Always the Chaperone
Page 9
“Oh, damn, Charlotte. Forgive me.”
She looked up to see Richard’s face, complete embarrassment.
“I spoke in haste and without thought. Please forgive me.”
Charlotte smiled and reached out to squeeze his hand. “You worry over nothing, Axwick. I am not offended, nor do I believe I should be. You wish to celebrate the happiness you have found; it is only natural.”
The door suddenly opened, and two women walked in.
“Peppermint, I say again,” Danvers said as she led Tabitha into the room. “Just a little on your pillow, the herb or oil, and it will work wonders.”
“I shall have to tell my lady’s maid,” Tabitha said with a weak smile as she allowed herself to be deposited on a chaise longue. “You must think me very silly, Charlotte. I do apologize.”
“I’ve never known a couple to apologize so often! You are with child, Tabitha, and I do not believe anyone in that circumstance is required to apologize at all.”
“Thank goodness,” Tabitha said faintly.
Danvers exchanged a look with Charlotte. Her maid evidently knew what she was doing.
“Thank you, Danvers, that will be all,” Charlotte said quietly.
As the door shut behind the servant, Richard rolled his eyes. “It is fortunate we are with family and not guests!”
His wife laughed without opening her eyes. “It is good that you are too far away from me to reach you, or I would hit you!”
Charlotte’s gaze flickered between them, concern sweeping across her heart. Were they angry, ill-suited for one another?
It was only then that she saw their laughter and realized they had only been jesting. There was much to marriage she simply did not understand and never would. Unless, of course, William Lennox was in any way serious about anything he had said to her. He was so difficult to understand. She knew so little of him, and there was no way to discover more about him unless…
“There are many new people in Bath this Season, and I have been making the acquaintance of some of them.”
Richard leaned back in his chair. “Really? I did not think there was anyone else worth knowing with whom the family was not acquainted. Anyone of particular interest?”
Charlotte swallowed. Her brother was an intelligent man. How direct could she be without him guessing the reason for bringing up such a topic? She did not want to reveal how she felt about William.
“Do you mean Miss Darby, the lady you encountered at our wedding?” Tabitha asked.
“Miss Darby?” Richard snorted. “I would not consider her a suitable acquaintance for you, Charlotte. Are you not bored to tears by her?”
“I would not say Miss Darby has become an intimate acquaintance,” Charlotte said slowly. “I accompanied her to the opera and on a separate occasion, a carriage ride with some gentlemen. It is actually the two gentlemen that I have become more acquainted with. One…one in particular.”
Tabitha sat up hastily, the blanket falling to the carpet. “Are you telling me you are being courted?”
“Of course not,” Richard said easily. When Charlotte did not respond, he leaned forward and repeated, “Of course not, that is not what you are saying at all. Is it, Lotty?”
Was it possible to keep calm in such an unexpected situation? “I said nothing of the sort.”
“But that is what is happening, is it not?” Tabitha asked eagerly.
She paused before responding. In truth, she was not entirely sure what she was to William. Her own emotions, at least, were more clear. She felt more strongly about him than anyone else and would not have permitted him to kiss her in the alleyway if she had not.
Perhaps it would not be prudent to reveal that particular detail to her overprotective brother.
“I enjoy both of the Lennox brothers’ company. Have either of you been introduced to William or John Lennox?”
Apparently appeased by her calmness, her brother leaned back in his seat. “I once met the previous Duke of Mercia, a very elderly gentleman who rarely ventured into society. Arnold wished to make his acquaintance, so we both went, but it was a short and uninteresting visit. I saw no evidence of a wife, I must say, and was not aware he had a son.”
Charlotte made a personal note to find out more about this surprising inheritance line. Without really being aware that she was speaking aloud, she muttered, “Then I wonder how William–I mean, the current duke, received the title. Uncle? Cousin?”
It appeared that Tabitha was finally losing interest in the conversation. “As so many of them do, I suppose. Through a junior branch of the line.”
“Have you met William or John, Tabitha?” Charlotte asked.
Her sister-in-law frowned in concentration. “I remember there was some sort of scandal a few years ago—so I must have.”
Charlotte stiffened. It had not been her intention to stir up gossip about Honora, the sister who had so tragically disappeared from the lives of her brothers. William had been so clearly distraught at even the thought of her somewhere out there in the world.
“Scandal?” Richard said. “I do not like the sound of that. I am not entirely convinced you should be mixing with scandalous dukes, Charlotte.”
She sighed wryly. “I know the tale, Richard, and it is a sad one, not a scandalous one. I do not believe I would wish it on any family.”
“I cannot remember the exact details,” mused Tabitha, “but I can tell you that Major Lennox was an absolute rake.”
