“Yes, where to?” Blake echoed, enjoying the momentary look of panic on Caroline's face as she groped for a suitable country.
“Iceland,” she blurted out.
“Iceland?” said Penelope. “How odd. I've never known anyone to visit Iceland before.”
Caroline smiled tightly and explained, “She has always had a great fascination with islands.”
“Which would explain,” Blake said in a perfectly dry voice, “her recent jaunt to Switzerland.”
Caroline turned her back to him and said to Penelope, “We should see about sending someone to fetch your belongings, my lady.”
“Yes, yes,” Penelope murmured, “in a moment. But first, Blake, before I forget to answer your rather rude question, I will tell you that I anticipate staying approximately a week, perhaps a bit longer. Provided that suits you, of course.”
Blake glanced down at her with amused disbelief. “And when has my agreement ever determined your actions?”
“Never,” Penelope replied with a carefree shrug, “but I must be polite and pretend, mustn't I?”
Caroline watched as brother and sister sparred, a lump of wistful envy building in her throat. Blake was obviously irritated by his sister's unheralded arrival, but it was equally clear that he loved her beyond measure. Caroline had never known the affectionate camaraderie of siblings; indeed, she had never even seen it before that day.
Her heart ached with longing as she listened to their interaction. She wanted someone who would tease her; she wanted someone who would hold her hand when times grew scary and unsure.
Most of all, she wanted someone who would love her.
Caroline caught her breath as she realized how perilously close she was to tears. “I really need to be off,” she blurted out, making a beeline for the door. Escape was foremost in her mind. The last thing she wanted was to find herself sobbing in Seacrest Manor's front hall, right in front of Blake and Penelope.
“But you haven't had tea!” Penelope protested.
“I'm really not thirsty. I—I—I must go home. I'm expected there.”
“Yes, I'm sure you are,” Blake drawled.
Caroline paused on the front steps, wondering where on earth she was going to go. “I don't want anyone to worry over me.”
“No, I'm sure you wouldn't,” Blake murmured.
“Blake, darling,” Penelope said, “I insist that you see Miss Dent home.”
“A fine idea,” he agreed.
Caroline nodded gratefully. She didn't much feel like facing his questions just now, but the alternative was wandering the countryside with no place to go. “Yes, I would appreciate that.”
“Excellent. It's not far, you say?” His lips curved ever so slightly, and Caroline wished she could tell whether his smile was one of irony or supreme irritation.
“No,” she replied. “Not far at all.”
“Then I propose that we walk.”
“Yes, that would probably be most convenient.”
“I will wait here, then,” Penelope put in. “I'm sorry I cannot accompany you home, but I'm most weary from my travels. It has been lovely meeting you, Miss Dent. Oh! But I do not even know your given name.”
“You must call me Caroline.”
Blake shot her a sideways glance, looking a bit surprised and intrigued that she had not used an alias.
“If you are Caroline,” Penelope replied, “then I am Penelope.” She grasped her hands and squeezed affectionately. “I have a feeling we are going to be splendid friends.”
Caroline wasn't certain, but she thought she heard Blake mutter, “God help me,” under his breath. And then they both smiled at Penelope and exited the house.