The Husband List

  “It was right of me to insist that we arrive early,” her mother said as they pulled onto the polo grounds. “We’re going to be in the front row, and Lord Bremerton will be sure to see you.”

  It was a Newport tradition for lady spectators to stay in their carriages while they watched a match. The view was better, and they stood less chance of injury if the play left the field.

  “Keep an eye out for him and see if you can draw his attention before the match begins,” Mama instructed after she’d made sure the coachman had negotiated their way into a prime viewing spot.

  “Yes, Mama,” Caroline said while willing herself to be inconspicuous.

  The polo club was fielding two teams this afternoon, one led by Mr. Carstairs and the other by Eddie. Mama, naturally, had chosen Carstairs’ side of the enormous field, since Bremerton played for him. Directly opposite them, Harriet Vandermeulen sat in a barouche with Alice Hayes. Harriet happily waved. Caroline figured she must have been dropped from Harriet’s adversaries list after Harriet had seen her with Bremerton last night.

  Eddie and five other men stood on Harriet’s side of the field, with their grooms and ponies behind them. Eddie’s string of ponies were his pride. He’d had them shipped in from England. Caroline spotted his two favorite mounts—tall, matching bays who were proof that polo ponies were not ponies at all. Both horses were saddled and ready to play.

  Caroline smiled as she watched her brother talk to his teammates, who all wore bright blue-and-white striped jerseys. Only three of the men would play with him, and two would stand as reserves. She easily picked out Charles Vandermeulen from the group. Two were the Arnott brothers, and another looked to be Robert Conable. She wasn’t positive who the broad-shouldered player with his back to her was, though he looked markedly like Jack. But Jack wasn’t a polo regular, so that was unlikely. Caroline willed the man to turn or at least move so no one else stood in her line of vision.

  Bremerton was riding up. He wore the black-and-navy striped jersey of Mr. Carstairs’ club team, along with the obligatory white polo jodhpurs and brown riding boots.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Maxwell … Miss Maxwell,” he said with nods to both of them.

  “Good afternoon, Lord Bremerton. Caroline and I are looking forward to seeing you play,” Mama said with a bob of her parasol that made Bremerton’s mount shy.

  The Englishman easily reined the horse in. “It should be an interesting match. Field conditions are rough after the showers that passed though this morning.”

  “I am sure it will be no challenge to you, and that your team will win,” Mama said.

  Caroline bit back a sigh. Mama had fully switched her allegiance.

  “Thank you,” the Englishman said. “While I’ve gotten to know my teammates better in the few days I’ve been here, both the greatest challenge and greatest reward lies in playing as a unit.”

  “That’s so true,” Mama said, nodding approvingly.

  Caroline kept her eyes downcast so she wouldn’t roll them.

  “I regret today will be my last time to play here,” Bremerton said. “It’s a gray day in more than just the weather. I received some unfortunate news this morning. My father, who has been in ill health for some time, is doing poorly. I’ll be leaving Newport tonight and sailing Saturday on the Lucania, from New York.”

  Caroline kept a composed face, but inside she danced a jig. “I’m sorry to hear about your father.”

  “That is a shame,” Mama said. “But if you don’t sail until Saturday, surely you can stay in Newport at least another day?” She hadn’t even bothered to hide her panic.

  Bremerton shook his head. “I’m afraid I also have business I must see to in New York.” He paused. “Is there any possibility your family will be in London soon? We had little time to get to know each other, and I’d like to extend our acquaintance.”

  Caroline’s happy music stopped.

  “What a wonderful coincidence!” Mama said. “Mr. Maxwell and I were talking just this morning about making a visit to our London residence.”

  Her mother was lying, and even Bremerton knew it. He had no other reason to look so self-satisfied.

  “But Mama, Helen and Amelia have commitments well though August,” Caroline said. “It doesn’t seem fair to make them leave Newport when nothing is as special as a summer by the sea.”

  “They’re very excited at the prospect of travel,” her mother replied without looking Caroline’s way. “I take it, then, that you will be in London, Lord Bremerton?”

