Without speaking, he gave her the rose, then strode to the door and opened it just enough to peer out. He scanned the corridor then beckoned for Charlotte to come forward.
“You must go back to the ballroom before your absence is noted.”
She patted her hair, searching for loose strands. “Aren’t you coming?”
“We mustn’t be seen returning together.”
As she moved past him, Sebastian reached out and gently secured a stray lock of her hair. He pressed a kiss into her palm and gave her a gentle push toward the door.
Their encounter confirmed what he had been unwilling to admit. Charlotte didn’t taste, smell, or feel like any other woman he had ever known. She wasn’t like any other woman and never would be. And he would never be satisfied with another woman now that he’d touched her.
Like a pistol pressed to his temple, his title and sense of duty dictated who he would spend his life with, and it could not be Charlotte.
Chapter Nine
Charlotte tapped her foot as she waited for the Chadwick carriage to arrive. It would’ve been faster to walk to Sussex. If the house party were being hosted by anyone other than Sebastian, she’d have feigned a sudden illness and avoided the whole affair. She had been eagerly anticipating it until Elizabeth wrote to Sebastian to request an invitation for Horace to join the party at Marley Hall. Even Charlotte, who until a few months ago had lived a provincial life, was mortified at Elizabeth’s audacity. But more so, she was livid at the conniving attempt to facilitate Horace’s unwelcome courtship.
Knowing Richard would dislike riding in a crowded carriage, she circumvented Elizabeth and approached him for permission to make the journey with Anna and the Duke and Duchess of Chadwick. She didn’t wish for Elizabeth to discover her plan until it was fait accompli. But if they took much longer to arrive, her plan to save herself from being trapped in a carriage with Horace and Elizabeth for several hours would fail.
A few minutes later, the Chadwick carriage finally arrived, and Charlotte scrambled inside, holding her breath until her trunk had been stowed on the baggage vehicle and the carriage trundled away. It was a beautiful, sunny day, and Charlotte was finally free to enjoy the ride to Sussex. For a moment she considered telling Anna about her situation with Horace, but even in the Chadwick’s large carriage, the duke and duchess were well within earshot. And in truth, she was ashamed by her situation and didn’t wish her dismal circumstances to taint her friendship with Anna.
Anna bumped Charlotte with her elbow and flashed a glance toward her aunt and uncle. The duchess was engrossed in her book, and His Grace was either asleep, or very good at pretending to be. Anna wiggled toward her until their hips touched. “Do you know who else has been invited to the house party?” she said in a low voice.
Charlotte glanced at the duke and duchess before responding, but there was no change in their activity. “I’m afraid I haven’t any idea. I’m certain only of Lord Marley and Lord Ashdown.”
“Yes,” Anna said, “I’m just wondering. If the purpose of the party is for Lord Marley to court his intended bride, will he have invited more ladies than gentleman?”
Charlotte shook her head. “The invitation made mention of a ball. His grandmother is rather formidable, and I’m certain she will have insisted upon an equal number of ladies and gentlemen to facilitate the dancing.”
“Yes, I suppose that is true.” Anna tapped her fingers against her knee.
Charlotte’s heart fought against the constriction in her chest, pumping hard enough for her to feel the leap of her pulse in her ankle. Still, she had to know. “Are you hoping Lord Marley will choose you?”
Anna crumpled her nose, as if an unpleasant smell had invaded the carriage. “No, I rather thought you were interested in him.”
Charlotte swallowed. “But you are a much better match for him.”
She raised her brows. “Perhaps in the sense that our fortunes and titles are evenly matched. But in all other areas, we do not suit.”
Her stomach dropped. “Do you find him distasteful?”
She placed her hand over Charlotte’s. “Not at all. He is handsome and charming. But it’s difficult to think romantically of a man who appears to be enamored with my closest friend.”
Charlotte blinked back the tears threatening to fall. “But surely there can be no future between us.”
Anna put her arm around Charlotte’s shoulders. “I believe that is yet to be determined. The heart doesn’t follow the dictates of the mind, no matter how logical they may seem.”
