by Rose Pearson
“Good gracious, it cannot be you, Lord Ramsbury, surely?” she exclaimed, making the first gentleman’s expression turn from geniality to confusion. “Already wed? And I thought that you would have many more Seasons in London before you would take a wife!”
Charity watched with interest as the gentleman frowned, then studied Lady Hayward for a few moments longer, only for his eyes to widen and his face to split with a broad smile. Evidently, he had recalled her and now stepped forward, reaching for Lady Hayward’s hand so that he might bow over it.
“Lady Hayward!” he cried, sounding quite joyous. “My dear lady, how do you fare? It has been some years, has it not?”
Lady Hayward laughed.
“Indeed it has,” she replied, smiling warmly up at him. “Last I saw you, you were…” She trailed off and the smile faded away. “You attended my late husband’s funeral. I was very grateful to you for your presence, although I do not recall that I said so at the time.”
Lord Ramsbury’s smile softened but did not fade.
“Indeed you did,” he told her, as Charity allowed herself to study his face, taking in the kind expression that seemed to warm his blue eyes, the small smile that spoke of understanding and kindness. “And how do you do at present? Are you quite well?”
His eyes strayed to Charity for a moment, just as Lady Hayward turned towards her also.
“I am very well,” she answered, quickly. “Might I present my charge for these next few weeks? This is Lady Charity, daughter to the Duke of Landon. She has only just been presented at court and now intends to spend time here in London.” She smiled at Charity, who quickly dropped into as fine a curtsey as she could. “Lady Charity, this is the Earl of Ramsbury. My late husband and his late father were the very closest of friends, although I have not seen him since my husband passed away.”
“And it has been too long,” the Earl replied, with a generous bow. “I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Charity. You have just made your come out, then? Capital!” He smiled at her and Charity smiled back at him, struck by his sincere attitude. “Might I wish you every success this Season.”
“You are very kind, Lord Ramsbury,” she murmured, but he dismissed the compliment with a wave of his hand.
“I should also be glad to introduce my companion to you,” he said quickly, “else I fear I shall be very tardy indeed with my good manners.”
A sharp turn of his head and a small gesture had the second gentleman bowing rather hastily towards them both, although Charity noticed that there was no genuine smile of greeting up on the fellow’s face. Rather, he appeared quite stoic, as though such an introduction brought him no pleasure at all.
“Lady Charity, Lady Hayward, might I introduce the Marquess of Hosmer?”
A Marquess, Charity thought with interest, as she curtsied towards him. Although a rather irritated Marquess, it appears! She smiled to herself as she rose from her curtsey, taking in the gentleman’s dark brown eyes and thin mouth. He did not smile and his furrowed brows and square jaw gave him something of a morose appearance.
“Good afternoon to you both,” he said, his voice flat and without intonation.
Charity waited for him to say more, to ask her something of interest or to make some sort of remark to Lady Hayward, but the gentleman said nothing. Instead, he simply stood there, his conversation now evidently at an end.
Charity hid a smile, not feeling at all insulted or upset by his demeanor. After all, had she not heard him speak with evident irritation about being present in London? Why then would he now show any sort of delight at being introduced to new acquaintances?
“I – I should also be glad to introduce you to my wife, Lady Hayward, when there is opportunity,” Lord Ramsbury continued hastily, clearly eager to speak over Lord Hosmer’s otherwise notable silence. “She is in London also, but did not join us this afternoon, given the weather.” He glanced outside and then grimaced. “Perhaps she was wise to do so.”
“Mayhap she was, given that it now appears to be raining heavily,” Lady Hayward replied, with a chuckle. “But yes, I am sure that I speak for both myself and Lady Charity when I say that we would be very glad to meet your wife, Lord Ramsbury.” She laughed, her eyes twinkling. “I should take great joy in telling her all that I recall of you over the years.”
