The American Bride - By Karla Darcy Page 0,1

paler except for angry spots of color showing up high on her cheeks. The Duchess watched with approval as the girl fought to keep her emotions under tight control. Except for her color and the thinning of her lips Caroline's expressionless face masked her inner turmoil. Her father had done well raising the child, Liela admitted.

Giving the girl time to absorb the irrefutable fact of her marriage, Liela reached for the Waterford decanter and poured sherry into two delicate crystal glasses. Raising her glass she appraised the chit who had had the temerity to cross the ocean in the middle of a war and storm her household, rousing the Duchess from a sound sleep. Knowing the rigidity of her servants, Liela suspected the latter took more nerve than the ocean crossing.

Her granddaughter was tiny in stature but exquisitely proportioned. She had a full bosom accentuated by the cut of her silk dress which although modestly highnecked was drawn in beneath her breasts. The black skirt fell in a shimmering flow of fabric, caressing the willowy curves of her body. Angry color burned across the girl's cheekbones in striking contrast to the almost translucent color of her skin.

"When your father proposed this marriage I turned the entire project over to my man of business to be sure there was nothing havey-cavey about the arrangements," the Duchess continued. "It was all done with the utmost legality. I can give you no hope in that quarter, Caroline."

"I tried to convince Poppa that none of this was necessary," Cara moaned. "But he was so sick at the time that I just didn't have the heart to fight him."

"Even on his deathbed your father was only thinking of your safety and welfare, child," Liela reasoned.

"Oh, Gran, I can understand what he was trying to do. It's just that...."

Cara's voice wavered and she fought to keep her emotions intact.

"I've always known that I wouldn't have a great deal to say about the man I would marry. But to be married to a man I've never even set eyes on is appalling."

"My dear child, you can't be expecting love?" the Duchess objected.

"Well, you did, Gran," Cara accused the older woman.

Taking advantage of her grandmother's discomfort, Cara plunged ahead. "As I recall the story you were already betrothed to the son of a wealthy landowner when Grandfather came along. You fell in love with him and when your parents refused to allow you to break the engagement you decided to elope to Gretna Green." Cara's eyes twinkled mischievously into her grandmother's watery blue ones. "As I heard it you were in your nightgown."

Two spots of color shone on the wrinkled cheeks of the older woman. "At least you should get the story correct," she snapped.

A gentle smile played across the features of the old woman as she remembered a time when her blood had pulsed as vibrantly as her granddaughter's. She had loved Paxton from the first day that she had seen him.

"I was fully dressed but it was late at night when I stole out of the house and rode to your grandfather's estate. He promptly saddled a horse and accompanied me back home where he awakened the household. While my father ranted and threatened, Paxton listened without comment and then he announced that in view of my compromised position he would marry me. He was a fine man, your grandfather."

There was silence in the room except for the gentle crackle of the logs burning in the fireplace. The Duchess stared into the flames remembering the passion ignited by her husband. Absently she turned the large encrusted Ducal ring on her finger.

"What would you have me do, Cara?"

Touched that her grandmother had finally used her pet name, Cara flung herself at Liela's feet, reaching up to hold the long elegant hands of the older woman.

"Couldn't I just go away, Gran? You could say that I never arrived and that for all you know I am dead."

"Oh, my dear, life is never that simple. You can't just run away. You would have no life at all. No. It is quite impossible."

Cara put her head in her grandmother's lap and without thought the old woman smoothed the riot of reddish gold curls that tumbled down the girl's back. The Duchess smiled as her hands touched the fiery tresses remembering her own once red hair. Against her knee Liela could feel the heartbeat of the distraught child.

"I want to help you but you must see that it would not be