Page 30 of The Secret Love of a Gentleman (The Marlow Family Secrets #3)

When Caro walked over the threshold of the house an hour later, her clothes rumpled and still damp, Rob held her hand in his, behind her back.

She felt as she had the day she stepped across the threshold of Albert’s home as a married woman.

Only this time, instead of a fear for the marriage bed, her blood was alive and fresh from a bed.

She was still a little intoxicated from the feelings.

She probably gazed at Rob with eyes glittering with wonder in the moment before they let go of each other’s hands.

She led the way, climbing the stairs to wash and change in her rooms.

She loved him.

And he had said, ‘ I love you .’ She was not na?ve enough to believe him, because she knew how physical love could fool the mind, yet, she was glad he cared enough to say the words.

He was honourable. Kind. Good. She saw all those things.

But he was also very young and he had so much life yet to experience, his affections would be drawn away from her.

She had learned not to believe in the happy-ever-afters of novels that saw heroines and heroes come together in perfect scenarios.

This time she was holding on to truth and not dreaming.

This was her happy ending, an afternoon of pleasure with a gorgeous friend.

A moment of heaven. And tomorrow, when he left, she would not be maudlin.

She would happily wave goodbye and wish him well.

She would see him in London in a few weeks, because he had invited her.

There, when she saw him, she would remember and treasure today without hope for more.

She was happier than she had been for many years.

Happy endings did not always mean marriage.

‘I’m so glad you’re back.’

They both looked back suddenly, in a way that expressed their guilt. Heat burned in Caro’s skin, a blush rising.

Mary stood in the hall. Her expression did not say she saw anything untoward in their behaviour.

‘You are soaked. We were worried. Drew was ready to set up a search party. Even poor George wondered where you had got to when I tucked him in. We feared one of your horses had bolted or shied and one of you was hurt, waiting for us to find you.’

‘We sheltered in the charcoal-burner’s hut, and waited until the rain passed,’ Rob explained.

They were probably a good half an hour longer than that. She had not noticed when the rain stopped.

‘I will have bath water brought up to your rooms,’ Mary said. ‘The kitchen have hot water ready. We expected you to arrive bedraggled. We will eat as soon as you come down, and it is your last night, Rob, so hurry?—’

‘So, the wanderers have returned,’ Drew interrupted. He stood at the top of the stairs above Caro. ‘You owe my son a kiss goodnight, both of you. He cannot sleep, he tells me, until he has had his kiss from Auntie Caro and a story from his Uncle Robbie.’

‘I will come now,’ Caro said, lifting the heavy fabric of the wet habit away from her feet as she continued climbing. ‘Was he scared by the storm?’

‘No, he thought it entertaining. I suppose you two had a lark riding through it.’ The last was directed at Rob, yet even so the heat in Caro’s cheeks intensified.

‘Caro’s horse panicked when a bolt of lightning struck overhead, so we took cover in the wood. We are both unharmed, just wet.’

‘I am glad you have returned whole,’ Drew said, looking at Caro.

She could not look Drew in the eye for fear of giving herself away. She was not whole, she had left a little piece of herself in that hut, and another piece of her would leave with Rob. She walked past Drew and turned towards the next flight of stairs, to the attic.

‘I will come and say goodnight to George, too,’ Rob said, ‘while the footman fills a copper bath for me.’

Caro glanced back. Rob smiled. It turned her stomach to quivering aspic.

‘After all, it is the last night he will hear one of Uncle Robbie’s silly stories.’

Rob’s words pressed like a little knife into her chest.