Charlotte blushed. “He was just being polite …”
Diana shook her head vigorously. “No, Lottie. It is more than that. I think that he genuinely admires you and wants to keep up your acquaintance.” She took another deep breath. “I think that you should. I think that he is good for you, my dearest sister. He is an admirable man.”
Charlotte frowned. “He is an admirable man. There is no doubt of that. But you know as well as I why I cannot encourage him.”
Diana squeezed her hand tightly. “Perhaps if you just tell him, Lottie. When you are feeling better of course.”
Charlotte’s eyes widened. “Tell him of my malady, do you mean? Have you taken leave of your senses entirely, sister of mine?”
Diana stared at her. “I think that you should. I think you can trust him with the knowledge, and he will not judge you for it.”
Charlotte snorted. “He is the son of a duke, Di. Anyone he marries will become a duchess one day. He needs a strong, well woman by his side as his wife to take on that role. Not a sick one, who will only get sicker as the years progress.”
Diana shook her head. “You do not know that, Lottie. Just because that silly quack said so, does not make it true.” She took a deep breath. “You have had a setback, because of Aunt Eliza’s sudden passing. But you shall improve again, I am sure of it. You were so determined to live your life and let nothing stand in your way …”
Charlotte shook her head vigorously. “Yes, I was. I still want to, despite what you may think. But I have thought long and hard about the acquaintanceship with Lord Sebastian, and I have decided that it should not be encouraged. Think about it, Di. If the relationship did end in marriage, he would end up having to play nurse to me.”
“You don’t know that …”
“I do!” Charlotte’s voice was sharp. “It has been more than four years since the accident, and still I suffer from the symptoms. You and George have been playing nursemaid to me this time. I could not bear it having his lordship do the same.”
Diana sighed deeply. “You care for him. I know you do.”
Charlotte pulled her hand away. “I do care for him. I won’t deny it. Which is why I am determined that I shall never be a burden to him in this way. I have no right to get involved romantically with anyone considering my malady.”
Diana was silent, staring at her with wide eyes. Charlotte blinked back tears. It hurt to say it, but it was the truth. She didn’t have the right. Aunt Eliza’s doomed romance with the vicar proved it to her. Her aunt had been strong enough to put her love aside and know that it was for the best. So must she.
“It was a mistake,” she said softly. “I was always wary of it, as well you know. I said that I shouldn’t encourage him. Now it has been proven that I am right. Whatever my philosophy on living my life to the fullest, it cannot include him. It mustn’t.”
Diana sighed again. “I will not speak to you of it again, dearest. It is your life, and you have the right to live it the way that you desire.”
The door opened and the countess swept in, staring at them.
“There you both are,” she said, a little huffily. “We must depart. The last of those irksome villagers has departed, and your father is desirous of getting back to London before sunset. Make haste.” She swept out of the room, her long black mourning gown trailing behind her.
Diana helped Charlotte to her feet, and they moved slowly towards the door. Before they left, Charlotte stared back. Goodbye, dearest Aunt Eliza, she thought sadly.
She knew she would never come here again. Soon the house and its contents would be packed up and sold.
Chapter 13
Sebastian stared into the looking-glass. His valet was adjusting his outfit, tightening the silk cravat and dusting down his black dinner jacket. He was almost ready for the guests already milling around downstairs. His mother had invited an ‘intimate’ number of ten. He had not consulted the guest list, but he would bet that Lady Hastings and Miss Alicia Drake were there.
There was a knock at the door and Percy entered, already dressed for the event. Sebastian studied his brother’s reflection. Percy was making more of an effort lately, shopping on Bond Street for fashionable breeches and jackets, cravats and hats, and he cut a dashing figure. It wasn’t hard to figure out why – a certain young lady, who was probably in the drawing room below them now.
The valet pulled at his jacket tails, adjusting them. “Thank you, Parker,” said Sebastian, turning to the man. “An exemplary job, as always. You can leave us now.”
The man nodded, then walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. Sebastian turned, staring at his brother.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he said crisply.
Percy gulped. “I just wanted your opinion, old boy.” He indicated his jacket. “What do you think of this one? Or should I wear the silver?”
Sebastian grinned. “Keep your jacket on, Percy. It looks fine. I am sure that Alicia will think you the handsomest man that ever walked.”
Percy sniffed. “That’s a lie. But she has been more receptive to me lately. We chatted for over half an hour at that garden party, and she let me dance with her two times at the Hay’s dance on Piccadilly.” He smiled hopefully. “Do you think she is starting to like me, just a little?”
