Caroline barely had time to savor the golden tendrils of sunlight filtering through the heavy drapes of her bedroom before the sharp, clipped voice of her mother shattered the morning's fragile peace.
"I cannot believe you, Caroline," Elizabeth Forbes seethed, her footsteps echoing like thunder as she paced the length of the room, radiating a restrained fury that only years of perfecting social decorum could produce. "You were gone for hours! While the daughters of every respectable family were securing their futures, where were you?" She spun on her heel, her eyes narrowing like a hawk's. "Certainly not dancing with any eligible gentlemen."
Still cocooned in the silken embrace of her sheets, Caroline rubbed her temples, feeling the telltale ache of too much champagne and too little patience. "Mother, please—"
"Do not 'Mother, please' me," the older woman snapped, the words slicing through the air like a sharpened blade. "Lord Chamberlain's son danced with Lady Beatrice twice. Twice! Do you know what that means?"
"That Lady Beatrice is very light on her feet?" Caroline retorted, a flicker of defiance pairing with the early hour to ignite a feeling of bravery in her chest.
Elizabeth's nostrils flared, her normally poised composure cracking like fragile glass. "It means," she continued as if her daughter hadn't spoken —something that Elizabeth would have preferred Caroline do a bit less- without missing a beat, "she now has his interest, Caroline. The kind of interest that could have been yours had you not been gallivanting about the gardens with God only knows who."
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Caroline sighed feeling the coolness of the wooden floor beneath her feet. Though the specifics of how she had let her mother down the night before were new, this was not an argument that was new to the Forbes' household, "I wasn't gallivanting."
"Oh?" Elizabeth guffawed, the tempest in her tone rising, "Then where were you?"
"I was making a friend," Caroline replied simply. Never mind that her heart began racing with the mere memory of the thrill of her clandestine adventures from the night before: hours spent simply enjoying being a young woman, the excitement of making a new friend, and meeting a handsome stranger amongst the glittering atmosphere of a London Ball in the height of the social season.
"A friend? And who, pray tell, is this friend that was so important as to take precedence over every eligible bachelor in attendance?"
Caroline hesitated for a mere heartbeat before saying, "Rebekah Mikaelson."
At that, her mother's expression faltered, the name hanging in the air like a whispered secret. Even Elizabeth, for all her social climbing, could not deny the intrigue that surrounded the Mikaelson name. To be both obviously wealthy and an utter mystery were two things that never aligned, the Mikaelson family being the only exception to that rule.
"That family," the older of the two began, her words now slow and drawn out as her thoughts rearranged in her mind to accommodate the newly provided information, "they are… wealthy."
Caroline arched her brow as she pulled on her robe before settling at the small settee and occupying her hands with making her morning cup of tea. Despite her spirit having been bolstered by the rare occurrence of her mother being at a loss for words, she made no sudden movements for fear of prematurely spooking her mother out of her current docile state. "As you so often remind me, wealth is a very good thing… correct?"
Cutting her deep blue eyes in her daughter's direction, Elizabeth exhaled sharply. "Yes, but they are also an ostentatiously private family," Her voice was laced with caution as she continued, "Money does not always account for good breeding and something about them is very unsettling. Old money, but their lineage is unclear. There are rumors."
Had Caroline been taking a sip of her tea, she would have choked —in a very unladylike manner that Elizabeth surely would have chastised relentlessly— at the idea of her participating in something as un-ladylike as participating in open gossip. "Rumors?" She asked, doing her best to pretend that her curiosity wasn't piqued despite her interest now being fully captured by the topic at hand. "What sort of rumors?"
Her mother waved a dismissive hand, the gesture as elegant as it was dismissive. "Nothing worth repeating, I'm sure." She gave her head the slightest shake as if she could dislodge the incomplete thoughts that filled her mind where the illusive and illustrious family was concerned, I have no doubt that their riches and good standing ensure any scandal is swiftly handled. In any case, it would do you well to remember that you would not be granted the same anonymity should you be linked to anything untoward with that family. "
Caroline hummed in thought, as disappointed in the lack of information as she was intrigued, as her mind drifted back to Rebekah and her brother, Klaus. She couldn't explain it, but she had sensed a difference the moment she met Rebekah, but last night—when she encountered Klaus—there had been something else, something almost familiar in the way that he looked at her.
Completely unaware of the train of thoughts that Caroine had been lost to, Elizabeth fixed her with her best unamused look. "This family will not stand the mention of our name in the tabloids unless it is linked with a marriage announcement. Do you understand me, child?"
All Caroline knew was the insatiable urge to know more that was growing inside of her. "I understand, Mother."
Understanding and caring, though, were two different things.
…
Later that afternoon, after the morning tea with her mother had trickled to a close with little more than Caroline offering polite smiles and half-hearted laughter while Elizabeth carried on with compiling her usual list of qualities that the younger girl should be in want for in a husband, Caroline found herself standing before a stunning array of fabric swatches in Madame Laurant's shop. The vibrant colors seemed to pulse with life, each piece whispering tales of elegance and allure. Yet, as she ran her fingers over the fine silks and richly dyed velvets, her mind wandered back to the surprising turn of events of the night before. It was in her thoughts of her new friendship with Rebekah and the surprising introduction to her brother where the niggling suspicion of shadows danced and secrets lingered within her mind.