Was it possible for her to have a future with Sebastian? It didn’t seem likely. Her interlude with him in the Paddons’ library popped into her head, and her heart jumped to a lively rhythm. She turned to the window to shield the heat invading her cheeks. Despite being sought after as a dance partner, Charlotte had yet to receive a single proposal. Except from Horace. Sebastian might be fond of her, but she was not what he was looking for in a wife.
“Charlotte, are you ill?” Anna pressed her palm to Charlotte’s cheek.
“It’s just a trifle warm in here.” She pulled her fan from her reticule.
The carriage slowed, and they moved simultaneously to peer out the window.
As they rounded a bend in the drive and emerged from a wooded area, Marley Hall stretched out before them. Charlotte gasped at the sight. The hall was built in the Palladian style, though two great flanking wings replaced the traditional colonnades. It was stately and regal, and she found its discordant symmetry both pleasing and welcoming. Sebastian walked down the front staircase to meet their carriage. Lord Ashdown accompanied him. Footmen unloaded trunks from the unoccupied carriages of earlier arrivals.
When the carriage drew up to the steps, the door was opened immediately. The duke and duchess were first to alight, followed by Anna, and then it was Charlotte’s turn to step down. Her hand trembled when Sebastian took it to assist her descent, but his bright smile quelled her fear. After what had transpired between them at the Paddon ball, he could well have thought ill of her.
As Sebastian exchanged pleasantries with the duke and duchess, Anna whispered, “I must confess, I sometimes have difficulty discerning whether Lord Marley is being serious when he speaks.”
“I think it’s safe for you to assume he is never being serious,” Charlotte said.
Sebastian took her arm to escort her into the house, his touch causing a flutter in her stomach. She ought to feel ashamed—desperate, even—for even imagining a future with him, but the alternative available to her certainly made the fantasy worth indulging.
The housekeeper stood in the great hall directing servants. The footman holding her trunk stood at attention, alone in the hall but for the dozen guests who’d arrived so far. The servants who’d traveled with them had led the other footmen upstairs to begin unpacking, leaving Charlotte’s designated footman to stand alone. Obviously alone. Charlotte felt her face warm. In addition to her traveling party, Lord Ashdown, Lord and Lady Bancroft, and Sir Eckley were gathered in the hall, as well as a few others with whom she was unfamiliar. The weight of their stares pressed upon her.
Sebastian noted the lone footman. He turned to Charlotte and raised a brow.
Charlotte dropped her gaze to the floorboards, wishing she was small enough to slip between them.
Sebastian waved his housekeeper over. In a low voice, he said, “Ms. Lightwood’s maid was unable to accompany her to Marley Hall. Would you be so kind as to assign one of the house maids to attend her during her visit?”
“Of course, my lord.”
A warm sensation started in Charlotte’s stomach and flowed through her. She raised her eyes and met Sebastian’s, exchanging a tentative smile with him. No one had been so caring of her needs since her parents died.
Lady Bancroft stood across the hall, smirking, and Lord Eckley shared a knowing look with another bachelor, but for the first time Charlotte thought their disdain might just be directed at her family rather than h
er.
After a brief exchange between the housekeeper and yet another servant, a maid appeared from another part of the house and led the footman upstairs. Charlotte followed behind them, more than ready to take advantage of the opportunity to compose herself in private. When she entered the bedchamber that had been assigned to her—beautifully furnished and inviting with a soothing palette of blue and green—she found the maid already unpacking her gowns. She folded one and placed it in the sizeable armoire.
The girl curtsied. “Miss Lightwood, I’ll be attending you while you’re here with us. My name is Maisy.” With her round face and cheerful smile, Maisy didn’t seem old enough to be a maid, but she moved with practiced efficiency.