  “Yes. I will be staying at my father’s home until I can assure myself that he is on the mend.”

  “Perfect!”

  If Caroline hadn’t already heard about Viscount Bellingham’s poor health, she would have been certain that Bremerton had manufactured it to force her away from Jack. And she had her suspicions, just the same.

  “Would you mind, Mrs. Maxwell, if your daughter and I spoke a moment in private?” Bremerton asked.

  Mama rose as though ready to spring from the carriage. “Of course not.”

  “I don’t want to disturb you, ma’am,” he said.

  The Englishman grasped his pony’s reins in one hand and gave a flick of the other in the direction of a groom in Carstairs’ team colors. The boy hurried over. Bremerton dismounted and turned the pony over to him. At the same time, Mama had prodded the coachman to help Caroline down and then to go fetch Eddie.

  “Perhaps over this way,” Bremerton said to Caroline when she’d reached the soggy ground.

  He held out his arm. She took it, feeling as though she were on a leash, like Mama’s little Pomeroy. Taking a leisurely pace, Bremerton led her in the direction of the polo club’s rustic clubhouse.

  “This morning it occurred to me that you might think I plan to tell your father what I witnessed in the conservatory last night,” Bremerton said.

  “And I’m sure that also occurred to you last night when I stayed pinned to your side.”

  He laughed. “I hope you retain your sharp wit once we are married.”

  She glared at him, no longer willing to hide her emotions. “Is your father actually ill?”

  He stopped walking, but did not let her go. “Caroline, you wound me. Of course he is. And because I wish to be considerate of your feelings and not leave you in doubt, I want you to know that the scene in the conservatory didn’t dissuade me. I still plan to pursue our eventual marriage.”

  “How could you? You know I have feelings for someone else.”

  “That is unfortunate for you,” he said crisply. “But in the history of marriage, you are hardly unique. I am sure you’ll find someone to take the Irishman’s place in your affections once you’re settled in England. It might even be me.”

  She couldn’t quite decide if he’d meant that to be humorous. “Why should it matter to you, when you have no feelings for me?”

  “I’d say that no feelings is overstating the case. I do have some. And after what I saw last night, I even have a certain amount of optimism that our marriage won’t be a complete bore.”

  Caroline could feel heat rising on her face, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of witnessing her embarrassment.

  “Are you planning to tell my father what you saw?” she asked.

  Bremerton, who’d been looking across the field, returned his attention to her. “Why should I, when everything is going in my favor? Your Irishman seems to be forever on the losing team.”

  * * *

  JACK TURNED away from Caroline and Bremerton and focused on his borrowed pony’s tack. Watching the supposed couple would only make him want to go over there and knock His Lordship free of a few teeth for upsetting Caroline. And while the Englishman and he were bound to tangle sooner or later, this wasn’t the place.

  Eddie approached. He looked as sour as Jack felt.

  “Sisters are a damned bother,” he said. “You should be relieved you don’t have any.”

  “What’s the matter?”

/>   “Because Caroline didn’t close the wedding deal with the Englishman, I’ve been conscripted to go with Mother and the girls to England, immediately. She won’t even ask Father … says he was difficult enough about coming to Newport.” He made a low sound of disgust. “That means I’ll have at least seven days at sea on the Conqueror. Seven days of pitching and rolling and heaving and…” He swallowed hard, and Jack laughed.

  “It’s not funny, damn it,” Eddie said.

  “Yes, it is. You’re making yourself seasick on dry land. You know, I’ve seen you hanging upside down off a galloping pony to make a shot. If that doesn’t make you sick, why does a ship?”

  “Because I’m in charge of the pony and not the ship.”

  “Then have your father give you a captain’s hat.”

  “That’s not funny,” Eddie said, though Jack was sure he’d caught a smile. But now Eddie was looking at him in a highly speculative way. “I’ve got an idea. You said you’re out of capital for acquisitions, right?”

  “Temporarily,” Jack admitted.

