“You do have a point,” Caroline conceded, eyeing the gun with a wary grimace.
“I rarely speak just for the sake of hearing my own voice.”
Caroline sighed. “I wish I could say the same. I often speak without first considering my words. It's a dreadful habit.” She bit her lip, realizing that she was telling a total stranger about her faults. “Like right now,” she added sheepishly.
But the lady just laughed. It was a happy, friendly sort of laugh, and it put Caroline right at ease. Enough so that she said, “My name is Miss…Dent.”
“Dent? I'm not familiar with that name.”
Caroline shrugged. “It's not terribly common.”
“I see. I am the Countess of Fairwich.”
A countess? Good gracious, there seemed to be quite a few aristocrats in this little corner of England of late. First James, now this countess. And Blake, although not titled, was the second son of the Viscount Darnsby. Caroline glanced up toward heaven and mentally thanked her mother for making sure that she taught her daughter the rules of etiquette before she died. With a smile and a curtsy, Caroline said, “I'm quite pleased to meet you, Lady Fairwich.”
“And I you, Miss Dent. Do you reside in the area?”
Oh dear, how to answer that one? “Not too terribly far away,” she hedged. “I often take long walks when the weather is fine. Are you also from this area?”
Caroline immediately bit her lip. What a stupid question. If the countess was indeed from the Bournemouth area, it would stand to reason that everyone would know about it. And Caroline would immediately be revealed as an impostor.
Luck, however, was on her side, and the countess said, “Fairwich is in Somerset. But I am coming from London today.”
“Are you? I have never been to our capital. I should like to go someday.”
The countess shrugged. “It grows a bit hot in the summer with all the crowds. There is nothing like the fresh sea air to make one feel whole again.”
Caroline smiled at her. “Indeed. Alas, if it could only mend a broken heart…”
Oh, stupid stupid mouth. Why had she said that? She had meant it as a joke, but now the countess was grinning and looking at her in that maternal sort of way that meant she was going to ask an extremely personal question.
“Oh, dear. Is your heart broken, then?”
“Let's just say it's a bit bruised,” she said, thinking that she was getting far too good at the art of lying. “It's just a boy I've known all my life. Our fathers were hoping for a match, but…” She shrugged, letting the countess draw her own conclusions.
“Pity. You are a darling girl. I should introduce you to my brother. He lives quite nearby.”
“Your brother?” Caroline croaked, suddenly taking in the countess's coloring. Black hair. Gray eyes.
Oh, no.
“Yes. He is Mr. Blake Ravenscroft of Seacrest Manor. Do you know him?”
Caroline practically choked on her tongue, then managed to say, “We have been introduced.”
“I am on my way to visit him right now. Are we very far from his home? I have never been.”
“No. No, it's—it's just over the hill there.” She pointed in the general direction of Seacrest Manor, then quickly brought her hand down when she realized it was shaking. What was she going to do? She couldn't remain at Seacrest Manor with Blake's sister in residence. Oh, damn and blast that man to hell and back! Why hadn't he told her his sister would be paying a visit?
Unless he didn't know. Oh, no. Blake was going to be furious. Caroline swallowed nervously and said, “I didn't realize Mr. Ravenscroft had a sister.”
The countess waved her hand in a manner that reminded Caroline instantly of Blake. “He's a wretch, always ignoring us. Our older brother just had a daughter. I've come to tell him the news.”
“Oh. I'm—I'm—I'm certain he'll be delighted.”
“Then you're the only one. I am quite certain he'll be beyond annoyed.”
Caroline blinked furiously, not understanding this woman one bit. “I—I—I beg your pardon?”
“David and Sarah had a daughter. Their fourth daughter, which means that Blake is still second in line for the viscountcy.”
“I…see.” Actually, she didn't, but she was so happy she hadn't stuttered she didn't much care.
The countess sighed. “If Blake is to be Viscount Darnsby, which is not entirely unlikely, then he'll have to marry and produce an heir. If you live in this area, then I'm sure you are aware he is a confirmed bachelor.”
“Actually, I don't really know him very well at all.” Caroline wondered if she sounded just a bit too determined to make that point, so she added, “Just at—at local functions and all that. You know, county dances and the like.”
“Really?” the countess asked with undisguised interest. “My brother has attended a provincial county dance? The mind boggles. I suppose that next you're going to try to tell me that the moon recently crashed into the channel.”
“Well,” Caroline added, swallowing rather painfully, “he only attended once. It's a…small community here near Bournemouth, and so naturally I know who he is. Everyone knows who he is.”
The countess was silent for a moment, and then she abruptly said, “You say my brother's house isn't very far?”
“Why no, my lady. It shouldn't take more than a quarter of an hour to walk there.” Caroline eyed the trunks. “You'll have to leave your things behind, of course.”
The countess waved her hand in the air in what Caroline was now terming the Ravenscroft wave. “I shall simply have my brother send his men to fetch them later.”