“Thank you, Maisy.” She helped the maid unpack the remainder of her meager belongings. The bedchamber was larger than the entire first floor of Richard’s town house. Charlotte ran her fingers over the silk curtains framing a window and peered down into a sculpture garden. Her gaze settled on a statue of Aphrodite and she made a silent wish to have her allure and power—just long enough to get rid of Horace and make Sebastian fall in love with her. Surely that wasn’t too much to ask.
…
Since the men were invariably off to hunt, shoot, or fish in the mornings, Charlotte took the opportunity that first week to visit the village with Anna, work with the head gardener on the flower arrangements for the ball, and assist Lady Marley in finding a cure for Oscar’s persistent rash.
On the day the ball was to be held, she was up to her elbows in suds and wet dog when the outer door to Lady Marley’s chamber opened and Sebastian stepped in. He walked toward his grandmother without greeting Charlotte or even casting a glance her way. Then again, she was industriously scrubbing Oscar in Lady Marley’s copper tub while wearing an apron. One could not choose a more effective method of becoming invisible.
“Have you seen Miss Lightwood? Hudson said she was with you. She is late for the tour of the gardens. The Duke and Duchess of Chadwick, as well as Princess Tarasova and Lord Ashdown, are waiting…”
Sebastian’s voice trailed off as he took more than a passing glance at her and slowly approached. He placed a finger under her chin and gently lifted until his eyes met hers. Apparently satisfied as to her identity, he turned back to Lady Marley. “Gran, despite current appearances, Miss Lightwood is in fact our guest and not a servant.”
Lady Marley slapped her palm against the headboard. “She graciously offered to help soothe Oscar’s rash, and I don’t see anyone else around here volunteering to bathe him,” she said, her words sharp enough to wound.
Sebastian frowned. “You know perfectly well he’ll bite the maids if they dare attempt it.”
“He wouldn’t bite you.” She met his glare defiantly.
“I don’t think—”
“Do be quiet,” Charlotte said in exasperation. “Lady Marley was concerned about Oscar’s rash, so I offered to bathe him with a concoction we have had success with on our dogs.”
“Despite my previous statement, we do, in fact, have servants for that sort of thing.” Sebastian studied the ceiling and tapped a finger against his lips. “I’m certain we can talk someone into attempting it. Perhaps if we dressed them in the beekeepers’ garb, they might be more willing.”
Charlotte giggled and rose to her feet. “I wished to do it myself. Besides, I needed to make sure the mixture for the soap was correct before I give Cook the recipe.” Charlotte lifted Oscar out of the tub and dried him as best she could. As soon as she released him, he bounded across the floor and leapt onto Lady Marley’s bed. She took a length of toweling and settled Oscar upon it to protect the coverlet.
“Thank you, my dear. He seems more comfortable already.”
Charlotte touched Lady Marley’s arm. “You’re quite welcome, my lady. I will check on him before the ball this evening, and if he’s still restless, we’ll try a pansy compress.”
Sebastian studied her with an enigmatic expression. “Are you ready, then? I don’t wish to keep the others waiting.”
“Of course.” Charlotte removed the apron and shook out her skirts. She had planned to change before attending the garden tour, but she’d lost track of time. Wet spots dotted the front of her dress, but the muslin fabric would dry quickly enough.
Sebastian took her arm and led her into the empty corridor. Compared to the bustling activity in the rest of the house, the family wing was quiet. He paused to reach into his pocket and passed her a sealed note. “Maisy thought you might want this.”
Charlotte glanced at the missive and grimaced when she recognized the writing. A pox on Elizabeth for continuing to try to force her to accept Horace. Did either of them actually think there was anything they could do to convince her to accept him?
He raised his brows. “Do you wish to read it before we leave for our tour of the gardens?”
Charlotte’s fury at Horace’s intrusion into her otherwise splendid day agitated her, and she took off down the corridor. “I don’t wish to read it at all. Not even if it’s an apology. Knowing Horace, he’s probably writing to request an apology from me.” She crammed the letter into her reticule, determined to forget it existed.
