Page 15 of The Secret Love of a Gentleman (The Marlow Family Secrets #3)

Drew and Mary went out for a ride after breakfast. So, Caroline walked up to the nursery to spend time alone with the children.

She assumed Robbie had gone riding too, but he was sprawled across the nursery floor, lying on his side, his weight balanced on one elbow, so he could lean across and move members of an army of lead soldiers.

‘Boom!’ He sent an imaginary blast from his lead cannon, pointing it towards George’s line of riflemen, then reached across and knocked the men flat.

She expected George to become angry, but he laughed.

‘I respect you immensely.’

Respect… She had spent the past years feeling nothing but shame. She was taught to feel shame as a child because of her birth. No one had said they respected her…

The word had thrown her into turmoil yesterday, as the past rose up in her memories, good and bad.

‘What a big step it must have been to give up so much…’ Yes, she had given up everything: her home, her position in society, love…

life. Then, she had been able to hold her head high, denying in public what happened in pr ivate, and she had been a wife, with responsibility and purpose, not a leach.

Her barren womb had made her become a burden to Albert; that failure was her greatest shame.

She turned to leave; unsure what she might do, but she could not play games of war.

‘Caroline.’

Rob was getting up, his long legs a tangle of limbs.

‘May we speak privately for a moment?’

‘I respect you immensely…’

She nodded her agreement.

‘We shall return in a moment, George, and continue the game. Move our horses to the far side and set up a cavalry charge.’ So that was why George had laughed, they were on the same side.

Robbie lifted a hand, encouraging Caro to leave the room ahead of him.

She stopped on the landing, only a couple of feet away from the open door.

Robbie closed the door, concealing their conversation from the ears of the nursery maid.

When he stood close to her the inches he had on her height were unsettling, he may even be a foot taller.

His hand lifted. Instinctively she stepped away from it.

A frown creased his forehead. ‘Caroline, I must apologise again. You will become bored of hearing me say sorry, because I seem to always be putting my foot in my mouth. I should not have mentioned your marriage yesterday. It was crass of me. I am sorry I upset you, again. I hope you will continue to give me a chance to be your friend.’ The hand that had lifted swept back his hair, brushing his fringe from his forehead.

‘I did not intend to make you feel uncomfortable. I remembered everyone applauding Drew a few years ago, you see, and I wanted you to know I realised I should have applauded you. Will you forgive me? ’

‘You need not ask for forgiveness. I became emotional because your words stirred up memories. I am sorry I made you feel uncomfortable. You are a guest here. It was rude of me to walk away.’

‘Aun’ie Ca’o! Aun’ie Ca’o!’ The nursery doorknob rattled.

‘Master George! Come back and play, your aunt will be here in a moment.’

Caro turned to the door.

Robbie’s fingers closed about her upper arm.

The touch twisted the nerves in her stomach.

‘May I ask one thing of you, Caroline? Please join us for dinner in the evenings. I feel as though I am intruding on Mary and Drew, as I am sure you must when you are here alone. I presume that is why you often stay upstairs. So why not make the most of my company.’

‘Au’nie Ca’o! Play!’ George shouted as the doorknob rattled again.

Caro looked at the door then back at Robbie. She was becoming accustomed to his touch on her arm.

‘Shall we take him outside?’ Robbie said. ‘He is shouting for you not me. He must be bored of our war game. We could play on the lawn with him; the day is not too hot yet.’

She looked into grey-blue eyes that expressed nothing but… friendship. ‘That is a good idea,’ she answered.

His hand released her arm and turned the doorknob. ‘Are you causing trouble, George?’ he said as he opened the door.

‘I am sorry, sir,’ Nanny Jones said.

‘There is no need to be sorry. We will take him outside to play in the garden.’

George’s eyes lit up. ‘Want my boat!’ He ran across the room and pointed to the sailing boat on a high shelf. ‘Sail my boat, Uncle Bobbie?’

Robbie crossed the room. ‘Yes, we shall sail your boat.’ George lifted his arms. Robbie picked him up so George could lift the boat off the shelf.

‘I need to fetch my bonnet,’ Caroline said. ‘I will meet you outside.’

She hurried down the attic stairs. Then ran along the landing to her rooms. The day was warm, so she did not bother with a shawl, just picked up a straw bonnet and tied the burgundy ribbons in a bow beneath her chin.

The colour of the ribbons matched the flowers in the printed pattern on her muslin dress.

Her heart raced as she hurried downstairs, not from fear, but with the same sensations of expectation and excitement she had known the day he arrived here for his stay. ‘I should have applauded you.’ No one had said such things to her.

