She’d only grow more and more in love with him, and it would be her demise. After all, she was the daughter of a mere baron.
Millie covered Caroline’s hand with her own. “How are you feeling?”
“Honestly?”
“Of course,” Millie said, inclining her head. “I would expect nothing else from you.”
“I’m furious.” So angry she truly wanted to scream. To go and find Roe and pound on his chest and demand he take it back. She’d wanted to marry him, she still did, and she couldn’t deny that. But not like this, not as a duty. She wanted him to love her. She hated that about herself, but it was the truth. When he looked at her, she wanted him to see the woman he’d chosen, not the woman he was responsible for.
Millie inclined her head knowingly. “I would be angry, too. In fact, I shall be furious on your behalf.” She nodded once more. “Most indignant.” Millie sighed. “I suppose you are going to refuse him.”
Caroline looked up. “Of course not. Why ever would I do that?”
Millie smiled. “Good girl. Very practical of you. Now then, what shall we do about it?”
“I haven’t any notion.”
“I do.” Millie leaned her head closer as if they were conspiring on a most dangerous secret. “I suggest we spend a great deal of his money. If you are to be a duchess you will need an entirely new wardrobe, not to mention you probably want to redecorate some of the house. It hasn’t been changed in so long.”
Caroline tried to smile, she did, but found it impossible to pull off. “It sounds like a magnificent plan, Millie, and I suspect that tomorrow I shall be delighted to do that very thing. At the moment though, I need to be alone.” She paused before leaving the room.
Millie smiled warmly. “I know it does not seem so right now, but trust that all will be well. I do wish my dear son had been a little more tender with his words, though I couldn’t be more delighted to have you as a daughter-in-law. You know I already think of you as a daughter.”
Caroline kissed Millie’s cheek and then left the room. She couldn’t say anything else. She was already dangerously close to breaking down into tears, and though Millie had seen her cry before, she’d never seen her cry about Roe. At least she hadn’t and known that Roe was the cause of her tears.
Caroline grabbed her cloak and reticule, slipped out the front door, and hailed a hack. She gave the driver the address, then sat back and looked out the bare window. London bustled about around her as if nothing had happened, as if she hadn’t had the best night of her life in Roe’s bed only to wake up to find everything had turned upside down. He’d been so tender in bed, whispering naughty things to her. They’d laughed and touched until the early morning light, at which point she’d fallen into a very sated and exhausted sleep.
She thought that night had meant something to him, something other than duty or responsibility or consequences. She didn’t want to be anyone’s consequence. She felt as important as a tea kettle, something to be passed along from one family member to the next.
She was a burden and it was all she’d ever be. Of course, now everyone would call her Duchess. But she’d know the truth. She’d know why Roe had actually married her.
Caroline stood in the entryway of her family home. The men Roe had hired to do the repair work here were off work for the day, so she was able to be alone with her thoughts. They had done an excellent job repairing the stairs; she couldn’t even tell anything had ever been wrong with them. They looked lovely.
What would she do with this house now? She wouldn’t need to live here as she’d live with Roe. But this was hers, truly the only thing she owned in the entire world. Certainly there was something she could do with it. She made her way around the house, checking each room and hoping the solution would pop into her head.
In a way, she felt relieved she wouldn’t have to live here. She’d been uncertain about it, nervous, perhaps a little frightened about the entire ordeal, but she’d been in such a hurry to get away from Roe and this perpetual feeling that she had no real place in this world, that she’d only ever