This made Lord Ramsbury laugh in return and, for a few minutes, he and Lady Hayward spoke of years gone by, of her memories of both himself and his late father. Whilst Charity listened, she could not help but study Lord Hosmer, finding him most intriguing, despite the fact that she knew he had no interest in furthering any sort of acquaintance with her. He was, she considered, a little taller than Lord Ramsbury although certainly not by a great deal.
There was a broadness to his stature that gave him an almost intimidating appearance, and coupled with his dark, brooding expression, certainly would not make anyone eager to greet him! Charity tilted her head just a little, quietly wondering what it was that made Lord Hosmer so very melancholy and why he showed such little interest in being in London, despite having come to town instead of remaining at his estate. Of course, she could not ask him outright why such a thing was so, given that she would never reveal what she had overheard, but still, the questions continued to flicker through her mind and make her wonder precisely what it was that gave him such a dark appearance.
“Wonderful!”
Lord Ramsbury’s loud exclamation caught her by surprise and she looked back at him, only to see him beaming at Lady Hayward.
“Then you are to expect an invitation very soon,” he finished, bowing low. “And I will not keep you any longer. I have my purchase ready and shall quickly take my leave. Good afternoon, Lady Charity, Lady Hayward. It has been quite wonderful to see you again.”
Charity bobbed a quick curtsey and murmured her farewell, noting to herself that Lord Hosmer did no such thing. Instead, he turned on his heel and made his way back towards the front of the shop without so much as a word, although Lady Hayward did not appear to notice.
“Well, that is fortuitous!” Lady Hayward exclaimed, as Charity glanced at her, dragging her attention away from Lord Hosmer. “Lord Ramsbury is to invite us both to dine, where you shall meet his wife! Indeed, I was also glad to hear that his mother resides with them both at present and I will be very glad to see her again.” A wistful look crossed her expression for a moment, her eyes focusing on something across the room rather than on Charity herself. And then, Lady Hayward caught herself and continued to speak to Charity in a most practical manner. “That will be an excellent connection to have, Lady Charity, for they will be able to aid you in your introduction to society.”
“That is very kind of him,” Charity replied, as Lady Hayward nodded but turned her attention to the gloves.
“He is a very kind gentleman, from what I recall,” she answered, picking up a silk pair and handing them to Charity to inspect. “I am sure his wife will be just as he is.” Smiling at Charity, Lady Hayward let out a very satisfied breath. “Just so long as he does not invite that companion of his… Lord Hosmer, was it?” Waiting until Charity nodded, Lady Hayward clicked her tongue with displeasure. “A very rude gentleman, I must admit. Most improper to simply murmur a greeting and say nothing more!”
Charity shrugged.
“I thought perhaps he was merely glad to allow Lord Ramsbury to have conversation with you, Lady Hayward,” she remarked, a little untruthfully. “Perhaps I was wrong.”
Lady Hayward glanced up at her, then chuckled.
“You do well to consider others in such a good light, Lady Charity,” she answered, “but in this case, I believe Lord Hosmer to be nothing other than a rather rude gentleman who shows very little interest in anything other than his own desires. But that matters not, given that I do not think we will see him very often here in London. It may be the little Season, but that does not mean you will lack for good company!”
Charity smiled and nodded, choosing to thrust al
l thought of Lord Hosmer from her mind. She did not need to know why he disliked London so, why he had remained so dull in his expression and his manner. Lady Hayward was quite correct to state that there was no requirement for such things.
“Now, shall we purchase these gloves and then return to the carriage?” Lady Hayward asked, sending a slightly concerned glance towards the window as she took in the rain that now made its way down the panes. “I think a warm fire and a tea tray will do us very well this afternoon!”
“I should like that very much indeed,” Charity replied, honestly. “Thank you, Lady Hayward. I have enjoyed this afternoon.”
“Good.” Her companion smiled at her, her eyes bright. “For there is a good deal more to come.”
Chapter Two
“You cannot wear such a dark expression all evening, Hosmer.” Benedict glowered at his friend but Lord Ramsbury took no notice. “We are to dine with company this evening and you will need to show a little more gladness at their company than the expression you currently wear,” he continued, with a roll of his eyes. “My dear, you must encourage him!”
