Thanks to everyone who is reading/reviewing/following this! This chapter is a bit longer because I wanted a certain meeting to take place already. Ahem. But the dinner party will need a part two, which is coming in my next update. Let me know what you think! :D
The valet buttoned Klaus' cufflinks and finished with a final touch up of his ascot. It was too much fussing for a bloody family breakfast as far as Klaus was concerned.
He shoved past the valet and went straight for his crystal decanter. Whiskey was the only thing sustaining him through his time here. His sister continued to become less and less tolerable, and Kol more of a sod. Worse, every day it became progressively difficult to sit at his mother's table. To face her. To act as if he wasn't aware of her deception… But he had to keep it together until he knew all the detail. Until he was sure.
Without realizing it, he was downing a second glass. A third, and finally he was sufficiently buzzed to endure his bloody family.
When Klaus entered, Rebekah was only just settling into her usual seat at the breakfast table. She jabbered on and about some triviality or other while Kol mocked her.
Murmuring good morning, Klaus took the seat across from her, and waved the butler over for tea. "Any messages for me?"
"I'll bring them right over, My Lord." The butler bowed and scurried off. He returned with a silver tray bearing three small envelopes.
Klaus snatched them, wading through on his lap. Rubbish—rubbish—was that…? Of course. The blasted seal that for months he'd been awaiting, and dreading in equal measure, had finally shown up. His chest ceased to rise and his hands, suddenly cold, itched to shred the thing to bits without opening it. But also he felt a strong incline to look. He had to know. And really, what would he have to say to him after everything?
"Anything interesting, Nik?" Rebekah craned her neck. No one was allowed secrets in their house according to her. His sweet, naive little sister.
He tucked the envelopes safely inside his coat and smiled. "Invites for tea. If you find those interesting, sister, you are more than welcome to go in my place. You see, I intend to return to London tomorrow. Sitting around in Bath has been so dreadfully boring, I can no longer stand it."
"You're not leaving me behind, Nik." Kol flashed Rebekah a faux-rueful smile. "Apologies, sister, but society calls are a bore. The whole city is a bore. What I wouldn't do to be in London today. I miss the clubs and our activities…and especially the many flavors of women of easy virtue."
Rebekah clinked her teacup in its saucer and stared between them with an expression locked between disbelief and horror. "Are you mad? Mother will skin you both. And skin me too, for—"
"For what reason will I be skinning you, Rebekah?"
They all jumped.
The Countess had entered without any of them noticing, ever so sly. She approached the table in quick strides, her silk skirts swishing over the marble floors while her heels drummed. She was scarcely seated before the butler brought her morning mail.
"You should be asking Nik, Mother. It's his pigheaded design." Rebekah picked up her teacup and met his glare coolly. "Go on, tell her."
There were times when Klaus so wanted to strangle her. If only she weren't his little sister or a girl. Sighing softly, he said, "Mother, I'm planning to—"
"No."
"You haven't—"
"You want to return to London, correct? My answer is no." The Countess didn't even look at him—too busy shuffling through the five envelopes she'd been sent that morning. "You've been gone from society for too long as it is, any longer then it will be quite unbecoming. I won't stand for it. And you owe me grandchildren, Niklaus. You're reaching your thirties. Consider that."
Klaus growled involuntarily, only just restraining his fury into a tight bundle in his chest. "I owe you nothing, mother. Less than nothing."
At last, noting something amiss, the Countess froze and met his stare. "You owe me your obedience so long as I pay your expenses. Have you forgotten who funds your stay in London? When you inherit, Niklaus, then you may do whatever you please. Until then, you are under my rule. And I will be very severe with you if you disrespect me again. Understood?"
It took all of Klaus' will not to counter with accusations he had promised himself to hold back until their due. Instead he left the table for another shot of whiskey. She was going to pay…
"Now, Rebekah, am I right to understand that we're entertaining tonight?"
Rebekah's eyes widened at being so abruptly accosted after the cold talking to Klaus had received. But like always, she quickly found her poise. Always and forever their mother's daughter. "The Gilberts, mother. And their friend, Caroline Forbes."
"I see. They're good sort of people, I suppose."
"I mostly invited them for Miss Forbes. She's a lovely girl, but hopelessly country. I'd like to be a mentor to her in all things to do with good society."
