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to hear. You’ve been almighty quiet of late, down in the dumps almost. Can I hazard a guess you are glad to be home, my lady?”
    “More than you can guess,” Caroline answered fervently and leaned forward in her seat to see the view better. She ignored the formal “my lady,” even though it irked her. Primmy had been her good friend, at times it seemed her only friend since she was tiny. “It’s been so long since I have been here.”
    “A week, no more.”
    She giggled. “It seems longer. I will not be leaving again in a hurry, that I promise you. I will not again be put under such pressure as I have been these last few days. My life is mine to decide. My mistakes my own and mine to worry over, no one else’s.”
    “Your parents want what they think is best for you,” Primmy replied in an undertone. “Although,” she said so quietly Caroline had to strain to hear, “my heart goes out to you and endorses your sentiments, they do what they think is right.”
    “Exactly. What they think is right and best,” Caroline retorted. “Not what I think is best or what I want. Well, no more, Primmy, no more. This is my life, and acceptable or not, I will live it as I choose, not as others choose for me.” She sat back in her seat, relaxed and happy. It had been a fraught morning.
    First she had met with her parents. Her mother had remonstrated with her. It wasn’t suitable for her to live alone, now she had no need to under the terms of the will. She needed to reenter the social whirl of the ton once more. What about making plans for her wedding? Wedding clothes? A wedding dress and veil, a leaving outfit? All, she was told firmly, needed to be decided on without delay. Caroline had chosen not to admit she didn’t know if there was going to be a wedding. No need to upset the apple cart without good reason.
    When remonstrance had failed, her father forbade her to leave. Caroline ignored him. The angrier he got, the calmer she became. Whilst her mother retreated into tears, Caroline had faced her father. No one would tell from her calm face just how her stomach churned or her nerves jangled. It was imperative she did not show how nervous she was.
    “Papa, I love you, but you are trying to browbeat me. And I am three-and-twenty, have my own money and estate. I will not be bullied. I have no need to run to you, except perhaps when I am in need of parental and familial love. That will be the sole time, then, not for guidance. You and Mama either accept me as I am or not at all. The decision is yours. I am returning home this morning, with or without your blessing. It is your choice.” She looked at her father, her eyes wide as she beseeched him to try and understand how much she wanted to be her own woman. Beside him her mother wept softly.
    “Oh, Caroline,” she pleaded. “Think, think of what you are doing to yourself, to us all.”
    “Mama.” Caroline was now fast losing patience. “All my life I have had to put others first. Well, no more. Now this is my time to indulge in me, and I intend to do so. I would prefer your blessings, but if not?” She shrugged and struggled not to show any emotion.
    Her father’s face was red. “I cannot in truth give you my blessing for something I do not agree with,” he said, regret uppermost in his voice. “But I do not wish you ill.”
    “So be it.” Had she in all honesty expected any other response? She kissed him and her mother. “You know where I will be.”
    “And you us.” Her father’s voice was thick.
    As she thought over the events of the morning, Caroline’s heart was heavy. She had left her parents’ house without seeing her brother or sister to bid farewell. Her next stop had been to Grey’s Inn to see her solicitor. Mr. Nellings had requested she call on him before she left the capital. He knew his client too well to suggest he call on her.
    Inside her reticule was a fat epistle he had given her. “Your great-aunt requested I give you this once