Thanks for everyone who read/reviewed and is currently following this story. I'm having loads of fun writing it, and I just hope the fun is extended to the readers too. :)
Knackered, Caroline forced herself from the cool carriage seat and crouched, slipping through the door and carefully descending the steps. The driver tipped his hat at her and when her skirts were a safe distance away, he shut the door behind her. "Where will I be taking your luggage, Miss Forbes?"
"Right there, 26. Follow me, Elfie." But she hesitated, taking her time to tighten the ribbons of her bonnet. And to run her hand over the buttoned front of her short coat, smoothing away the sparse wrinkles. Travel weariness was no excuse for a ragged state of dress. Certainly not for her first appearance.
Though, Caroline would soon realize that standing about a sidewalk where smartly dressed strollers were frequent was perhaps not the brightest idea.
Case one, a little boy ran headfirst into her bum.
Caroline's scolding was quelled instantly by his unholy wailing. Though tearless, she noted.
"Apologies, Miss. He never looks where he goes," called his frazzled mother, rushing to snatch the boy to her side. And hopefully to shut him up. "Hush child. Please, hush…"
"No need," Caroline said through a smile hiding gritted teeth. Not that the woman was even paying attention anymore as she herded the child ahead. Turning sharply, she shook her head at Elfie. "Is Bath always this much of a zoo?"
He bowed his head, his lips upturned in amusement. "You'll get accustomed to it in time, Miss Forbes."
That might be so, but it didn't make it any less unpleasant.
As Caroline began to cross the sidewalk, she only just avoided a second collision. This time it wasn't with a child but with a tall, broad person. He spun on the spot, his eyes catching the hem of her skirts and slowly traveling up.
Caroline blushed, never having been so thoroughly examined by anyone of the other sex. Much less someone handsome.
Male company in the country was of little variety. Nearly all pudgy, slight, and piglet pink from all the riding they did for sport. Tall, dark and handsome was positively exotic.
But her admiration quickly turned to revulsion when the boy's face contorted into a vulgar smile and he said, "My, my, aren't you a delectable piece."
And just like that, Caroline's quicksilver temper got flared. She was about to share a few choice words with the lech, breaking her promise to her mother about keeping her tongue in check and her manners mild and pleasing. However, she'd only gotten out an enraged "Sir" before another stepped between, blocking the lech's way.
"Don't mind my ill mannered brother, dearie. He might've attended Oxford, but he has barely been weaned off our nanny's apron strings." More than her intervention, the girl's lavish silk skirts sparked Caroline's interest. Few would be dressed so fine this time of the day, and certainly not for a mere stroll about.
"Sister, you've been out for a whole day and half. Don't make me laugh."
But the girl ignored him and stepped closer to Caroline, her cheeks dimpling. "What he actually means is that you're a rose fresh for plucking."
Caroline chucked politely ignoring her still hot cheeks. "You're too kind."
"Hardly." The girl's smile widened. "Rebekah Mikaelson, Countess Esther's only daughter. The lecherous troll here is my brother, Kol. And you are?"
Caroline quickly bowed her head respectfully. Nobility seemed about right. For the girl at least. "Caroline Forbes. From Devonshire. Freshly vacated, actually."
"Devonshire? I shall have to visit there if all the girls are as pretty as you." The lech chuckled and leaned in over his sister's shoulder, sweeping Caroline's form up and down twice more. "Country women are wild breeds. So very amusing."
"Oh Kol, do shut up." Lady Rebekah glanced past Caroline to where Elfie was patiently waiting with her luggage. "Where are you headed, Miss Forbes?"
Caroline nudged her head towards the corner house. "Number 26. My friends, the Gilberts."
Lady Rebekah made no show of recognition but a second later, her brother tsked, his smirk returning. "Ah, yes. I remember the Gilberts. Mrs. Gilbert, specifically. She is pretty little thing. I did so enjoy her intercourse that one time at the Donovan's."
Caroline involuntarily shuddered. Flirtations were common enough, even in the country, but with a married woman?
Thankfully the siblings didn't seem to notice, too busy staring daggers at each other. Lord Kol cocked his head, feigning sympathy. "But you've never been to the Donovan's have you, sister? Of course not, you weren't out last summer."
She responded in a manner unbecoming of a lady by baring her teeth at him and hissing promises Caroline didn't quite catch. But then, she turned back to Caroline, all cheery smiles and sugary tones. "Well, whoever they are, the Gilbert sound like a fine bunch. I know it's short notice, but I'd be delighted to have you over for dinner the eve after next, Miss Forbes. And please, do bring your lovely friends."
Caroline gasped, earning identical arched brows from the sister and brother duo. Flushing, she declared that she'd love to. And that she was sure the Gilberts would love to as well.
And they most definitely would.
Already an invitation to dine with the Countess! And Caroline had only just arrived.
