The Husband List Read online

  Caroline didn’t recall making a jest, but she had more pressing matters to pursue. “If you don’t know how important business is to Jack, how do you know him well enough to be certain you want to marry him?”

  “I can learn the details after we’re married. I know he’s a hero. My mother showed me the article in the newspaper on Tuesday. That made her quite happy. But all I really need to know is that he’s the best candidate available for a winter wedding. And I will be married this year,” she said with a scary amount of determination.

  Caroline was speechless. When, exactly, had Harriet turned into a Mama-in-training?

  “Besides, Jack needs me,” Harriet said. “He has potential, but with his family roots, he’ll never quite be one of us unless married to one of us. So, it’s perfect.… He can benefit from my family’s social connections, and I will get my winter wedding.”

  “This all sounds gloriously romantic,” Caroline replied, unable to rein in her sarcasm.

  Harriet didn’t pick up on it, though. “Oh, it will be. I plan to reserve St. Thomas’s for the fifteenth of December. I shall carry white roses with holly. The church will be filled with pine boughs bound in white ribbons, and the snow will be fresh outside.”

  “If there’s no snow, will the wedding be called off?”

  Harriet laughed, but again Caroline hadn’t been joking.

  “Of course there will be snow.”

  Thus spoke the girl who had always claimed the pinto hobbyhorse.

  Caroline checked the carriages and was relieved to see Mrs. Longhorne’s near the front.

  “It’s time for me to leave,” she told Harriet.

  “I’ll see you at the polo field this afternoon, then?”

  “Of course,” Caroline replied. With luck, Jack would be there and at least she could share his holly-bedecked fate with him.

  * * *

  CAROLINE HAD just stepped though the front door of Villa Blanca when one of the Longhornes’ liveried footmen ushered her to the Blue Seaside Salon. She gave the dining room a longing look as they passed it by. A small nibble would have been nice, and a real meal, even better.

  But her food yearning left when she entered the Blue Seaside Salon. A storm of sorts must have blown through here while she’d been wading in the chilly water at Bailey’s Beach. The room was bare of all decorations. The curio shelves and Chippendale secretary now held books and sheaves of papers instead of the porcelains and pretty glass pieces that had been there this morning. Mama and Mrs. Longhorne had set up a war room.

  “You wished to see me?” Caroline asked the two women who stood shoulder-to-shoulder at a tall library table recently deposited square in the middle of the room. On the table’s surface sat mounds of heavy velvet in various crimson hues.

  “Yes. Sit, dear,” Mama instructed with an absent flick of her hand.

  Caroline opted for the sofa with the view of the lawn and the ocean. Something more was out there today. Not far from the house, Amelia and Helen stood squinting up in Caroline’s general direction. Neither girl looked as though she planned to come inside anytime soon. Their parasols and a small heap of books sat beside a blanket under a nearby elm, and Pomeroy was out there, farther from Mama than Caroline had ever seen him. This was odd. They would not linger outside unless a calamity was taking place indoors. The girls must know what was about to happen to Caroline.

  Mama stopped scowling at the velvet and focused on Caroline. “As you know, I let your last governess go due to the unfortunate events in England last summer.”

  Miss Delbert’s departure had also been unfortunate. She’d been fond of whiskey in her tea. After a few cups, she’d been very agreeable, which had made Caroline’s various campaigns, over the years, not to wed a duke much easier to plan and execute.

  “Yes, Mama.”

  “And then the winter season in New York left me too busy to properly choose a new governess for you, but the job is finally done. You will begin educational hours with Miss Peek-Jacobs immediately.”

  “Educational hours?” Caroline knew her mother could not be referring to more study of the classics. She could not possibly be that lucky.

  “Your deportment is perfect, when you choose to let it be. You can converse on any topic a young lady should embrace, but Mrs. Longhorne and I agree that there are still certain lacks.” Mama pushed aside the velvet and smacked her hand upon a fat book with a red leather cover. “Caroline, this is the book of your future.”