  “Then now is the ideal time for a beer tour of England. Pack your bags and come with me! When I’m not busy acting as the male of the Maxwell family, we’ll drink our way through every pub and brewery we can find.”

  If Caroline was going to be around Bremerton, Jack didn’t want to be an ocean away. The beer was just a damn nice bonus. “Sign me on.”

  “Done!” Eddie said.

  “Are you two ready?” Charles Vandermeulen called to them. “Mount up and get moving!”

  * * *

  “MAMA, THE match is starting,” Caroline said. Now that she knew Jack was playing, she wanted no distractions, which meant her mother had to stop fussing.

  “I don’t have time to watch,” Mama said as she dug through her small bag. “Do you have anything I might take notes on?”

  “No,” Caroline replied. “You barely gave me time to grab a parasol before we left, let alone pack an office.”

  “Save me your snippiness and watch the match, then,” her mother said. “I’ll compose my packing list in my head.”

  Caroline nodded absently, already focused on the action. She had always wanted to learn to play polo, but even Eddie, who’d taught her how to shoot and spit when she’d been little, had drawn the line at this sport.

  Bremerton was driving the play to the opposing goal, as Jack tried to defend. The Englishman scored easily, and the spectators on his side applauded. Jack hit the ball back in play for his team. The game moved more toward the center of the field, where Caroline could see the players’ faces and catch an occasional word.

  Bremerton said something short and apparently unfriendly to Jack as he leaned in and drove Jack and his pony off the line he’d been taking toward the ball. Jack recovered and positioned himself to take a pass from Charles Vandermeulen. Then Jack quickly took the ball to the other end of the field. Once again Caroline’s view was of behinds and backs. But when it was Jack’s back—and behind, for that matter—her vantage point had its compensations.

  As play continued, the field went from soggy to sodden, with mud flying from beneath the horses’ hooves. The ball was no longer white, and the same was becoming true of the players’ jodhpurs. When the action returned to the middle of the field, and close against her sideline, Caroline leaned out of the carriage as far as she could, trying to make the experience more immediate.

  “No closer!” Mama ordered. “You’ll get dirty!”

  Caroline looked away. “I’m too far off for that.”

  When she turned back, both Eddie and his pony were on the ground in a tangle of legs and leather.

  Without realizing she’d moved, Caroline was on her feet. “Eddie!”

  “What happened?” Mama cried.

  “I don’t know!”

  The pony was up, but Eddie still lay there. The other players had moved away, so she could see her brother’s face. He was conscious, but his grimace spoke of pain.

  “Gamble, get me down!” Mama cried to their coachman.

  Caroline stayed her with one hand. A gentleman was already running across the field, black leather bag in hand. “Wait, Mama. Let the doctor get there.” She couldn’t imagine Eddie being very pleased to have Mama hovering over him.

  Jack had dismounted and was kneeling on the ground next to Eddie. Whatever Eddie’d said had Jack smiling. Caroline could nearly breathe again. If Jack could smile, Eddie would be fine.

  * * *

  HIS LORDSHIP was a lying bastard. Jack knew this to be true, but there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. Not only had the Englishman intentionally cut Eddie off, he’d done it while trying to bring Jack down.

  “Not much of a cowboy, are you?” Bremerton had taunted after scoring. Jack suspected then that Bremerton had been in the conservatory last night. And today His Lordship was looking for some on-field revenge. But what really capped it was that instead of checking on Eddie’s welfare or even expressing a word of regret, Bremerton was busy debating with the umpire exactly what penalty should be called for this “accidental” injury.

  Jack focused on Eddie. The club’s doctor was asking him the usual questions to be sure he hadn’t lost his senses. Eddie knew who he was, where he was, and he was also damn sure his leg was broken.

  “Don’t let them cut off my boot,” he said to Jack. “These are brand new … first wearing.”

  First Eddie had been making sure Gertrude, his favorite pony, hadn’t been harmed. That, Jack appreciated. The boots, however, could go.

  “You’re a millionaire. Buy another pair,” Jack said as he helped settle Eddie onto the stretcher that others had brought over.

  “Bring him to the edge of the field until the ambulance arrives,” the doctor directed.

