The American Bride - By Karla Darcy Page 0,67

at first stiffened and then yielded, throwing his own arms around her. They hugged tightly then she gave him a little push down the hall toward his room.

Richard reflected that it hadn't been so bad being hugged by Miss Farraday even if he was a little old for that baby stuff. He bet if Uncle Julian hugged her once he wouldn't be half so mad about the horses. But then grown ups were funny. Uncle Julian might not like hugging very much.

For her part Cara was busy clearing up after the children. She dried her eyes and tried not to think about Belin and Richard. She had no way of knowing whether Julian in his anger would permit her to see the children again. If he wanted a divorce she knew in her heart she would not fight him. She would prefer the disgrace of rejection and the scandal it engendered than to have a husband who did not love her. However no matter what was decided about her own future, she would force Julian to let her see the children and explain if she would be going away permanently. They had already suffered enough losses in their young lives. They were fond of her and they trusted her so that she could never go away without first seeing them one last time. She loved the children with all her heart and no matter what it cost her pride she would insist that Julian allow her that.

Summoned at the arrival of the coach, Cara clutched her portmanteau and walked on leaden feet down the main staircase. Mrs. Clayton waited for her, her plump face creased with an anxious frown. Cara had only told her that she would send word when, and if, she would return. Like the other servants, the housekeeper was well aware of the argument with Julian. Eyes bright with unshed tears the two women hugged with genuine affection.

Ceremoniously handed into the luxurious coach, Cara settled herself into the plush cushions. She leaned her head against the soft upholstery, forcing herself not to look back as Weathersfield was swallowed up in the early evening gloom. Despite vowing she would use the time to order her muddled thoughts and feelings, she tumbled into a restless slumber as the horses bore her to London and her fate.

Chapter Twelve

"Offhand, my child, I'd say you've made a fine muddle of things."

Cara's grandmother, Liela, spoke dryly to the misty-eyed girl who slumped in the chair across from her. She had listened as the story unfolded and watched the play of emotion on Cara's face and the unspoken words behind her faltering explanations.

"I'm terribly sorry, Grandmother. Really I am," Cara said. "I did try to stay in the background. It all just seemed to happen without my having any control. Please don't be angry, Gran."

"I'm not angry, Cara."

At her grandmother's warm words, Cara glanced up in surprise. It was true. The Duchess didn't look angry. In general, she looked pleased and there was almost a smug, satisfied gleam in her eyes. Although puzzled by the older woman's manner, the girl hurried on.

"At least there isn't any open scandal. At least not yet. Luckily Julian was called away," Cara explained. Then as Liela continued to smile, Cara's eyes opened wide in wonder. "The paper he was reading. It was a letter. And, if my guess is correct, you sent it."

"The letter I think you are referring to, Cara, was one I sent to Lord Wilton requesting his presence most urgently. After all with Julian at Weathersfield it would have been difficult to send a carriage to collect you without him suspecting something was rather havey-cavey. Of course when I penned the note I had no idea you were in such a tight fix."

"You mean, Julian is here?" Cara gasped, leaping to her feet.

"No. No. Softly, child. Remember it's late and I am still an old woman." The Duchess chuckled at the snort of disbelief from her cheeky granddaughter. "When Lord Wilton arrived, he was instructed to return in the morning. I imagine he's safely ensconced in one of his clubs working off his frustration by drinking with his cronies. Men have a difficult time dealing with the crotchets of old ladies."

"But what will I say to him? What will I do?"

The Duchess watched in amusement as Cara paced across the carpet. It reminded her of a similar scene just a month ago. Then, the girl had been decrying the existence of her marriage; now, she