  Even from a distance away, she could recognize her fate. The book was Debrett’s Peerage. She’d seen it before, and the sole thing in it that had amused her had been the advertisements.

  “One day, you will be included in the pages of this book, but only if you impress Lord Bremerton with your depth of knowledge about those already here,” Mama said. “Miss Peek-Jones—”

  “I thought you said her name was Peek-Jacobs?” Caroline asked.

  “Whatever,” her mother replied. “What is important is that she joins us from the house of a marquess. She knows this book cover-to-cover, and the people who matter, too. By June thirtieth, you will be ready to meet Bremerton.”

  Caroline rose and joined her mother and Mrs. Longhorne. She planned to address the book, but in good time.

  “What are the velvets for?” she asked first.

  “To redo the draperies in Rosemeade’s Grand Salon,” Mama replied.

  “Is the plan to match them to Debrett’s?”

  “And if it were?” Mama asked in response. “It is our goal to make all things conducive to a marriage proposal. Mrs. Longhorne did so in creating Villa Blanca, and Esmé is now a contessa. But as it happens, I have chosen the crimson to bring a royal aura to Rosemeade. Every element must convince Lord Bremerton that one day you will do honor to the title of Duchess of Endsleigh.”

  Mrs. Longhorne rubbed her hands together. “Imagine! Caroline, Duchess of Endsleigh. It sounds so very right!”

  “It is what I raised her for,” Mama said firmly.

  “So where is this Miss Peek-Jacobs?” Caroline asked since she preferred not contemplate how she had been trained in the manner of a prize show pony.

  Riccardi, the Longhorne butler, who had been standing in the doorway, turned and left at Mrs. Longhorne’s command.

  “She will be here shortly,” Mama replied.

  Caroline said, “If you don’t mind?” to her mother before flipping open Debrett’s. “Oh dear,” she murmured.

  “What?” Mama asked.

  “This is the 1890 edition. Can you imagine how many dukes, marquesses, and earls have gone to their eternal reward since then?”

  “This is serious business, Caroline,” her mother said sternly.

  Caroline was working up an expression of contrition that might pass for heartfelt when Miss Peek-Jacobs arrived. At first sight, Caroline knew this woman was no Miss Delbert who might be plied with a few cups of extra-medicinal tea.

  Miss Peek-Jacobs was tall and solid, with iron gray hair and a set to her jawline that was not just firm but quite aggressive. She wore a somber black uniform that added to her stern appearance. While Caroline could not be certain, she would guess that Miss Peek-Jacobs was past her thirties but not yet to Mama’s age.

  Mama was looking on her newest employee with great approval. “Miss Peek-Jacobs, this—”

  “I prefer to be called simply Peek.”

  Mama’s head rocked a bit, making the blue feathered ornament in her hair bounce. The shock of actually having been interrupted by a servant had to be great.

  “—this is my daughter, Caroline,” Mama said, neatly ignoring the interruption. Miss Peek might be intimidating, but in the battle for dominance, Mama always won.

  “Hello, Miss Peek,” Caroline said.

  “Just Peek, if you please,” the governess said in a brisk tone. “I see you are making yourself familiar with Debrett’s. Please tell me what you know of the Table of Precedence.”

  “That the queen trumps?”

>   Peek’s thick brows nearly met above her nose as she frowned. “If by trumps you mean Her Royal Highness takes precedence over all, yes. But will a viscount’s eldest son take precedence over a Privy Councillor?”

  Caroline held even odds on getting the question right, but there was no point in guessing. She would be snagged up on the next question or the one after that.

  “I have no idea,” she replied.

  “You will by the time the sun sets today. And you will also know how to seat Knights of the Garter, the Thistle, and the Star of India, and who takes precedence among the Bishops of Bath, London, and Durham. In short, you will see the Table of Precedence in your sleep.” Peek turned her attention to Mama, who at least was not gaping, as Mrs. Longhorne was. “Your daughter has much work to do and little time in which to see it done. I hope she is bright enough.”

  “I passed the entrance examinations for Oxford and Yale,” Caroline replied. “And I am also capable of speaking for myself without my mother’s aid.”