Kol squinted at her. "A mentor? You? Are you serious?"
But Rebekah ignored him and smiled brightly at their mother going on some more about the country girl. Not that the Countess was even listening. She read through her mail, and barely glanced at Rebekah once. And while Klaus was helping himself to a dish of soft-boiled eggs with a side of fried eggplant, the Countess finally spoke again. "Elijah will be coming in a fortnight."
Maybe Klaus imagined it, but Kol and Rebekah's eyes flickered to him.
He glared at each for good measure. "There is no dissention between Elijah and myself. It's been a long time since I've ceased to care about her—she doesn't even warrant a mention. Not anymore. And I'll be happy to see Elijah. Actually, I'd much rather him over the two of you."
Kol rolled his eyes and Rebekah coldly said, "In that case, I do hope Elijah will work miracles and make you less toilsome to be around."
"Finn writes too," the Countess said, refolding the letter that must've been his.
"He's coming back?" Rebekah said.
"No, he asks for money. Though, of course, given his situation I will grant it to him. However, I hope my other children know that they shall not be expecting me to fund their whole lives." Her eyes went to Kol and stayed there. "Any prospects?"
Kol sneered. "Many, mother. Though none you'd approve of."
While the attention was otherwise preoccupied, Klaus slid a hand inside his coat and retracted the envelope resting over his heart.
I'll be in Bath soon. We shall have to meet.
To Caroline's great relief, Mrs. Gilbert sent her lady's maid to help dress for dinner at the Countess' residence.
Unlike Caroline's own back home, the maid was a stout, stony-faced woman. She remained that way, as much as Caroline smiled and tried to engage her in conversation, asking a thousand innocent questions about her life. But oh, city folk were a cold kind. Caroline eventually gave up, resigned to staring at herself with no outlet for her nervousness. However, her mood lightened when she saw that the maid had worked magic on her tresses, arranging them in an immaculate updo threaded with silk ribbons and pearls, with a few loose rings to decorate her neck and face. Exactly as Caroline had requested!
The maid answered Caroline's many exclamations of appreciation with a tight humph, too preoccupied with her finish. At last, she tugged hard on Caroline's curled fringes, and when they bounced back into shape she was satisfied. "You look marvelous, Miss Forbes."
Caroline raised her brow at the sudden change in the woman. Until then she'd been resigned to not receiving a single expression of praise. Or even that many words strung together. It was a nice surprised. She'd worried that she had annoyed the woman, as she was prone to do.
Pleased, she thanked her again and said, "Am I appropriate for the Countess' company?"
"You're appropriate for even the Queen's."
Caroline highly doubted that, though she allowed the compliment with a laugh. Then allowed the maid her leave to see to Mrs. Gilbert.
Caroline was decidedly happy with the result of the last two hours of preparation. Her make up was light, but as immaculate as her hair. Her gown was the dusty pink chiffon she had so luckily brought with her—yesterday she had pitied Elfie lugging about her slightly massive luggage, but today she had no regrets. And her jewelry was adequately fine for a highly respectable dinner.
Twisting around in front of her mirrors to inspect every angle, Caroline jumped at Mrs. Gilbert's sudden reflection. She turned quickly, grinning. "Thank you for sending your lady's maid, Mrs. Gilbert. I would've been a mess without her."
"I wouldn't leave you without, Caroline. Your mother would never let me hear the end of it. And please, it's Miranda." Mrs. Gilbert came closer to inspect. But instead of nodding in approval, her forehead furrowed.
Oh no—Caroline's heart sank. Did she commit some fashion faux pas she knew nothing of? The women of London were so distinct, so unusual…What was the matter? That last thought, she blurted out.
Mrs. Gilbert's eyes met Caroline's and she nodded before settling into a chair close to Caroline's vanity. Pointedly focused on dusting imaginary flakes from her skirts, she said, "Would you consider me as your confident, somewhat of an aunt, Caroline?"
"Of course I do, Mrs.—Miranda. If mother thought you less, she never let me come. And if I thought you less, I wouldn't want to."
Miranda smiled faintly. But the lines in her forehead remained.
"Oh please, now you must tell me. The mystery is going to be the end of me."
"It's nothing grievous, Caroline dear. Not yet. Probably never. Though, I cannot help but worry."
"Worry? Why?"
