Physically he was at his peak, so young and beautiful.
He picked up his boots. “May I have my coat, young master coat-keeper?” He held out his hand, George raised his arms and Rob took his coat from them. “And now I think we ought to return to the house. I am soaked and would like a change of clothes, and your mama and papa have probably come back and will be looking for you, George.”
Caro gripped George’s hand before he could run off. “Come along, then, do you wish to carry your boat?” He nodded, and so the three of them walked back across the lawn with George gripping his boat and Rob carrying his boots, with his coat hanging over his shoulder.
When they reached the house, Rob excused himself and ran upstairs ahead of them, heading to his room, which was on the first floor, displaying the energy and agility that the muscular definition of his body implied as he took the steps two at a time.
Caro followed him, walking more slowly with George.
Caro had spent her days very differently in the last few weeks. She often played with George and Rob, while Rob thought up silly games. Then in the evenings she dined at the table and afterwards went to the drawing room with Rob, Drew and Mary, where they would either play the pianoforte and sing, or play cards.
It was probably the strangest period of her life because it was the most normal she had ever felt. Rob frequently engaged her in conversation and offered his arm when they walked anywhere together. He also sat beside her at the pianoforte some evenings and would turn the music for her as she played, and on rare occasions, if the song desperately needed a baritone, he would concede and sing with her.
For the first time she did not feel like a parasite, and she was certainly not isolated, she felt a part of life, of a family, and she laughed every day, and smiled often, and most importantly—she was happy. It was a feeling of joy deep inside her.
“Uncle Bobbie!” George complained, gleefully, as his uncle chased after him and captured the running child, wrapping an arm about George and lifting him up by the waist. George’s feet kicked as though he was still running.
“I caught this little monkey.” Rob turned and grinned at her. “I’m not sure exactly what species it is.” George wriggled.
“Aun’ie Caro!” he complained.
They’d taken George for a walk, leaving Mary and Drew to enjoy a little peace with Iris. Their path followed a circular route about the edge of the formal garden, along a woodland wilderness walk. It did not have the orchestrated picturesque views of Albert’s vast gardens, but it was quaint and it made Caro feel absorbed in nature. Birds sang from the branches above, and the summer breeze swept through the leaves, which shaded them from the sun, rustling them and making a pretty sound, while bees buzzed and butterflies fluttered through the air, adding more bright colours to the occasional planting that lined the route.
It was a beautiful day.
Rob had left his coat and waistcoat off because the day was so hot. They were used to being informal because of playing with George. He’d rolled his shirt sleeves up too and so, as he carried George under his arm the fine, dark hairs on his forearm showed against his pale skin, and he was sweating, so his shirt stuck to his side and became transparent.
It was a very hot day. It was the best place to be, beneath the trees.
“Put me down, Uncle Bobbie!” George wriggled harder.
“When you can behave, little monkey. You were told not to run.”
Rob turned and stopped, waiting for her to catch up. George kicked out, complaining, at Rob’s side.
She smiled, her legs slashing at her petticoats and the skirt of her dress. Her bonnet, which hung from her neck by its ribbons, bounced against her back. It was not fair that Rob could strip off layers and she could not. The thought stirred a tight feeling in her stomach.
When she reached him, she ruffled George’s hair.
“Aun’ie Ca’o.”
Rob swung him round to sit at his hip, and Caro actually glimpsed Rob’s skin at his waist as his shirt pulled up.
Rob gripped George’s chin and made George look him in the eyes as George clasped Rob’s neck. “Now, George Framlington, you are not to run ahead, there is a stream further along. If you tumble into that and drown your mama and papa would string me up. You’re to do as you are told or I will not bring you out for a walk again. Do you hear?”
George lifted his chin free, but nodded.
“I wish to hear the promise from your lips. Say it George, I will not run off.”
George’s lower lip wobbled. He hated to be told off, but then he said, “I won’t ‘un. I p’omise.”
“Good boy.” Rob patted George’s back, then he added more softly. “There’s no need for tears. You did wrong. You know you did, but now you are going to do right.”
“You may hold my hand,” Caroline offered.
“Or ride on my back,” Rob added.
“’ide” George chose, already lifting his hands to Rob’s neck. Rob shifted him, spinning him to his back as George’s arms circled his neck, and then he carried George in a piggyback, with George’s legs looped over his arms.
George looked ahead over Rob’s shoulder. Caro smiled at them both.
Rob’s patience was a wonderful thing.
“You are good with him,” she commented when they began walking again.
“I’ve had enough practice. Remember the size of my family.”
“I did not have a close family. We were not like yours.”
Rob glanced at her and smiled. “I know. Mary met them. She’s spoken of it. She described them as unpleasant.”
“She was being polite. But they were not unkind to me. Drew and I were just not wanted and ignored—for understandable reasons. The Marquis did not want Mama’s little cuckoos in his nest.” She laughed—she was talking to him of things she never spoke of. But they had become friends and friends shared confidences. “I do not even know who my father is. Neither does Drew.”
“But the fault was your mother’s, not yours. Did the Marquis not recognise that?”
She looked at Rob with a shrug. She had never understood her mother. The woman had not one maternal bone in her body. “Perhaps, but if we were treated as though we did not exist then her infidelity could be ignored. It was Mother’s view too. We were mistakes to be disposed of. Fortunately for me, Albert was willing to ignore my birth—or perhaps he did not know. He never mentioned it and neither did I.”
“Fortunately… Forgive me if this is ignorant, but what was fortunate about your marriage?”
Caro glanced at him, surprised to hear him speak of it, but she did not feel horror as she might have done a few weeks ago, and she had spoken of it first.
“I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.” His smile became apologetic.
But it was nice to feel comfortable to talk, and Rob was easy to talk to. He never judged. “It does not matter. You may speak of it. But my marriage was not always bad. I loved him.” She still did, in a way. He was the only one who had ever shown her the intensity of feeling that had felt like love, and her body and her soul had never forgotten it—the thing she’d lacked and longed for as a child. Drew may care for her, but it had always felt such a shallow comparison to the infatuation Albert had shown. And she still knew Drew’s affection to be a shallow emotion