To Catch an Heiress
Page 40

James and Blake shared a look, and Caroline could practically see their brains springing into action, planning their mission. “If you recall,” she continued, “it was a Wednesday night when I ran away. One week ago exactly. Oliver obviously chose his card night for Percy's attempted rape. No doubt he didn't want his ears bothered by my screams.”
“Will Percy be at home?” James asked.
Caroline shook her head. “He almost always goes out and gets drunk. Oliver can't abide over-indulgence of spirits. He says it makes a man weak. So Percy tipples on Wednesday nights when he can escape his father's watchful eye.”
“What about the servants? How many are there?” This time, Blake asked the questions.
Caroline considered this for a moment. “Five, in total. Most are likely to be in residence. Last week Oliver gave everyone the night off, but I am certain he only did that so that none would rush to my assistance when Percy attacked me. He's terribly tightfisted when it comes to anyone other than himself, so I doubt he'd give them time off again without a very good reason.”
“How nice to know that your rape qualified as a good reason,” Blake muttered.
Caroline looked up and was astonished and just a touch delighted to see how angry he looked on her behalf. “But if you are careful,” she added, “you should have no trouble avoiding them. It might be a bit confusing navigating your way around the hall, but since you'll be taking me along with—”
“We're not taking you,” Blake bit off.
“But—”
“I said, we are not taking you.”
“I'm sure if you just consid—”
“You will NOT be going,” he roared, and even James blinked in surprise at the volume of his reply.
“Very well,” Caroline said in an irritated voice. She was convinced that Blake was wrong, but it didn't seem either prudent or beneficial to her health to disagree any further.
“Don't forget that you have an injured ankle,” James said gently. “You would not be able to move with your usual speed.”
Caroline had a feeling that James agreed one hundred percent with Blake and was just trying to make her feel better—especially since she'd told them her ankle was quite healed—but she appreciated the effort nonetheless. “The housekeeper is quite deaf and retires early,” she told them. “You won't have to worry about her.”
“Excellent,” Blake said. “And the rest?”
“There are two maids, but they live in the village and go home each night to sleep. They'll be long gone by the time Oliver leaves to play cards. The groom sleeps in the stables, so you're not likely to disturb him as long as you approach the house from the opposite side.”
“A butler?” Blake prompted.
“Farnsworth will be the most difficult. He has very keen ears and he's dreadfully loyal to Oliver. His room is on the third floor.”
“That shouldn't be too much of a problem, then,” James said.
“Well, no, but…” Caroline's words trailed off, and she clamped her mouth into a grim line. Blake and James were talking intensely between themselves, and she might have been a piece of furniture for all the attention they were paying her.
And then, without so much as a farewell, they walked into Blake's study, and Caroline was left sitting among her books. “Of all the rude—”
“Oh, Caroline?”
She looked up hopefully. Blake had poked his head back into the library. Maybe he had decided that she could go with them to Prewitt Hall after all. “Yes?”
“Do you know, but I forgot to ask you about that odd little book you carry about.”
“Excuse me?”
“The one with all the odd words. Does it have anything to do with Prewitt?”
“Oh. No. Actually, I told you the truth when you asked me about it the first time. It's a little personal dictionary. I like to jot down new words. The only problem is that I often forget what they mean after I write them down.”
“You might try using them in context. It's the best way to remember the meaning.” Then he turned on his heel and disappeared.
Caroline had to allow that his idea was a good one, but all that left her with was a burning desire to use insufferable, arrogant, and irritating all in one sentence.
Six hours later, Caroline was in an extremely grumpy mood. Blake and James had spent the entire afternoon closeted in Blake's study, planning their “attack” upon Prewitt Hall.
Without her.
And now they were gone, having ridden out under the cover of the moonless night. Even the stars had conveniently obscured themselves behind clouds.
Those blasted men. They thought they were invincible, but Caroline knew better. Anyone could bleed.
The worst part of it all was that they acted as if it was all so much bloody fun. They'd discussed their plans quite animatedly, arguing over times and transportation and the best approach. And to add insult to injury, they hadn't even bothered to shut the door to Blake's study. Caroline had heard every word from the library.
Right now they were probably nearing Prewitt Hall, preparing to break into the south drawing room…
Without her.
“Stupid, stupid men,” she grumbled. She flexed her ankle. Not even the teeniest bit of pain. “Clearly, I could have accompanied them. I wouldn't have slowed them down.”
Dressed entirely in black, they'd both looked heart-stoppingly handsome. As she'd watched them leave, Caroline had felt unbearably frumpy. She was wearing one of the new dresses Blake had purchased for her, but she still felt like a rather plain pigeon next to those two dashing ravens.