"I only have a little longer to find out the answers." Caroline stated.

"Caroline, do you remember any of that early time? My earliest memory was when I was six years old and I fell out of Brewster's loft."

"No, all my memories start with Boston," Caroline answered. She felt her stomach tighten up and wished to stop the conversation.

"Well, I don't understand why you don't hate the man. Don't look at me that way. I know it's wrong to hate, but your papa obviously didn't want you and now, after fourteen years, he has changed his mind. He hasn't considered your feelings at all."

"I have to believe that my father did what he thought was best," Caroline returned.

"Caimen was so furious over your leaving," Charity stated, referring to her oldest brother.

"I must remember that I owe your parents and your brothers a debt and must not get angry," Caroline stated. Her words sounded like a vow. "Anger and hate are destructive emotions and neither will change the facts."

Charity frowned and shook her head. "I don't understand your mild acceptance. You've always had a plan. Tell me what you will do. It isn't like you to meekly accept anything. You're a charger… not a sitter."

"A sitter?" Caroline chuckled over her cousin's choice of descriptions.

"You know what I mean. You don't sit around, you charge."

"Well, I had thought that I'd allow one full year with my father. I owe that to him. And I will try to like him too. Then I will, of course, return to Boston."

"What if your father won't allow it?" Charity started twisting her gloves again and Caroline hurried to soothe her.

"I have to believe that if I am truly discontent, he'll let me go back to Boston. Don't frown, Charity. It's my only hope. Please don't try to sway my faith."

"I can't help it. Heavens, he could marry you off before you're even settled in."

"That would be unkind and I can't believe he'd do such a thing."

"You just wait. I saw the way Mr. Bradford was looking at you. I do believe he'll try to pursue you. Yes, I do," she hurried on when Caroline opened her mouth to protest. "When you fall in love, someone strong, like Mr. Bradford, will win your heart, and then your attitude will change. You won't want to be so independent then. Of course, it wouldn't do for you to fall in love with an Englishman, since you've vowed to return to Boston."

Caroline absolutely refused to reply to her cousin's absurd remarks. She had no intention of falling in love with anyone. Lack of sleep was catching up with her and Charity's ridiculous comments were driving her to distraction.

The trip from Boston to London's port had seemed to take forever. Caroline had quickly acquired her sea legs, or so the captain of the vessel had complimented, but Charity and Benjamin hadn't been as fortunate. Caroline had spent a good deal of time taking care of upset stomachs and soothing irritated tempers. It had proved to be an exhausting task.

They had slept on board the vessel the night before and, in the morning, sent word to the Earl of Braxton of their arrival. A messenger returned, stating that the earl was currently in residence at his country estate, a three-hour ride from London. Caroline determined to settle into the townhouse and send a message to her father announcing her arrival, but Charity, impatient of nature, had insisted that they hire a carriage and proceed to his country home.

"We are here at last!" Charity cried when they reached the townhouse. Her voice was filled with excitement and she didn't look the least bit tired. That irritated Caroline almost as much as her cousin's nervous chatter.

Charity was leaning out the carriage window, squinting up at the house, and Caroline was forced to tug on her arm so that the door could be opened.

"I knew it would be a beautiful home," Charity exclaimed. "Your father is an earl, after all. Oh, Caroline, are you very nervous?"

"Of course not. My father isn't here," she commented as she examined the fashionable brick town-house in front of her. She had to admit that it did look terribly impressive. There were several long, rectangular windows facing front and each was trimmed in ivory paint, providing a nice contrast against the red brick. Ivory-colored drapes scalloped the sides of each window, giving the house a dignified and regal appearance.

The front door was three steps up from the walkway and was also painted ivory. There was an ornate black door knocker, with gold inlay, centered on the wood, but as Caroline reached up to touch it, the door opened.

The man Caroline assumed to be the butler was as impressive as the house he guarded. Dressed all in black and without even a white cravat to soften the effect, he maintained an expression that was totally devoid of emotion until Caroline identified herself as the daughter to the Earl of Braxton. His expression changed then and he smiled up at her, for he was barely an inch taller than little Charity, and though Caroline thought it was a puny half-smile at the most, it seemed sincere.