In the beginning, Albert complimented her often, highlighting aspects of her beauty. Robbie looked beyond appearance and considered what was inside, and he had seen courage in her.

Courage… A brief sound of amusement slipped from her throat as she hopped from the bottom step of the stairs.

Her feet were so light it felt as though she skipped through the drawing room.

The French doors stood open, and she heard Robbie talking outside and George squealing with excitement.

She could not see them from the house, the pond was further into the garden, beyond the tall hedges.

When she rounded the corner of the second tall hedge separating the garden’s spaces, she found Robbie on his knees at the edge of the pond beside George.

They were leaning forward, palms pressed on the pond’s stone rim, blowing as hard as they could at the boat.

It moved a little, wobbling through the water and sending out ripples.

Caro laughed fully, the sound bursting from her throat. She could not remember the last time she had laughed like this, but they did look funny .

Robbie looked up, smiling broadly, clearly seeing the humour in his actions too.

‘We are making our own wind for the sails because there is no breeze. It is good to hear you laugh by the way,’ he added, ‘even if it is at our expense.’ His lips twisted into a wry smile. ‘Will you help us blow our boat?’

George looked up too. ‘Aun’ie Ca’o, help.’

She lifted the skirt of her dress and knelt on the grass, on the other side of George to Robbie. ‘Who is on your boat, George?’

‘Uncle Bahbah and the pi’ates.’

Robbie choked mid-blow and laughed more heartily than Caro had done.

Uncle Bahbah was Drew’s nickname for Robbie’s younger brother Harry, the black sheep of Mary’s family.

‘Why is Uncle Harry with the pirates?’ Robbie asked, his hand bracing George’s waist to ensure he did not topple into the pond.

A frown drew a line between George’s brows. ‘The pi’ates captu’ed him and took the ship, but now he is the capt’in.’

Caro leaned on the stone rim. ‘Well, I am imagining a whole fleet of the Navy’s ships coming up behind your pirates. They are ready to save the day, and they are captained by your Uncle Robbie.’ She blew at the boat’s white sails. George blew too, but he could not quite purse his lips.

A humorous but less exuberant sound slipped out of Robbie’s throat. ‘We should have brought your cannons down, then we could have fired on the pirates.’

‘We can imagine cannons.’ Caro dipped her fingertips into the water. ‘Now, who do you want to win, George? Are we blowing with all our might for the pirates to get away, or willing the Navy to catch them?’

‘The pi’ates get away!’

Robbie smiled at Caro. ‘He is Drew’s son.’

‘He is, indeed. ’

‘Then we blow,’ Robbie said.

‘We blow,’ Caro agreed, and set to it.

‘Raise the main sail and pull the yard arm!’ Robbie shouted and blew hard.

The boat wobbled a path across the water at a snail’s pace.

‘Uncle Bahbah is shouting, draw your swords!’ Robbie called out. ‘We must prepare to fight.’

‘But Uncle Robbie is nearly upon them!’ Caro cried. ‘He and his navy will take those naughty pirates to gaol.’

‘No! No!’ George squealed, his hands fisting with excitement.

‘Then blow harder, George. Blow harder.’

They all blew.

Caro blew so hard her cheeks hurt.

‘There’s a storm whipping up!’ Robbie dipped his fingers in the water and stirred it up. The boat rocked. ‘My navy ships have caught the wind, they are sailing faster. Blow, George, blow.’

‘If one of us must rescue it, it will be you who gets his boots wet,’ she said to Robbie.

He laughed as poor George puffed out his cheeks and blew with no effect.

‘Uncle Bobbie, Aun’ie Ca’o, blow!’

‘I think I owe you a little chivalry. I can be valiant, Caro,’ Robbie responded, before blowing again.

He had not called her Caro before. Only Drew and Mary used her shortened name. The familiarity brought a smile to her lips. She did feel differently towards him. Friendship…

‘The storm is coming. Tell the pirates to bring down their sails,’ Robbie said as he stirred up the water rocking the sailing boat that was far out of George’s reach.

‘It’ll sink, Uncle Bobbie! Stop! Stop the sto’m!’

‘The Navy ships are heavier, they have the cannons, they are more likely to go down! Call out to the pirates, take down your sails!’

‘Ta’e down you’ sails, pi’ates!’ George shouted at the boat.

‘They are doing it!’ Caro cried. ‘I see them! Look they are in the rigging!’ She pointed as though she really could see them.