Sebastian rolled his eyes. “What’s not to like? You are the son of a duke as well, which she seems to have forgotten. Her own father is a baron, only barely a member of the peerage. Miss Drake shouldn’t get too uppity, you know.”
Percy looked downcast. “All of that stuff doesn’t matter. I think that Miss Drake and I are actually very well suited, Seb. When we were talking we laughed about the same things and had a jolly old time together.” He paused. “If only she could stop focusing on you, just because you are the heir.”
Sebastian grinned. “Oh, so you are not just enamoured of her beauty, then? You do like her as a person?”
“Yes,” said Percy, through gritted teeth. “I think that she is the loveliest woman who ever walked the earth, but I like her character as well. She is always smiling and cheerful.”
“Good,” said Sebastian distractedly, tightening his cufflinks. “For I am afraid I am immune to her charms.”
Percy stared at him. “Have you seen the Lady Charlotte around town since we last spoke of her?”
Sebastian stiffened slightly. Even hearing her name caused him consternation. It wasn’t getting any better, in the days since he had run into George and Diana at the assembly room. If anything, it was worse. The minute he woke up he thought of her, and his last thought before he fell asleep at night was of her too.
“No,” he frowned, staring at his brother. “I haven’t. I saw her brother and sister at Almack’s, but they made some excuses that she was enjoying quiet activities at home and that socialising was too much for her.”
“It might be true,” said Percy, staring at him. “This is her first London season in years, don’t forget. It can get a bit overwhelming if you aren’t used to it. During my first season all I wanted was to run back home with my tail between my legs.”
Sebastian shook his head. “There is more to it. I just know it.”
“Well why don’t you go and pay her a call?” said Percy, his eyes brightening. “You would get to see her, and then you could invite her somewhere else.”
Sebastian stared at his brother. “That is a wonderful idea. Why didn’t I think of it? If I call at her residence, then she is bound by etiquette to receive me.” His eyes shone. “You are a genius, brother of mine.”
Percy grinned, blushing. “I don’t know about a genius … but I must say, I am chuffed that you think I had a good idea. Usually it is the other way around, with me asking you for advice.” He stared at his brother. “You really admire her, don’t you?”
Sebastian nodded slowly. “I do, Percy. More and more with each passing day. I can barely explain it … the only thing I can liken it to is the onset of a fever.” He frowned, trying to explain. “It starts o
ff slowly, and then it creeps up on you, until you are almost delirious with it.”
Percy gaped at him. “That is almost exactly how I have felt about Miss Drake.”
Sebastian walked up to him. “Then we must make sure that you have ample opportunity to speak with her tonight, Percy. If Mother has placed me next to her at the dining table, I will seize a moment to change the place cards around when no one is looking. By the time we come in to be seated, it will be too late.” He grinned. “Mother will not dare to make a fuss in front of her precious guests, and I will wear her anger afterwards, on your behalf.”
Percy shook his head in admiration. “You are brilliant. If you decide to pass up the dukedom, I swear a life as a criminal mastermind awaits you.”
Sebastian laughed aloud. “I thought I was becoming a court jester if I passed up the dukedom?” He clapped his brother on the back. “Come on, brother. Let’s get this evening started.”
***
Sebastian stepped out of the carriage, staring back at the imposing gates of the manor before slowly turning to stare at the stone façade. Acton House on Piccadilly. It was located at the opposite end of the street from his family’s establishment. If he had wanted to he could have walked to it within fifteen minutes. But it would not do, of course, for a gentleman of his rank to walk to a grand house and tap on the gates for entry like a street urchin.
His eyes swept over the house. It was grand. Far grander than most of the townhouses the ton rented for the London season. The Earl of Montgomery obviously had vast wealth and wasn’t afraid to show it. Acton House was almost as impressive as his own family’s London residence, and that was saying something. Millington House was one of the grandest manor houses in London – almost on a par with a palace, as befitted a duke as grand as his father.
The large front door opened and the butler emerged. Sebastian waited for the man to walk down the steps to him, before he handed over his calling card.
“The Marquis of Wharton,” he said crisply, trying to smother his anxiety. “To see the Lady Charlotte Lumley.”
The butler bowed slightly. “Yes, my lord. Please follow me into the drawing room and I shall inform the lady of your presence.”
He followed the butler through the house, passing through a grand entrance with green marble floor and high stained-glass windows. An impressive circular staircase rose from the middle of it to the upper level. Sebastian stared at the gilt framed paintings on the walls as they walked down the hallway. Most were portraits, probably of family members from bygone eras judging by the old-fashioned clothes and wigs.