Miranda's gaze returned to Caroline's again, and her hands flew up to clear a fringe out of her eyes. "You're lovely, so lovely, Caroline. And you have a fair fortune. Those two things put together makes me fear that you may become quite interesting to the Countess' sons. And while their birth is fine, their reputation more than implies that the young lords are not at all gallant. Hence, I worry. As you know, darling, society overlooks bad behavior committed by men. But never for us, women."
There was more than one of them? Caroline cringed imagining multiples of the boy from yesterday ringed around her, showering her with inappropriate looks and nonstop crude comments.
"Don't trouble yourself, Miranda. I'm quite capable of handling my affairs. And I have no patience for rude, juvenile behavior from adult men."
Klaus had scarcely entered through the front doors when Rebekah was upon him in a rush of mint silks and glittering jewels, accosting him in hushed fury. "Where in the bloody hell have you been? I've slaved away all day organizing this dinner, and this is how you repay me? I could have been dining elsewhere with a dozen eligible bachelors. This is what I get for being a loving sister. I'll know next time not to bother. In fact—"
"Hush, sister. Hush before you make a scene." He stared pointedly behind her where a tall, feminine form slipped out of the drawing rooms at the far end of the hallway. "That is your country friend, I gather?"
Rebakah's breathing grew heavy while she reigned in her anger. Of course, the stare she gave him when she glanced back showed that wasn't about to let this go. "Don't you dare embarrass me at my own dinner party, Nik!"
"I wouldn't dream of it, sister."
She answered his smile with a grimace that quickly disappeared when she turned to wave the country girl over. "Caroline, darling, what are you wandering about for?"
The girl, Caroline, quickened her pace and Klaus watched with some amusement as her immodestly covered bosom bounced as a result. She was certainly a rose, just as Rebekah had said. Tall, slender, and fair, she possessed all the natural beauties of youth. And as she came closer, her light flowery scent held a tinge of grass that surprisingly didn't put him off. Quite the opposite.
"Brother, this is the flower I've been telling you about, Miss Caroline Forbes. Isn't she a doll?"
Klaus swept her up and down, and smiled slowly. "Yes, a doll."
She flushed at the compliment, though the smile that followed was not the slightest bit abashed. "You're too kind, My Lord, My Lady."
The Countess had only one kind child, and he'd yet to surpass adolescence. The girl's naivety was almost delicious—such a sweet thing to ruin.
"Caroline, this is my brother, Niklaus. I dare say he's more palatable in good company than the troll you met yesterday."
She allowed him to take her gloved hand and he kept his eyes locked onto hers—such sparkling lively things they were—even while he brushed his lips over her knuckles.
"Will you promise to delight us with a song after dinner, love?" He held her hand in place, as if threatening to keep it hostage until she agreed.
"Yes, please do. Mother will be so excited to see the lyre put in use. A rare few attempt to learn the beastly thing these days. You're an ambitious girl."
Caroline blushed a deeper shade than before, but nodded her head so hard her curled fringes bounced. "I do love to play. And I love a grateful audience even more."
Rebekah glanced at him—never one to pass up a chance to be smug. He smirked back.
As if remembering something all of a sudden, Caroline looked about. "What ever happened to your other brother, Lord Kol? He's not ill, is he?"
Rebekah scowled. "Goodness, no. He's just an insulting, ungrateful bastard who has yet to appreciate his little sister and pay her the smallest bit of respect."
Klaus' lips curled at one end. And when Caroline opened her mouth to undoubtedly spew some soothing nonsense, he shook his head at her. She trusted him and closed her mouth again.
"Rebekah, sweetheart, there's something—"
As if on a cue, the front doors burst open behind them. And in stumbled Kol in a state that was not meant to be seen by ladies' eyes. "Nik, you wouldn't believe what the little sod—"
"What the bloody…" Rebekah's words trailed off, hearing Caroline's shocked little whimper. "Kol? What happened?"
The two girls rushed on, flanking him, staring with wide eyes.
Klaus didn't bother. He hung back, grateful to Kol for winning Rebekah's sharp-tongued disapproval over him. And she was in such a hilarious state—furious with Kol for arriving late to her dinner and in such a miserable state, and yet, the very obvious nature of the red staining his once white cravat had her in a sympathetic fluster. "Are you hurt? Did you—did someone hurt you?"
