Page 73 of The Undaunted
Lord Bertridge held her up by putting his hand under her elbow. It was the same arm that Mr. Landon had bruised. But, where Landon’s grip was deep and digging and painful, Lord Bertridge’s hand was gentle and steady. It was strong, but it was gentle. It was the sort of hand one might lean on all day.
“Come, Miss Upton,” he said, glaring at the starers until they turned away.
She allowed herself to be led and they went to the refreshment room. There were those people in it who had not heard the goings on in the ballroom but had only noticed that the distant music had stopped.
Lord Jeffries stepped forward as they entered the room. “What now, Bertridge? Has Mr. Gow broken a string?”
“Get out, if you would be so kind,” Lord Bertridge said.
Poor Lord Jeffries had not expected that answer. He said, “What?”
“Out, all of you. Miss Upton requires quiet to recover herself.”
“Recover? Well, if we can be of assistance—”
“Out. Now.”
The surprised party did file out of the room, avoiding Lord Bertridge’s eye.
He closed the door. “Sit,” he said.
Caroline did sit. Her mind was spinning but she was lucid enough to know that nobody would disobey Lord Bertridge in the state he was in. She certainly would not. She was rather admiring of his current state. His neckcloth had been rumpled and he had a bit of a wild look to him.
He examined the drinks on offer. Then, he took a bottle of Madeira and poured a large glass of it for her. Bringing it over, he said, “You ought to drink it all down. You’ve had a shock.”
“Yes,” she said.
“Now, Miss Upton,” Lord Bertridge said, beginning to pace the room as she sipped her Madeira, “I have no wish to lecture you, nor do I think anything that happened this night can be your doing. Landon is an out-and-out rogue, though you could not have known it.”
Caroline did not answer, but only nodded. Lord Bertridge was so very handsome, pacing around like that.
“I simply feel that you seem to always fall into trouble somehow,” Lord Bertridge said. “Or rather, trouble seems to find you.”
Caroline nodded. It was perfectly true.
“That must come to an end. You agree, do you not? It is just not practical to carry on like this. One must, in the fullness of time, set one’s course in life. One must choose a direction. As it were.”
Caroline had not the first idea which direction Lord Bertridge thought she ought to choose. She was far too busy admiring how dashing he looked. He’d just run his hand through his hair and he looked wonderfully disheveled. She supposed he looked like that in the morning before his valet was called.
She had a sudden vision of him sleepy-eyed and shirtless, with the sun just coming up and peeking through the curtains. Perhaps she was there with him. Maybe they were in Venice and soft breezes came through the opened windows. Perhaps she would lean toward him and whisper that the valet ought not to be called so soon. Nobody ought to be called at all.
She saw him in her mind’s eye, leaning over her and then his lips touched hers…
“Do you agree then?” Lord Bertridge asked.
It appeared he’d been talking while she was admiring his mussed hair and picturing a bedchamber in Venice. Whatever it was that he thought she ought to do, she was perfectly amenable to it.
“Oh yes, of course I agree,” Caroline said nodding, her mind drifting back to the bedchamber in Venice.
“You do?” Lord Bertridge said, halting his pacing. “Miss Upton…that is to say, Caroline…I will not let you down.”
What did he mean? Let her down how? And did he just call her Caroline?
“I will do everything in my power, well, my dear Miss Upton, Caroline, of course you will always be cared for, I may not be the most amusing fellow on earth, but then I suppose one can pick up such things if necessary. But I think the important thing to note is you will always be cared for, always protected…”
Caroline leapt out of her seat. “Did you just ask for my hand?”
Lord Bertridge looked mightily confused. “You said you agreed.”