This was directed to the slender young lady who sat quietly in a chair near to the crackling fire, although when Benedict glanced at her, he could not help but see the glimmer of mischief in her eyes. He grimaced and picked up his brandy glass. Lord and Lady Ramsbury were very contented together and that, he had to admit, irritated him immensely.
“I think we should do nothing of the sort,” came Lady Ramsbury’s reply, as Benedict looked towards her again in surprise. “To tell Lord Hosmer what he must or must not do will only have precisely the opposite effect to the one you desire.” Her eyes twinkled as she looked back at her husband, before finally looking towards Benedict himself. “Is that not so, Lord Hosmer?”
“I think that you have made me out very well indeed, Lady Ramsbury,” Benedict replied, swirling the brandy around in his glass. “Now if only your husband might agree with you!”
He shot a hard look towards Lord Ramsbury but his friend’s frown only deepened.
“Lady Hayward was very closely acquainted with my family,” Lord Ramsbury stated, as though he had not told Benedict such a thing already. “My mother, in particular, will be very glad to see her again… although she is yet to join us.”
A small frown flickered across his brow and Benedict could not help but smile. It seemed that Lord Ramsbury was a little anxious this evening, as though he wanted all to go well, but was uncertain that it would do so. Of course, Benedict knew that his current demeanor did not help the situation at all, but he did not want his friend to even consider the idea that he might be interested in courting Lady Charity. Indeed, he wanted to make it quite clear that he had no interest in any such thing and, in behaving in this particular manner, he was certain that he was doing so.
Part of him had been a little suspicious that the only reason such a dinner had been arranged was so that Lady Charity and he might spend a little more time in conversation and, of course, this had made him consider whether or not he would even attend – but the thought of sitting in his townhouse alone for yet another night, drinking his whisky and staring blankly into the fire, was not something that Benedict wished to do. Thus, he had agreed to attend, but had no intention whatsoever of making any particular conversation with Lady Charity.
“I am sure that your mother will be present very soon, Ramsbury,” Lady Ramsbury said, gently. “Come now, you worry too much, my dear.” She rose from her chair and went towards her husband, one hand reaching out to settle on his arm. “I know that you are concerned for your mother’s wellbeing, but I believe she is quite contented here in London. It was good of you to invite her.”
Smiling up at Lord Ramsbury, she waited until he let out a long breath, smiled and touched her cheek.
Benedict looked away. He had no desire to see any sort of fondness, nor even a modicum of affection between husband and wife. That brought too much pain into his own heart, too strong a reminder of all that had been lost to him. He had been the fool once, and would not permit himself to be so again.
“My Lord?”
Ramsbury turned quickly to see the butler standing framed in the doorway, his head lowering for a moment as he bowed.
“My Lord, your guests have just arrived,” he stated, as Ramsbury nodded eagerly. “I will have them shown in at once.”
“As quickly as you can,” came the response. “I am sure they will be very chilled indeed!”
Over the last two days, the steady rain had turned to hail and sleet, making it feel a good deal colder than before. Benedict, who was well able to afford to keep the entirety of his townhouse warm if he wished, had ordered fires only in the study and his bedchamber, having had no intention of going anywhere other than those two rooms, given that he could take his meals in the study. Lord Ramsbury, however, had been a little more generous and had made sure that the library, the drawing room and the dining room were all warmed by a great fire, although the hallways would still remain cold, of course. Benedict grimaced. Should anyone come to call upon him – as unlikely as it was – he would have to greet them in his study rather than take them to his drawing room. A small, wry smile pulled at one corner of his lips. It was just as well, then, that he had no intention of having anyone come to call upon him.
The door opened and Benedict rose expectantly, only for the Dowager to step inside. Her eyes roved across the room quickly, before she spread her hands and smiled apologetically.
“I simply could not be satisfied with the maid’s attention to my hair,” she said, by way of explanation for her tardiness. “But I am here now. Your guests have not arrived yet, Ramsbury?”
