Lady Caro by Marlene Suson

fever that struck me last spring has weakened my heart. When I die, Caro, unless she is married, will become a ward of her cousin Tilford. She will be at the mercy of him and his evil mama, who will force her to marry him.”
    “Good God!” Ashley exclaimed, horrified at the prospect of Caro being shackled to that drunken dolt. “Why would your sister-in-law want such a union? It is clear that she does not even like your daughter.”
    Levisham’s lip curled contemptuously. “Olive has two driving passions: ambition and greed. It is true that she detests my daughter, but she lusts for the great fortune that Caro inherited from her mother. Furthermore, Tilford cuts such a sorry figure that he is not likely to win the competition for any other great heiress.”
    “His mother would not rest until she has squeezed every bit of spirit and liveliness out of Caro,” Ashley said in disgust. “It cannot be permitted to happen.”
    Levisham gave him an approving smile from across the broad desk. “You have a quick understanding, like your father. The only way that I can ensure Caro escapes that fate is to see, before I die, that she is married to a man who will care for her properly, a somewhat older man who has the patience and experience to guide her with kindness and affection into adulthood.” Levisham fixed Ashley with a penetrating eye. “I believe you are that man.”
    Ashley shifted on the uncomfortable straight-backed chair. “Why me?”
    “I always had great admiration for your father, who was as honorable a man as I have ever met. I have made inquiries of you. Your character is as highly regarded as his. In addition, you have an amiable disposition and you like Caro, even though you are put off by her age. You are the only man I know that I am willing to trust my daughter to.”
    “How flattering, but why the devil should I wed a hoydenish child?”
    Levisham plucked a quill pen from the inkstand and absently smoothed its feather. “Because you must marry, and Caro was on your father’s list of acceptable young ladies.”
    Ashley was horrified. Had everyone at Bellhaven overheard his conversation with Mercer Corte? How could he tell Levisham that the earl of Bourn, whom he so greatly admired, would never countenance Caro as his heir’s wife?
    “I hardly need remind you,” Levisham continued, “that Caro’s breeding is excellent and her fortune very large. Her husband will control it once she is married, for I dare not turn it over to her to squander.”
    “Caro does not strike me as a spendthrift,” Ashley objected.
    “She would not squander it on jewels, expensive gowns, and other extravagances like most young women, but on the needy—and the unscrupulous. In her kindhearted innocence, she has frequently been an easy mark for those with a sad, untrue tale.” Levisham’s left hand continued alternately to ruffle and smooth the feather of the pen that he held in his right. “She is constitutionally incapable of resisting anyone who sheds a tear in her presence and must be protected from her own generosity.”
    “I might waste her wealth,” Ashley warned.
    Levisham gave him a shrewd smile. “You might, but you won’t. In fact, you would manage it prudently and for her benefit, would you not.”
    “Yes, of course I would,” Ashley said impatiently. “But it is not a responsibility I seek. Nor do I want to wed a child, and most particularly one who does not wish to marry me or any other man.”
    Levisham sighed. “I fear that my own selfishness is much to blame for that. She is so much like her dear mama that I could not bear the thought of losing her to a husband. I encouraged her distaste for marriage, which was not difficult. This neighborhood offers several unfortunate examples of the misery that can befall a wife. Caro, who cannot bear to see another suffer, took their experiences much to heart.” The marquess dipped the point of his pen into the inkpot and began doodling absently on a