‘The Navy have their cannons ready to fire. The hatches are open, the fools. The water will come in the hold. They will go down.’ Robbie stirred the water more vigorously.

‘Tell the men to come down from the rigging, George. The sea is too wild. Oh no. I see Uncle Bahbah up there. Tell him to come down.’

‘Come down, Uncle Bahbah!’

‘He is down,’ Caro reassured him.

‘The storm is hitting the Navy full force, waves are sweeping into the gun decks. They are sinking. They are going down. Shout hurrah, the pirates have won!’

‘Hu’ah!’ George shouted, thrusting a fist into the air.

‘Hurrah!’ Robbie called. Then he looked at Caro. ‘Are you not pleased, Auntie Caro? Why are you not cheering?’ It was said with satire, and as she looked at his expression, sensations clutched in her middle. Yes, she would say she liked him well enough to call him a friend.

‘Because I think your papa ought to teach you to favour the Navy, George, and I shall tell him so. I would have put those pirates in gaol.’

Robbie laughed.

‘Tumble me, Uncle Bobbie.’ George’s interest in the boat sailed away.

‘Bend over, then.’ Robbie stood up.

George bent over, folding himself in half, and reaching his hands through his legs. Robbie held his hands and pulled him up. George spun a somersault, giggling. It was a well-practised manoeuvre, which Robbie must have taught him .

Robbie lowered George to the ground.

‘You have to rescue George’s boat,’ she reminded him.

‘You just want me to get my boots wet, and I cannot afford to ruin them.’

‘Then you must take them off.’ Gosh, she could not remember teasing anyone since she and Drew were children.

He grinned. ‘A perfect solution. George, you may be the bearer of my coat, while I valiantly climb into the pond to rescue your boat from the storm.’

George grinned as Robbie took off his morning coat and lay it across George’s raised arms, then he sat on the rim of the pond and pulled off his boots. ‘Do not let my coat fall. I do not want grass stains upon it. Conquering heroes should not be green with grass stains.’

George looked at him with eyes full of worship.

In his waistcoat and shirt, she could see that Robbie’s waist was leaner than Albert’s had been. He turned back the cuffs of his shirt, revealing the dark hair across his skin.

A sensual twist spiralled through the lower part of her tummy, a reaction to his masculinity. She often remembered how it felt to lie in a bed with Albert, and to be touched by a man’s hands, she always enjoyed those times with Albert.

‘I do not suppose you would help me with these?’ He lifted a booted foot.

She shook her head. She may feel more comfortable with him, but she did not feel comfortable enough to lean over and yank at his boot. He did not have a valet so he must take his own boots off every night and it did not take him long.

George stood proudly still, watching him. She knew Robbie had given George a task so he would not run around. It was a wise trick .

‘And these are for you, Caro.’ He held out his boots with a wry smile, as if to say, these are to keep you here .

She poked her tongue out at him. When did I last do a thing like that?

George laughed. He had seen a difference in her today too.

‘The hero is rising to the challenge, George!’ Robbie said as he stepped into the water, soaking his stockings and trousers. He waded dramatically through the shallow pool.

Oh, good Lord! She laughed so much she had to clutch her side as a stitch pulled in the muscle there.

The water came up above his knees, but he walked as though it were up to his neck, and he raised one hand as though he held a sword, or a Union Jack flag that he was about to plant in the ground to claim the territory of the pond for Royal Britannia.

‘I have it!’ he cried, when he picked up the toy boat.

‘You are silly, Robbie,’ Caro called, breathless with laughter.

George was in so many fits of giggles, he struggled with his task of holding the coat.

As Robbie walked, less dramatically and humorously, out of the water, he smiled at Caro. ‘Call me Rob, please. Robbie is so childish. I will never persuade my brothers and sisters to stop calling me that, but my friends never do.’

Friends . Had they achieved that connection already? She did feel as though they had.

He stepped out from the pond, his soaked trousers plastered to his legs.

‘I will take the boat inside. You may have your boots back.’ She held them out.

His smile tilted to one side. ‘Thank you,’ he said as he swapped the boat for his boots.

‘May I have my coat, young master coat-keeper?’ he asked George, and took his coat back.

‘Now, as I am soaked and would like a change of clothes, we shall go back to the house. I imagine your mama and papa have come back and are looking for you anyway, George.’

They walked together across the lawn with Caro holding one of George’s hands, while his other gripped his boat, and Rob carried his boots, with his coat hanging over his forearm.

When they reached the house, Rob excused himself and ran upstairs ahead of them, leaving wet footprints on the stairs.

Caro followed him upstairs more slowly with George.