A Little Bit Scandalous Page 0,52

you would make it all the brighter.”

Caroline felt heat creep into her cheeks. “That is very kind, Mr. Bishop, but it’s quite unnecessary.”

“Miss Jellico, don’t be ridiculous. I should think you are well-deserving a ride in the park. The sunshine will do you good.” Mr. Bishop smiled broadly.

She had the sneaking suspicion that he would not be deterred this morning. So she resolved herself to go on a quick ride with him, then she could return so she and Roe could come up with a final plan for catching Mr. Lamb.

“I would love to ride with you, thank you for thinking of me. If you would but give me a few minutes to prepare myself. I shall be down shortly.” Caroline left for her bedroom to change.

Riding, indeed. People would no doubt believe he was courting her. She suspected he still thought that based on their last conversation about the matter. Who would think Caroline would have an official outing with a gentleman? Mr. Bishop was pleasant enough, and initially she had been interested in developing a friendship with him to persuade him to donate monies to Dover House. But with the finances there in question, she wasn’t about to ask anyone else to donate.

Gracious, that would be dreadful. Caroline sighed heavily and crammed a bonnet onto her head, tucking the curls at her ears into the sides. And before she knew it, she sat across from Mr. Bishop in his Landau, listening to the crunch of the horse’s hoofs against the rocky path. They passed other carriages and riders, most of whom nodded to Mr. Bishop. A few spoke, and a few others stared blatantly at them.

Mr. Bishop talked the entire time they rode through the part. The man seemed quite enamored with the sound of his own voice. Finally he called for the carriage to stop by a pond and jumped down. He came around to retrieve her.

“I thought we could walk here and watch the ducks,” he said.

It seemed harmless enough so she agreed. She knew she should probably tell him about the goings on at the Dover Street Girls’ Asylum, but she didn’t want to frighten him away. Still, the thought of having to endure other such encounters simply to secure him as a benefactor made her want to give up straight away. Walk back home, well back to Roe’s townhome, that is.

They walked quietly all the way to the pond’s edge.

“I find you most delightful,” he said. “And I believe we are what you English refer to as a smart match.”

Caroline frowned, then shook her head.

“I’ve somehow gotten that wrong, I see,” he said.

The entire notion was wrong. There was nothing smart about them together. They didn’t belong together. “We have only known one another for a couple of weeks, Mr. Bishop. You do not even know me.”

“I suppose you know what I’m attempting to say there.” He ignored her protests. “I should think my affections for you are quite obvious. You are a beautiful woman.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bishop, but I don’t—”

He held his hand up to stop her from continuing. “Allow me to finish.”

He most assuredly was enamored of his own voice. She fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“I came to London to find myself a wife,” he said. “And I know I have found the perfect choice in you, Miss Jellico. You are lovely and sweet, and so poised. So very poised.”

She was beginning to feel like a horse, the way he spoke of her.

“You are the perfect Englishwoman,” he said. “And I believe you’ll make the perfect wife to an American man.” He reached over and took her hand and brought it to his lips.

“Mr. Bishop, you truly are too kind, but I cannot marry you.”

“If you’re concerned about Lord Chanceworth, you need not be. I have already spoken to him about these matters.”

Caroline’s heart stopped beating, the blood in her veins stopped pumping, and the air around her disappeared. “Roe gave you permission?” She reached over and rested her hand on the large oak tree at the edge of the pond. Roe had so callously given her away to this American fool? Betrayal stabbed through her.

She took several minutes to gather her wits about her, despite Mr. Bishop’s constant chatter. The perfect Englishwoman! If this idiot only knew of all of the times she donned a pair of trousers and sneaked into a man’s gaming hell, then he’d certainly see that she was nowhere near being the perfect Englishwoman. She