"Are you planning to select a fabric anytime today, or do you prefer to simply stare at them until they wither?" A voice, laced with amusement, shattered her reverie and forced her back into the here and now.
Caroline turned sharply, her heart skipping a beat as she recognized Rebekah Mikaelson, resplendent in a pale blue gown that framed her golden hair like a halo. A soft blush quickly painted up Caroline's fair features, embarrassment for being caught daydreaming — about Rebekah's brother, a complete stranger, nonetheless! — coloring her cheeks.
With a practiced smile, Caroline masked her surprise. "I wasn't staring. I was… considering."
Rebekah's smirk was infectious, her eyes glinting with playful mischief. "Ah, yes. Considering. A most important task, I'm sure."
Caroline chuckled, seizing the moment to shift the conversation and glad for the company of her new friend, despite her mother's earlier cryptic and out-of-character warning against forming attachments with the Mikaelsons. "Since you're here, perhaps you can help me."
"Help you with fabric?" Rebekah feigned horror, her expression exaggerated as a lace-glove hand lifted to clutch at the pearl choker that dangled delicately from her neck. "Darling, I would rather expire on the spot."
"Not with fabric," Caroline said with a soft laugh as she returned the swatch of flora-embroidered silk to the display. Lowering her voice conspiratorially, the thrill of secrecy igniting her spirit. "I need… I would like your help with something else."
Rebekah leaned in, curiosity piqued like a flame catching wind. "Go on..."
Caroline hesitated as she considered the young woman before her. She took a deep breath before continuing with her thought, her heart racing as she prepared to delve deeper into the mystery that was Klaus Mikaelson. She felt a strange mix of excitement and apprehension, knowing that her curiosity about him could jeopardize her budding friendship with Rebekah. "Tell me about your brother."
Rebekah's smirk morphed into something wicked, mischief dancing in her eyes. Even all, Caroline could sense a flicker of caution beneath the other woman's playful demeanor.. "Which one?"
"You very well know which one." Caroline laughed hesitantly, the words tumbling around in her mind but unsure if she should pursue the conversation further should Rebekah not wish to share so soon in their friendship. The last thing that Caroline wanted Rebekah to think was that she was merely using her as a source of information about Klaus. She valued this new connection between them, this unexpected friendship that felt as if it had been forged over years rather than mere hours, and wouldn't dream of causing her new friend harm or discomfort over a slight fancy.
"Ah, you mean Nik," Rebekah said, her tone dripping with intrigue and seemingly nonplussed by Caroline's inquiry. "Why the sudden curiosity?"
Perhaps, for once, Elizabeth had been mistaken in her report on the elusive nature of the Mikaelsons? Even still Caroline chose her words carefully. Glancing away, Caroline pretended to study a delicate lace trim, her heart fluttering with a mix of fear and fascination. "Last night was such a whirlwind - I have never been free to simply roam a party like that. My nights usually revolve around how many times I can rotate the dancefloor without growing dizzy. I just… I had such an utterly fabulous time getting to know you. And then he… Well, I just found him… interesting."
"Interesting is one word for him," Rebekah laughed lightly as she spoke, her voice a musical note not touched by the other soft conversations of the other groups of ladies, mamas, and maids that filled the popular dress makers boutique. "Most people find Nik infuriating."
Caroline bit her lip, the truth of her feelings bubbling just beneath the surface. She could see why, yet there was something deeper beneath Klaus Mikaelson's smirk—something that unsettled her in a way she wasn't ready to confront.
"Well, to start with: he's brilliant. Infuriatingly so, more often than not," Rebekah admitted as she continued, completely oblivious to Caroline's inner confusion. As she spoke of her brother, Caroline noticed that the sharpness of Rebekah's cool-toned eyes tended to soften with a hint of admiration. "He is an artist, though he doesn't share his work often. He sees things… differently than most."
"Differently, how?" Caroline echoed, her frown deepening as a trickle of confusion straightened her spine.
Rebekah hesitated, her gaze turning serious. "Let's just say my brother has a rather unforgiving nature. I am not sure what the gossip's have caught on to since our return to London, but Nik takes on a great deal of the burden as far as my siblings and I are concerned. Our parents…." She paused in a way that Caroline imagined she could practically see Rebekah picking and choosing what information to share before continuing, "Our mother passed away when we were all rather young and our father is one that is best to be avoided." She swallowed back whatever emotion attempted to cross her features before Caroline could decipher it, "Anyways, all of that is just to say that Nik is a complex man. He is fiercely loyal but, being raised as we were — essentially left to run free outside of our eldest brother's occasional blustering on etiquette and manners — he can also be… unpredictable." She tilted her head, her expression probing. "Are you certain you wish to know more?"
Caroline wasn't certain of anything, except that something about Klaus Mikaelson drew her in—whether she wanted it to or not. She lifted her chin, determination flooding her veins. "I'm certain."