He welcomed the three of them inside, introduced himself as Deighton, and explained with an important air that he was the earl's man. He told them that he had only just arrived ahead of the earl to oversee the servants as they reopened the house for the coming season. The earl would be arriving by nightfall. They would have missed the earl had they continued on to his country estate, Caroline realized.

The house bustled with activity. Caroline felt in the way as servants hurried from one room to another with dustcloths and pails of water in their hands.

She soon appreciated Deighton's no-nonsense attitude. He proved to be extremely efficient and had two maids seeing to the unpacking within minutes. The house boasted a large study and five bedrooms above the stairs, and Caroline and Charity were given adjoining rooms.

After Caroline had strolled through the rooms on the second floor, she accompanied Benjamin up to the third level to see that his bedroom was satisfactory. She left him to his unpacking and returned to the second floor and helped Charity locate her second pair of spectacles.

Caroline left Charity overseeing the unpacking of her treasures. She felt restless and out of sorts and knew the cause. Her father would be arriving before nightfall and she was worried about his reaction to her. Would he be as affectionate in person as he was in his letters? Would he be pleased or disappointed in her appearance? Would he like her? And just as important, would she like him?

She paused at the door to the impressive library at the top of the steps and glanced inside. The room was polished and spotless. It wasn't a room that invited warmth. Was her father as stark as his library?

Caroline became more concerned over her father's disposition as she strolled through each of the rooms on the main floor. Everything was so correct! Correct and terribly cold! The salon was to the left of the tiled entry hall and was quite elegant. Done in golds and ivories, with touches of pale yellow, it looked lovely but uninviting. Caroline tried to picture her cousins making themselves at home in the room and found it a futile task. The richly upholstered furniture didn't look capable of holding large, awkward men attired in work clothes, and boots they never remembered to scrape the dirt from. No, Caimen, Justin, Luke, and George would feel as awkward as she did.

To the right of the entry hall was a large dining room, chairs were the focal point, but the fine crystal and gold-rimmed goblets, centered on the buffet against the far wall, also drew one's attention. There wasn't anything cozy about this room either; it radiated wealth and luxury.

Caroline followed the long hallway and found another library located just behind the receiving room. She was vastly relieved when she opened the door and saw the clutter. This room was obviously where her father really lived. She hesitated at the doorway, worrying that she was invading a sacred sanctuary, and then walked inside. The beautiful desk caught her attention, as did the two worn leather chairs and the volumes of books lining the shelves of two walls. Windows facing a secluded side garden covered the third wall, and when Caroline had taken her fill of the pretty picture the windows allowed, she turned to the remaining wall. Surprise held her perfectly still as she studied the rather bizarre arrangement now facing her. From top to bottom the wall was covered with drawings, all done by herself! They ranged from crude designs of animals she had done when she was very little, to more advanced pictures of houses and trees. In the center of the artwork was one drawing that Caroline remembered doing. She laughed when she took a closer look and shook her head. The picture was her first attempt at a family portrait. Everyone was there, her Boston parents, Charity, her cousins, and even her father, though she had drawn him standing some distance from the rest of the group.

The appearance of her subjects was quite laughable. Caroline had used huge circles as everyone's stomachs and had focused on teeth as the main attention getter. Little faces, all smiling, with gigantic teeth protruding! She must have been around six years old when she drew her family, and remembered that she had been quite proud of it.

The fact that her father had saved all of her drawings amazed and warmed Caroline. Charity's mother must have sent them to him without saying a word to her.

Caroline leaned against the edge of the desk and studied the arrangement of drawings for a long while. She noted that her early drawings included her father, but as she progressed in age and style, he was no longer in any of the pictures. Yet he had saved them all. That realization made him seem less the earl and more the father. This was how he had shared her childhood, she suddenly realized. The thought saddened her.