Sebastian wore a pained expression as he hurried to catch up with her. “Charlotte, I don’t mean to pry into your personal affairs, but I must know to what you are referring, or I shall surely expire from unassuaged curiosity.”
“Well, I certainly don’t wish to be responsible for your demise.”
“Your sentiment is greatly appreciated,” he said dryly.
Despite her annoyance with Horace, Charlotte couldn’t help but smile at Sebastian. His amiable disposition was infectious. She found it easy to dismiss her worries about her future when she was in his company. “Horace is Elizabeth’s cousin.” She waited for some sign of recognition from Sebastian. “She wrote to you to obtain an invitation for him to join us here.”
Sebastian nodded, and she continued, “He’s been courting me all year, and Elizabeth has been pushing his suit, but Richard insisted I be allowed one season before having to accept him.” She paused when they reached another corridor and followed Sebastian when he continued to the left.
His eyes narrowed. “What offense did he commit requiring an apology?”
Charlotte paused and pretended to study a painting behind him of a former Lord Marley. “He was attempting to persuade me to accept his proposal, and he went too far.”
Sebastian stiffened. “Went too far how?”
“If you must know, he pinched me in a few places I would rather not name.”
Sebastian’s face turned an alarming shade of red. “When I see him, I’m going to teach him a lesson about making unwanted advances on a lady. Why didn’t you tell me? I would have refused to include him in the invitation if I had known.”
She kept her gaze trained on the painting. “I don’t think Elizabeth would have accepted your invitation if it had not included Horace. She is determined that I marry him.”
Thankfully, Lady Marley had invited Elizabeth to join her for tea this afternoon, and neither Richard nor Horace was interested in touring the gardens, so Charlotte was free of all of them for the afternoon. She would not have enjoyed mediating between Sebastian and Horace.
The haze of anger dissipated from Sebastian’s eyes. He raised his arm and placed his palm against the wall over her head, leaning close. “Regardless, he deserves a good beating for what he did. How can she want you to marry such a man?”
“He is her cousin,” Charlotte said, “and she wishes to be rid of me as quickly as possible and with as little expense as possible.”
Sebastian studied her face, his mouth lined with disapproval. “What would give him the idea he should seek an apology from you?”
Charlotte turned away from his intense scrutiny, instead focusing on a maid entering a bedchamber at the end of the corridor. “I may have given him a black eye during the altercation.”
“May have?” He raised a brow. “I
consider myself forewarned to be on my guard around you. But a lady does have a right to defend herself.”
She crossed her arms and held her elbow. “Of course, but Horace is a bit more primitive than most gentlemen. He doesn’t see things that way.”
“He is certainly not a gentleman.” Sebastian tilted closer, so close his nose nearly touched hers. The warmth radiating from his body made her tingle. Everywhere. “You aren’t considering his proposal, are you?”
“I may have no other choice,” she said softly, maintaining eye contact.
He blinked and took a step back. “I’m certain you will have other options, Charlotte.”
Momentarily bereft at his withdrawal, she shook her head. “Speaking of choices, I’ve been working on a list of potential brides for you, just in case you decide not to pursue Princess Tarasova.” His interest in Anna seemed to have waned recently, but she still owed him something in return for bringing her to the attention of the ton.
He held his hands out, palms up. “Were you planning to tell me who is on the list?”
“Of course.” They moved in unison down the corridor. “Princess Tarasova is by far your best option. Rumor has it she will inherit all of her father’s holdings in Russia, and the duke is expected to settle a substantial portion on her.”
He clasped his hands behind his back. “Who else is on your list?”
“Lady Grey,” Charlotte said less confidently. “She’s a bit timid at first, but she’s charming once you get to know her.”
“Hmm. She was quite terrified when we danced at the Paddon ball. She trembled throughout the set.”
“Your good looks and charismatic personality must have overwhelmed her.”
He shot her a heart-stopping smile.
“You should also consider Lady Hoskins. Though she appears quiet initially, you’ll discover she’s quite intelligent upon closer association. As the daughter of a duke, she exceeds your requirements.”
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