“They will be here in a moment, Mama,” came the reply, although Benedict did not miss the look of relief which ran across his friend’s expression. “I am sure that Lady Hayward will be very glad to see you again.”
The Dowager Countess of Ramsbury’s expression lifted.
“I shall be very happy to be in Lady Hayward’s company again also,” she said quietly, just as the door opened again and their guests stepped through.
The butler quickly announced them and the two ladies curtsied, just as everyone else in the room either bowed or curtsied also.
“Lady Hayward!”
Benedict watched with interest as the Dowager rushed forward, her hands outstretched as she reached to take Lady Hayward’s hands in her own. It was clear that she was a little older than Lady Hayward but, despite that, there seemed to be a genuine friendship between them. Benedict picked up his brandy glass again, knowing that he was not needed to do anything more than observe at present, given that both ladies would need to be introduced to Lady Ramsbury, and Lady Charity would need to greet the Dowager also. Idly, he studied the young lady, taking in her gentle form and finding himself a little intrigued by the burnished bronze curls that poured around her shoulders from where they had been pulled back to sit at the back of her head. She was not at all unpleasant to look at, for her figure was fine, her smile genuine and there was a warmth in her hazel eyes that Benedict was certain could not be falsified.
Although you believed such things before, without question, he reminded himself, a darkness beginning to seep through his soul. And look where such a belief, such a trust, took you.
“And you know Lord Hosmer, of course.”
The two ladies smiled at him and then were shown to their seats so that they might all sit together for a short while before the dinner bell sounded. Benedict cleared his throat, a little surprised when Lady Charity’s gaze fixed itself directly to his.
“And you are only just come back to London?” the Dowager asked, as Lady Hayward nodded. “But do you not have your own daughters to bring to London? I am sure that I recall you having at least one!”
Lady Hayward laughed.
“My daughter, Miss Sophia Clarke, will make her come out in a year’s time or so,” she said, as Lady Charity continued to hold Benedict’s gaze steadily, clearly n
ot in the least bit perturbed by the dark expression he had settled across his face. “At least, that is what I hope for. One can never be quite certain what will occur.”
A harsh laugh left Benedict’s mouth before he could prevent it. One after another, the other occupants in the room looked back at him in evident surprise, although there was nothing but a look of reproach on Lord Ramsbury’s face. He was clearly aware of precisely why Benedict had allowed such a sound to escape him, whilst the others in the room all looked a little stunned.
“Forgive me,” Benedict muttered, feeling a swirl of embarrassment settle itself in his heart, whilst heat began to climb up his neck. “It is only to say that I quite agree, Lady Hayward. One can never predict what will occur.”
Lady Hayward’s eyes flickered as she studied him, giving Benedict the uncomfortable impression that she was seeking to discover the truth behind such a remark but, as yet, could not find a way to do so. Benedict did not know what else to say, wondering if he ought to expand upon his explanation a little more, or remain silent, only for the dinner bell to sound. Relief poured into him as he rose from his chair, catching the slight smile on Lord Ramsbury’s face as he offered his arm to his wife.
“Shall we make our way to the dining room?” Lord Ramsbury asked, as they all fell into line. “I am sure that there is a feast awaiting us and I, for one, am certainly ready to enjoy it!”
His levity relieved the awkward tension which now surrounded the group, and allowed Benedict to breathe a little more easily. He had not meant to embarrass himself in such a way, and yet he had done so simply by his own foolishness. No doubt Lady Hayward and Lady Charity would think him a little odd, given that he had very little intention of making enthusiastic conversation with either of them. Not that he would be rude, of course, but certainly he would not be overly eager.
Walking into the dining room, Benedict stiffened just a little as he realized that he would be seated next to Lady Charity. His first instinct was that Lord Ramsbury had done so purposefully, only to realize that etiquette required it. Lady Charity smiled at him as she took her seat, forcing Benedict to return it with one of his own – which he managed to do without too much difficulty. Sitting rather stiffly, he waited until the first course commenced before allowing himself to relax just a little, praying that Lady Charity would not expect a great deal from him.