There was something different, however, tucked away towards the end of the hallway. A painting of an imposing horse, staring straight out of the frame, its dark eyes challenging. The artist had rendered the chestnut coat so well that he felt he could almost reach out a hand and stroke it. The horse was set against a backdrop of green fields and a perfect blue sky. In the far distance, on a hill, was an impressive manor house.
Sebastian leaned closer, staring at the painting. “Who is the artist?”
The butler cleared his throat. “That is the work of the Lady Charlotte, my lord.”
“By Jove,” said Sebastian, running his eye over it again. “She has a deft hand. I did not realise she had such talent.”
They continued on their way until they reached the drawing room. The butler led him to an upholstered armchair by the fire, and then left him alone.
Sebastian stood up, quickly pacing the floor. His hands were slick with sweat. Now that he was here, he half regretted his decision to impulsively call on her. He had done it first thing, before he could talk himself out of it, emboldened by the conversation with Percy the previous evening. But his courage was starting to wane every minute he was alone in this drawing room.
He stared around. It was impeccably furnished, as he had expected it would be, the quality apparent in every carefully selected piece. The walls were painted in a muted apple green, with silk lining. A decent sized chandelier dropped from the ceiling rose centrepiece, the detail picked out in gold paint. It was opulent but tasteful. The countess obviously had an eye for such things. He knew many families where wealth was no object when it came time to furnish a house but only managed to swamp a space, overloading it with expensive furniture and paraphernalia.
It was quality, but it was understated. A little like the Lady Charlotte herself.
He reached down and picked up a small ornament, a Dresden china figurine, turning it over in his hand. How would she react when she came through the door? Would she be pleased to see him, or would she think him forward to arrive impulsively on her doorstep? Perhaps he should have sent a letter instead, asking for a suitable time. Yes, he thought, placing the ornament back in its spot, that’s what he should have done. His heart started to beat faster. Had he made a major faux pas?
He stared at the door with hammering heart and sweaty hands, feeling an impulse to bolt and run back down the hallway. He shouldn’t have come here. She would think him too eager and desperate.
Just when he was seriously thinking of doing it, and hang the consequences, the door opened. Sebastian turned in anticipation, straightening his jacket.
His smile slowly faded. It wasn’t Charlotte. Instead, her brother George stood there, staring at him curiously.
“My lord,” he said, strolling into the room and bowing. “This is a surprise.”
“Lord Castlereagh.” He was sure that the disappointment was etched in his face. “I do apologise for barging into your house without an appointment.”
“Not at all, not at all,” said George. “It is a pleasure. Please, come and sit down. I have ordered tea and refreshments. They should be along shortly.”
They sat opposite each other, on the matching armchairs near the fireplace. At that moment a maid entered, bearing a silver tray. She placed it down, picking up two china teacups, and started pouring from the large silver teapot.
“Milk, my lord?” she asked, staring directly at Sebastian. “Or lemon?”
“Just some lemon,” he answered slowly. “Thank you.”
She brought the cups on saucers over, along with a plate of macaroons, placing them on the small table in front of them. Then she curtseyed and left the room.
Sebastian picked up his teacup, sipping the hot liquid. He saw that his hand was shaking ever so slightly.
“A fine house you have here,” he said, to break the silence. “Very impressive.”
“Thank you, my lord,” said George, sipping his own tea. “My parents are very proud of it. We keep it running throughout the year, even when we are not in residence. It retains its own staff for that purpose.”
Sebastian nodded. “It is the same with my own family’s manor.” He put down the teacup. “Castlereagh, as impressive as your house is, I didn’t come here to talk of architecture. I asked to see your sister, Lady Charlotte. Is she not at home?”
George reddened slightly. “I am not sure how to tell you this, my lord,” he said slowly. “And must I add, please do not shoot the messenger. My sister Charlotte is home, but I am afraid that she does not wish to see you. I tried to persuade her, but she was adamant on the matter.”
Sebastian flushed angrily. “She is here? Yet she will not speak with me?”
George nodded, his eyes fearful. “That is correct.”
Sebastian stood up, feeling a vein throbbing in his temple. “Then I must bid you good day, Castlereagh. I see that I was mistaken in coming here.”
George looked alarmed. “Please, my lord, finish your tea …”
But Sebastian bowed stiffly, striding to the door. He walked back down the hallway towards the entrance, letting himself out of the house. The carriage was waiting for him, just down the driveway. He climbed into it. “Home,” he cried to the driver. “No, wait. On second thoughts, take me to the gambling house on Bond Street.”
Lords to Be Enamored With: A Historical Regency Romance Collection Page 67