  Peek’s mouth twitched at the corners. Caroline opted to believe that had been a smile.

  “I see,” the governess said. “Have you had luncheon, or must you eat before you begin your work?”

  “With some chocolate cake, I can begin now,” Caroline replied.

  “Good enough, then,” Peek said. “Chocolate cake it is.”

  The governess looked to Mama, who was clearly trying to come up with a way to forbid chocolate cake and yet have Caroline start to work. But sometimes a girl could have her cake … even if it was washed down with a flood of peers, barons, and knights, too.

  * * *

  JACK HAD never seen the appeal of Newport. He’d visited often with Eddie and other friends, but the fierce competition to spend money that gripped this town had never interested him. He’d much rather earn it. Tonight, though, Jack’s opinion regarding Newport was shifting.

  As he walked the lawns of The Reefs with Flora under a waning moon, he had to admit that when he ignored all of the poor attitudes and excesses, the place was beautiful. It stood a world apart from the noise and elbow-to-elbow existence of city life. He supposed a few months spent here while wrapping up the Providence purchase wouldn’t be too painful.

  “I like having you here,” Flora said as they stood looking out over the blackness of the ocean. “I lost the letter I received from you when you were still a young boy, talking about your studies and sporting events.”

  “I should have written back more,” Jack said. “It’s my fault.”

  “You were busy growing up and then busy being a man,” Flora replied. “I didn’t take the silence as an affront.”

  “And I’m here now,” he said as he offered her his arm.

  Laughing, she took it. “Yes, you are.”

  They strolled on. Music and laughter drifted to them, probably from the Forty Steps, north along the Cliff Walk, where the local servants gathered to socialize some evenings.

  “You know, Jack, you could stay with me while you get the house on Touro Park put together,” Flora said.

  He glanced down at her, but he couldn’t read the subtleties of her expression in the moonlight.

  “That’s a kind offer, but the house is more habitable than a lot of places I’ve been,” he said. “And in any case, I learned today that I’ll need to spend a couple of days a week in Providence. I wouldn’t want to disrupt you.”

  “I like disruptions. And I am really asking you to stay for my sake,” she said.

  “I’m saying no for the same reason,” he replied. “People talk. Around here, they do little else. If you’re in the market to marry again and you have me as a guest, you’ll ruin your chances.”

  “First, I don’t care what people say. I never have and never will. Second, I’ll never marry again. Why should I?”

  “The usual reasons?” Jack asked.

  “Such as?”

  The silkily dangerous tone to Flora’s voice let him know he’d overstepped.

  “You don’t usually see this many stars when the sky is so hazy,” he said, seeking a change of topic.

  Flora gently squeezed his arm in warning.

  “Such as?” she repeated.

  “Security?” he ventured.

  “Clem owned two gold mines, which I inherited, as well as a house on Nob Hill in San Francisco and a town house within a stone’s throw of the Marlborough House in London. I must have failed to mention them to you”

  Jack laughed. “You did.”

  They walked on until they reached the low fieldstone wall that separated The Reefs from its neighboring cottage. Jack decided to risk another question. “But what about children?”

  “If I were going to have them, I would by now,” Flora replied. “I am not childless from lack of effort.”

  “I believe that’s enough information.”

  Her laughter joined the party noises. “I have embarrassed you. But you shouldn’t have asked if you weren’t prepared to hear the answer.”

  “True.”

  “So stay with me a few weeks. Let’s play at being the family we could have been,” Flora said.

  “I can’t.”

  “Can’t … That’s a word I have almost never heard you use. Why, can’t?”

  “It’s difficult to explain,” Jack said. All he knew was that if he could avoid it, he didn’t plan to annoy Agnes Maxwell any more than necessary. Staying under Flora’s roof would make him a pariah to Agnes. He couldn’t let that happen.

  “I have my guesses,” Flora replied.

  Jack had been about to ask what those guesses were when the sight of a silhouette moving toward them from across the neighboring lawn distracted him. The figure was female, but other than that, he couldn’t distinguish details.