Oh, but what was she going to wear? Somehow, everything she had brought didn't seem quite magnificent enough, without being too magnificent. She couldn't very well show up in a ball gown. No, she had be elegant, appropriate, with a dash of the unexpected. A peacock feathers? Her new pearls? The lip stains her father had brought from the East… And with those thoughts buzzing around in her head, she bid farewell to the siblings, and finally did manage to cross the sidewalk unscathed.
Rebekah rushed past the front doors of her family's Bath residence, acknowledging the house staff with a distracted nod. Kol followed, tossing his hat in the air, round and round. They had just returned from visiting the Summerlin and he wouldn't shut up about the many charms of their four daughters. And how they'd inspired him to have four women, all at the same time.
"Honestly, Kol. Won't you shut up, already?"
If she were going to listen to any more of this, she'd need a proper drink. Not the flimsy brandy Mrs. Summerlin served. That horrid woman!
They found their older brother, Klaus, in the drawing rooms. Sitting leisurely at the far end, just as they'd left him some hours ago.
The sunlight seeping through the parting of the sheer window covers streaked his face, making his lashes and eyebrows translucent on one side with the other shaded. The shaded side hid a thin, curved scar he had acquired in India—something he never spoke about, though Rebekah had a few ideas. He held the copy of Machiavelli's The Prince upright on his lap, reading, while his right hand lazily spun a glass so that its amber contents calmly swayed.
"Nik, what the bloody hell are you doing? You were sitting right there with that book when we left. It's been two bloody hours!" But he barely paid any attention to her. As if she'd never said a thing. Rebekah rolled her eyes at Kol, then stomped over, snatching Klaus' scotch and chugging the burning liquid down in one long swallow.
There, she finally had his attention.
Klaus sighed, exasperated. "It was a different book, Rebekah. But never mind that. How was your day, sweetheart?"
She glanced over her shoulder to where Kol shot back the final swallows of his whiskey. "I spent my morning helping Kol hunt—tedious work, as he can't think past shedding his breeches. I don't know why I even bother."
"Poor thing," Klaus said, holding back a smile. "I'm sure Kol appreciates—"
"Jealous, Bekah?"
"I am not!"
"Don't lie, sister. It's not a good look."
"How dare you? I've been—"
"There, there children!" Klaus bellowed, clapping his hands for emphasis. "Let's not start an uproar. You know how mother gets when we disrupt her afternoon nap…"
Mentioning the Countess had an immediate effect—silence all around.
Kol rolled his eyes and filled his glass some more, while Rebekah shot daggers at him, then at Klaus.
Klaus for his part sighed and reached over to the side table for the crystal scotch decanter to pour himself another. Then refill Rebekah's. "Any amusing accounts, sister?"
Plied by liquor, Rebekah's good spirits immediately returned. "There was one thing. Do you know the Gilberts, Nik? I've invited them to dine here the evening after next. And they'll bring their friend, Caroline Forbes—a darling girl fresh out of Devonshire."
His eyebrows jumped up. "A country girl? Are you so deprived of female companionship, sister?"
"Don't be daft, Nik. I plucked her for you. All wide-eyed and pretty, no doubt with strong notions of propriety, like all country girls. I thought it would cheer you up to ruin her. Just like old times." She glanced over her shoulder again, and this time to exchange knowing grins with Kol. "Kol found her charming, didn't you?"
"Yes—charming." His steps brought him close.
"Tell him, Kol."
"You'd like her, Nik. Tasty thing. And wound up so tight—ripe to be unraveled." He reached under Rebekah's chin and gave a sharp tug, undoing her ribbons completely. "Our sister knows how to pick them."
Klaus looked away.
He'd been caught in a persistent foul mood since returning from India. And Rebekah couldn't stand it. They should be celebrating after—after everything…
Their mother had always told Rebekah that they were cursed with unhappiness, like all nobles. That their lives would be a constant struggle, a battlefield with duty, reputation, and desire for power on one side, and the lesser wants on the other. And too often the lesser wants prevailed. To everyone's misfortune.
Rebekah was nearly eighteen, and had seen proof of that. Also proof of the skillful manner with which her family hid their missteps. Her eldest brother, Finn, was officially dead, when actually their father had disinherited him when he disobeyed by eloping with the gypsy whore, Sage. Or how Klaus' dalliance with Tatia was swept under the carpet the moment Elijah's engagement was announced. And Klaus was forced out of the country to oversee their father's lesser trade practices in the colonies—unsavory details often ignored in polite company. Still, at the core of their misfortune sat their father. And since he had died, Rebekah's greatest wish was for her family to rise above the past.
But Mikael had left too many damn scars.
"Nik, can't you pretend to enjoy yourself a little?"
He growled, wolf like. "Perhaps. But first, sod off, the both of you."
Rebekah and Kol traded scowls.
Niklaus used to be such fun.