  Jack looked up. They were right next to the Maxwell carriage. Caroline’s face was tight with worry, so he flashed her a reassuring smile.

  “It’s his leg, but he’s more worried about his boot,” he called to her.

  She nodded and looked more relaxed, but Agnes Maxwell continued to wring her hands. No one could ever claim she wasn’t a devoted mother.

  “Well, damn. I’ve thought of one bad thing,” Eddie said to Jack as they brought the stretcher back to the ground.

  “Besides the fact that your leg is probably broken?” Jack asked above the commotion as the carriage next to the Maxwells’ moved out to make room for the arrival of a horse and ambulance.

  Eddie sucked a pained breath between his teeth as the stretcher was jostled. “A broken leg gets me off the Conqueror.”

  “How’s that bad?” Jack asked.

  Eddie motioned Jack closer. Jack asked the doctor and others to step back for moment.

  “Bremerton did this on purpose,” Eddie said in a low voice. “He might not have meant to hurt me, but he meant to hurt you, and I’ve got no idea why. There’s something wrong with him.”

  Jack nodded. “I know.”

  “Here’s the problem. My mother’s not going to delay that trip to England unless I turn up dead from this, and I don’t plan to.”

  “Good news, there.”

  “I need your help, Jack,” Eddie said. “My father won’t be ready to sail when Mother wants to go, and I don’t want just Mother and Caroline up against Bremerton for even a week. My mother wouldn’t know Satan if he showed his horns and tail, and Caroline is too inclined to go it on her own. You need to travel to England for me.”

  Jack had already figured this out. He’d planned to be there with or without Eddie’s blessing. But now, at least, he wouldn’t have to explain to Eddie why he’d decided to go even when the beer tour was dead.

  “Of course I’ll go,” Jack said.

  Eddie’s tension eased. “Good. You need to be in London exactly when Caroline is. I’ll act pathetic about letting you down, and square it away with Mother for you to sail over on the Conqueror. But I’m not so sure I can push her sympathy far enough to get you into the Grosvenor Square house.”


  “That’s not a problem,” Jack said. “I happen to know a nice widowed lady with a home in London.”

  Eddie nearly smiled. “Of course you do. You know all the nice ladies. And right now, I want a nice doctor with a big bottle of laudanum and some gin to wash it down. Then I’ll let them cut off the damn boot.”

  Jack laughed. “Hang on. And Eddie?”

  “What?”

  “I’ll keep Caroline safe.”

  His friend nodded, then gave a pained but real smile. “Tell her not to forget her six-shooter.”

  Jack glanced up at Caroline, who was occupied by sending a furious stare in Bremerton’s direction.

  “She’ll be well armed, I’m sure.”

  * * *

  THREE HOURS later, Jack had been home and gotten O’Toole busy with the details of packing up Jack’s life and readying to board a ship. Then Jack had stopped to confirm that Eddie had been properly seen to. While his leg was a clean break and would heal well, the boot had been a total loss.

  Eddie had been right about his mother, too. The Conqueror would be sailing on Saturday morning, with or without Jack, and definitely without Bernard and Eddie. The only reason Agnes wasn’t leaving sooner was that the balance of the ladies’ wardrobes had to be brought from New York to Newport. And Agnes had her tail in a knot because the much larger and faster Lucania would beat them to England.

  All Jack had left to do was persuade Flora to allow him to use her London town house. He bounded up The Reefs’ steps, intent on getting these last details wrapped up and pleased to have some time to himself with Flora. He needed some of her female perspective when it came to Caroline.

  The Reefs’ butler greeted Jack and led him to the back terrace, where he found both Flora and Da in white wicker chairs, very close together. So close, in fact, that Jack was pretty sure that he’d seen Da pull his hand away from where it had been resting over Flora’s, on the arm of her chair. Jack started to say something teasing, but set aside the comment. He could hardly tell Da to mind his own business when he was minding Da’s.

  Flora rose. “So you’re back.”

  “I actually returned yesterday but had a ball to attend.”