  “I think we’re about to meet your neighbor,” he said to Flora.

  “No one is in residence,” Flora replied.

  The woman halted about twenty yards away.

  “Flora, is that you?” she called.

  Jack knew that voice—slightly husky, as though just waking.

  “Caroline, what are you doing?” he called in response.

  She started in their direction. “Oh, Jack, it’s just you. I thought perhaps Flora had a gentleman caller.”

  Caroline had reached the stone wall, which came about to her waist. “I was walking the Cliff Walk when it occurred to me I must be near your cottage, Flora. Since your neighbor’s wall is so obligingly low, I decided to take advantage and see if I could get a peek of your grounds.”

  “Come on over,” Flora said.

  “I’d be happy to,” Caroline replied.

  Jack, however, wasn’t ready for a repeat of the conversation on the way to the Casino. Flora and Caroline had the potential to be an unholy alliance, at least as it pertained to him.

  “Shouldn’t you be at a ball or something?” Jack asked Caroline.

  “I pled exhaustion and stayed at Villa Blanca,” she said before grasping her skirts in apparent preparation to hop the wall. “Mama and the girls won’t be back for hours yet.”

  “Help her, Jack,” Flora directed.

  “I can do it myself,” Caroline replied before he could even move.

  Flora let go of his arm and nudged him forward. “A gentleman would help in any case.”

  “Take the help or we’ll both be lectured,” Jack said to Caroline.

  “Fine.”

  Jack crossed the wall, which wasn’t more than three feet. He scooped Caroline up in his arms. She smelled pretty, like flowers and sunshine. Some unthinking part of him wanted to hold her. But the thinking part quickly deposited her on the other side of the wall. She landed well, considering his haste.

  “Thank you,” she said as he hopped back over.

  “I take it you’re out and about without your mother’s permission?” he asked.

  “The matter wasn’t discussed,” she replied before turning her attention away. “Flora, how was your tennis lesson?”

  “Very enj
oyable, thank you,” Flora replied. “I seem to have some aptitude, not that I’m sure what I will do with it. One can play tennis only so much.” She extended her arm to Caroline. “Come walk toward the house with me and tell me what you have been doing since yesterday morning.”

  Caroline linked arms with her.

  “I have been doing almost everything a proper heiress should,” she said, giving Jack a single glance over her shoulder before the two women started walking.

  Jack followed after them, sure in the knowledge that this was to be like the ride to the Casino, when he’d been trapped in a feminine world he’d found as frustrating as he had intriguing.

  “Yesterday, after the Casino, I stopped at Villa Blanca to change outfits,” Caroline was saying to Flora. “Then I attended a tea at Miss Theresa Milburn’s, followed by another clothing change and a concert at Fairview. From there, it was Villa Blanca to change yet again, and then on to supper at the Allen home. Then—”

  “Villa Blanca to change?” Flora asked.

  Caroline laughed. “Yes. And finally to a small dance in honor of Miss Courtney Johnston’s eighteenth birthday.”

  “All that activity and a veritable mountain of clothing,” Flora said. “Do you ever get time to yourself?”

  “Only when I steal it,” Caroline replied. “And today was breakfast with Mama and Mrs. Longhorne and then off to Bailey’s Beach for some sea air. When I returned to Villa Blanca, Mama had a surprise for me … a new governess.”

  “A governess?” Flora asked. “Are you not too grown for a governess?”

  “Yes, at twenty-one, I am. But this new governess is my fault, in a way. If I had been compliant last year and married as my mother had planned, I would now be governess-free, if unhappily wed. Instead, I have Peek. She’ll be occupying my mornings. I am glad I learn quickly, because otherwise she’d take my full days.”

  “What are you learning?”

  “Peek is to teach me all I need to know about the English peers’ way of life. At this point, that seems to involve memorizing who may walk after whom in a procession, and how many strawberry leaves and pearls may be showing on a marquess’s coronet. The answer to the last is three and two, respectively.”