But as Rebekah pelted him with inquiries—none of which he seemed keen to answer—Caroline slipped out of her gloves and quickly began undoing the dirty cravat.
"The blood isn't his. There are no wounds…" She bit her lip and glanced at Rebekah. "He should be fine with a wash and a change of clothes."
Rebekah's lips bunched. She finally had a license to be furious, since he wasn't really hurt. And she was going to let him have it. "Caroline, darling, would you return to the drawing rooms—you've suffered too much indecorum as is. I'll take care of my brother."
Caroline nodded cheerfully, leaving her gloves tucked into the ribbon high up on her waist.
Klaus quickly stepped by her, holding out his arm. "Let's find you a basin to wash up, love."
Her smile was raw and grateful. And like everything about her, untamed, so unlike the artful seduction practiced by the ladies of London. Like a wild horse she'd bristle at his advances, buckle at every too familiar touch even as she longed for it…a real challenge.
Just before he walked off with her on his arm, he twisted around and found Rebekah's stare. His smirk mirrored hers.
His sister knew him so well.
When Caroline had first arrived at the Countess' residence with the Gilberts, she'd been relieved to see that Mr. Gilbert would be the only male amongst them. What a welcome a surprise!
Rebekah, however, didn't seem terribly pleased.
When Caroline had asked about it, she pouted and complained that this was the first dinner she'd be hosting and that wanted as many of her family as she could have there to support her. Caroline didn't see the big problem, but maybe bigger families were more obsessive about each other's company. Caroline wouldn't know. She had no siblings—and the more she saw of Rebekah and her family, the more grateful she was for that.
When Rebekah had left the drawing rooms, Caroline had thought it best to follow, to try to comfort her. She hadn't expected everything that came after.
She certainly hadn't expected to find a second brother even more handsome, but perhaps he was only more to her taste. Further, she hadn't expected to enjoy looking at him. Enjoy being near him. It was the oddest thing. Like she was fast infatuated with a complete stranger. She supposed he reminded her of an animal of the wild, like the wolf she'd once seen as a girl…and nearly gotten herself killed.
"Please, call me Klaus, love."
Caroline allowed him to take her hand and dry it with the handkerchief the servants had brought alongside the washbasin. He was so very attentive. And after, he held it, bare. And brought it to his lips. The hint of stubble tickled her, but his lips were so soft, and so hot.
She imagined their soft touch on her neck. Pressing hotly to her lips. Heat creep up along her neck at the thought.
Her color must've changed because his smile was too knowing. It made Caroline rather prompt—practically aggressive—about snatching her hand away and quickly dressing it with her glove.
"Shall we?"
That smile wasn't gone yet.
She met it with a cool look. "Yes, let's. The others should be seated at the dining table."
She desperately hoped she'd be assigned a place far from Klaus. Otherwise eating was going to be difficult business. She'd get nervous and then have to worry over slopping things, like a child not yet accustomed to proper maneuver of her utensils.
But even that seemed to be written all over her face, because Klaus leaned in and whispered, "Would like me to feed you, love? I'll be tender."
"Sir," she squeaked in protestation and would've had more to say if he hadn't hushed her. The surprise of it had snuffed her protests.
"Don't make a scene, sweetheart. The Countess wouldn't approve."
He was right. It would be most inappropriate…
Caroline smiled tightly, as if to acquiesce. Then stumped her heel on his booted toes, earning a harsh breath from him.
"Point taken," he muttered. And to her annoyance, he sounded more amused than cross.
Caroline had been warned about him, and otherwise, she knew better. He was more charming than his brother, but also the same inappropriate, juvenile, and ungallant sort. The attraction she felt for him was shallow, barely a millimeter deep. And inconsequential. Likely to fade after a good night's rest—she took especial comfort in that.
He paused before the doors to the dining hall, halting her, and lowered his face to her smirking. "You look nervous, love. Anything I can do?"
Yes, sod off!
But she couldn't very well say that to the Countess' son right outside of her dinning hall where their voices could carry. So Caroline smiled coolly and nodded, allowing him to escort her in.
It was going to be a long, difficult evening. For all Miranda's warning, Caroline hadn't anticipated just how difficult it would be.
The dinner party part two, coming soon. Though, I think I will have to up the rating as a certain relationship progresses, heh.