arabella said gently. “But there’s no chance I can go abroad and leave my children.”

“Oh, I know. I would never ask that of you. It was only a wish.”

“Well, I have no children,” Prudence said stoutly. “I’ll go with you.”

Both Arabella and Caroline laughed. “Mother and Father would never allow that,” Arabella said. “Caroline may go because she is a married lady, but no one would allow you that same freedom while you are so young and still without a husband.”

“And if I should never marry? Will I be locked up in this house all my life?”

“I’ll take you traveling,” Arabella promised. “We’ll find an occasion and you can come with me and my family. But this trip is to be Caroline’s. Come, Caroline, tell us where you would most like to go.”

“To Spain, I think,” Caroline said, recalling one of her favorite books, which had been set in Barcelona. “I’ve always longed to see it for myself. It seems almost mythical when I read about it—it’s hard to believe, sometimes, that it’s really there.”

“You should take the opportunity. Who knows when you might get another like it?”

Caroline nodded slowly. Though the prospect was daunting, travel would be far preferable to sitting around the house with nothing to do besides contemplate everything she had lost. “You’re right,” she said.

“I should go. And I will go. It’s a good way to get out of my thoughts and focus on all the good things I still have in my life, and that’s something I don’t want to allow myself to forget. ”

Arabella smiled at her. “I’m very proud of you, you know.”

“I wasn’t even able to make a marriage work, Arabella. You shouldn’t be proud of me.”

“But I am. It took courage for you to leave Mowbray. Don’t think I don’t realize how much strength that required.

I know you feel now as if maybe you made the wrong choice, but I have always told you that the only thing that matters to me is your happiness.

I can see that you were unhappy in your life with the duke, so you did the right thing by coming home. We’ll figure out the rest together.”

Caroline nodded, recognizing the kindness of what her sister was saying, but she also felt pinpricks of shame and regret.

Because it wasn’t that simple. Not really.

Because she hadn’t been unhappy.

Not always.

She thought back to the night she had fallen asleep in his arms. The moment of comfort she had felt just before closing her eyes—it had been more than comfort, really. It was pure bliss. And it pained her to know that she had lost that, that she would never feel it or anything like it again.

But there was no going back now.

All she could do was move forward. And for the time being, perhaps that meant Spain.

At least I might stand a chance of getting him off my mind.

But somehow, she doubted she would be able to do that.