Caroline rolled her eyes and sighed with exasperation. "I know them by heart, Bradford. I'm not to leave your side during the ball, not to run off anywhere with Charity, and if anything happens and you must leave my side, then I am to be glued to Milford until you return."

Bradford nodded, his expression serious. Caroline smoothed his brow with her hand. "Please don't worry, Bradford. The men you hired haven't come up with a single clue. Besides, I told you that it was probably some vindictive female who wanted you for herself and thought to scare me off."

Now it was Bradford who showed his exasperation. "So this alleged lady pushed you down a flight of steps, sawed through the wheel of my carriage, and then wrote you that letter? This is your suggestion?"

"Not a lady, Bradford, a woman. There is a distinct difference. And it makes sense to me. She could have hired someone to tamper with the carriage wheel."

Bradford kept his thoughts to himself. His wife was such an innocent, and he didn't wish to alarm her over the information he had gathered. It was his duty to protect her from harm and he didn't want her to be frightened, only cautious. Until the trap was closed, the proof complete, she wasn't going to be out of his sight. She belonged to him now, and anyone who dared touch her wouldn't live to tell about it.

Bradford was quiet while he dressed. Caroline kept getting in his way, and when he paused in his duties to tell her that her bedroom was right next to his, and that she could dress with ease in there, his wife openly scoffed and told him in no uncertain terms that separate bedrooms were not to her liking.

"I will not allow Henderson in here to assist me with you running around without your clothes on," Bradford growled.

Caroline stood in front of the oval mirror, brushing her hair, unimpressed with his comment. "Well?"

"You're no longer a boy, Bradford. You can dress yourself now. I have been doing so for years."

"Your maid grumbles over it."

"Mary Margaret has enough to do without chasing me around."

Bradford gave up the argument and went downstairs to wait. He paced the confines of the receiving room, a cognac in hand, and brooded over the evening ahead. He had almost declined the invitation to Clavenhurst, the Marquis of Aimsmond's grand home, because of all the difficulties of keeping Caroline safe in such a large crowd. He couldn't decline, of course, for the marquis was Caroline's uncle and would be hurt if she didn't attend.

The ball had a dual purpose. Charity and Paul were to be married in two days and the affair was a prenuptial celebration. It was also given in honor of the Duke and Duchess of Bradford, the first affair that he and Caroline would join as husband and wife.

Caroline appeared in the doorway, dressed in a shimmering gown of ice-blue silk, and found her husband leaning against the mantel of the fireplace. His ferocious frown slowly eased, replaced by an arrogant look that puzzled Caroline.

She made a dramatic curtsy, a sparkle in her violet eyes that mimicked the color of her gown, and then smiled when Bradford lifted his cognac in a salute.

"You were frowning just a moment ago and now you look very pleased with yourself," Caroline remarked. And most handsome, she thought to herself. He was wearing formal black and when he stood away from the fireplace, he looked terribly big and powerful again. Caroline wondered when his appearance would cease to cause the quickening of her pulse. Just looking at him made her muscles tighten with a yearning to have him take her into his arms.

Caroline had never been much good at hiding her thoughts, and Bradford knew exactly what she was thinking. "If you continue to look at me like that, we won't be going anywhere," Bradford remarked. He placed his goblet on the mantel and slowly walked over to stand before his wife. His blood had started to feel uncomfortably warm, his clothes were becoming too confining, and it was all because his beautiful wife had given him that special look. He couldn't resist taking her into his arms and kissing her soundly.

With a sigh of reluctance, he helped her with her winter cape and called for the carriage. They would be late as it was, and the sooner the evening was done, the sooner he could hold her against him again.

The Earl of Braxton was hovering just inside the entrance of the marquis's home and embraced Caroline before she could even get her cape off. "I've missed you, Daughter," her father announced. He pulled her aside and whispered in a voice loud enough for Bradford to hear, "Are you happy, Caroline? Is he taking good care of you?"

Caroline smiled. "I am very happy, Father." She didn't continue with her admissions, knowing full well that Bradford was listening to her. If she told her father how truly happy she was, how content, her husband would be impossible to live with. Humility wasn't one of his strengths, and his ego would grow to new heights.

Charity and Paul then claimed her attention, and then Uncle Franklin, with his wife beside him, entered the conversation.

The Duke and Duchess of Bradford made a grand entrance into the ballroom and immediately made their way over to their host. Uncle Milo was sitting near the entrance, and Caroline could see that he was already fatigued. He started to stand but Caroline shook her head and immediately sat down next to him.

Bradford left Caroline with her uncle, after giving her a hard look that she interpreted to mean that she wasn't to wander off. The marquis admitted that he was tired, but only from the excitement. He winked at Caroline and whispered that he hadn't done anything to ready the party. Franklin and Loretta had seen to everything.

Caroline held his hand and listened to him explain his activities of the past weeks. She was content to sit by his side for the rest of the evening if it gave him pleasure to have her there, and declined several invitations to dance.

When Uncle Milo asked her in his blunt manner just when he could expect an addition to the family, Caroline laughed. "We have not discussed it," she admitted to him. "When it happens," she added. "I don't even know how many children Bradford wants."

"I would like to live long enough to hold your first child," the marquis told her.

"I would like you to live forever," Caroline whispered in return. Her remark pleased her uncle and he squeezed her hand with great affection.

Bradford stood with Milford across the room and couldn't keep his gaze off Caroline. Milford tried to lead his friend into several topics of conversation and finally, when he could get little response, let his exasperation show. "The king is divorcing his wife and moving to France next week," he commented.

Bradford nodded agreement and continued to stare at his wife. "She's not going to vanish, Brad. For God's sake, man, get hold of yourself." Milford started chuckling and whacked Bradford on the back, jarring him out of his preoccupation.

"She isn't wearing any jewels."

Milford showed his confusion over the remark, turned to look at Caroline and then back to his friend. "She's wearing your ring," he remarked.

"She would never take it off." The arrogant comment made Milford smile.

"Bradford, why are we discussing jewelry?" he asked.

Bradford shrugged and finally gave Milford his full attention. "Have you learned anything else regarding my problem?" he asked. He was referring to the investigation concerning Caroline's enemy, but there were too many people close enough to overhear.

"Our problem and yes, I did find out something I think significant."

Bradford gave a curt nod. "We will discuss it later, after dinner."

Across the room, Caroline assisted her uncle to his feet and handed him his cane. She had spent over an hour with him and he was now content. He kissed her good-bye, after she had promised three times to visit him the following afternoon, and then made his way to the foyer. Caroline walked beside him, nodding acknowledgments to those who called out to her.