Charlotte’s heart turned cold in an instant. “A-a rake?”
Her sister-in-law nodded. “Oh, yes, a notorious womanizer. He had a favorite in every town and village in France when his regiment was over there, and tales quickly found their way back to England whenever they wintered here. Goodness, the stories my mother attempted to tell me, you would think they were a plot by Byron rather than reality!”
It was not possible, and yet Tabitha had no reason to lie. Charlotte attempted to keep her breathing slow and steady. She had asked the question because she wanted to know what kind of a man William was. She had to be brave enough to face the answer.
“And many of them wept when he left the country for good,” Tabitha was saying, oblivious to how her words were upsetting Charlotte. “He was their protector, of course, and by all accounts, a fine lover.”
“Tabitha!” Richard looked absolutely appalled.
“I am only repeating the gossip!” she said defensively, opening her eyes to look at her husband. “And Charlotte did ask, after all.”
“Yes, well, that is of no importance,” he said hastily, glancing at Charlotte. “We all have family members that we disapprove of and would not agree with, just look at Arnold, our brother. Damned fool if ever there was one. I am sure this duke that Charlotte has met does not mix with this Major Lennox.”
Charlotte swallowed. There was nothing for it. She would have to speak, and though it would shock her brother, it certainly hurt her far more.
“Actually, Richard,” she said quietly, “Major Lennox came to the title of Duke of Mercia a few years ago. They are one and the same man.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Ah,” was all her brother managed.
Charlotte had no idea where to look. She could not meet her brother’s eye, nor his wife’s, and yet there was nowhere else in the room she could gaze. Pain radiated from her heart, and the discomfort was so thick in the air, she could have cut it with a knife.
William the womanizer. William the rake. William, the favorite of women from France.
William, who had courted countless ladies before her, who knew exactly what a lady wanted to hear, knew how to tease her, and convince her to…to what?
How could she trust a man with such a reputation? How could she be sure that he meant anything that he ever said to her?
“You know, I feel ready to eat something now,” Tabitha announced, sitting up.
Her husband laughed. “I am not surprised, even when you are in the depths of illne
ss, you always find it within yourself to eat something!”
He rose and rang the bell by the fireplace, giving Charlotte a moment to collect herself. She would not betray her true feelings, not now. She needed to think on this alone, and it would be many hours before she was afforded that luxury.
“Luncheon, Matthews,” Richard said grandly as the butler entered the room. “On trays in here, if you would not mind, my wife is still feeling a little delicate.”
“At once, Your Grace,” Matthews bowed. As if he had been expecting the summons at any moment, a stream of footmen appeared behind him, bringing in lunch.
Charlotte raised an eyebrow at her butler, who gave a brief smile.
“Danvers came to see me before she returned to her linens, my lady, and advised that her grace would likely feel more comfortable eating lunch in the drawing room.”
Tabitha looked astonished, but Richard laughed. “I should have known! You have a good one there, Charlotte, I would not let her go in a hurry!”
Charlotte demurred as a silver tray covered in delicious food was placed beside her. Despite the effort her cook had evidently put in while the Duke and Duchess of Axwick were visiting, she could find no pleasure in eating.
While Tabitha and Richard managed to keep the conversation flowing with little pause, Charlotte saw her brother give her a concerned look at her, but he said nothing.
What was there to say? she thought bitterly. He had done nothing wrong. It was William who had lost her trust this afternoon.
Chapter Ten
“God’s teeth, man, don’t be stupid!”
John raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “I will say it again, Mercia, you seem tense this evening, ever since we left our rooms. Are you certain nothing is amiss?”
William growled rather than respond, his temper on edge but aware that in public, there was no more he could say.
His brother looked away to speak to the gentleman seated beside him, and William tried to breathe out slowly as the musicians at the recital started to tune their instruments.
This was madness. Snapping at his brother was not going to solve anything, and drawing attention to himself would make matters more complicated. If only he could return to the peaceful man he had always been.
John’s foot bumped into his own.
“Keep to your side!” William said.
The people seated around them grew silent as all eyes shifted over to them seated in the front row of the Assembly Rooms, pride of place thanks to Lady Romeril’s invitation.
John turned away from his brother and repositioned his feet in an exaggerated way. William’s cheeks heated.
“What,” murmured his brother in a low voice, “has got you in such a terrible temper, William?”
William sighed. It was not his brother’s doing, and he shamed himself by taking it out on him. “I apologize, John. I am bad-tempered tonight. There is no excuse.”
John gripped his shoulder, then turned to continue his conversation.
That was the thing about brothers—one did not always have to explain things.
Not that he was entirely sure that he could explain it. It didn’t make sense, these letters from Charlotte.
Unable to prevent himself, William reached into his pocket and pulled out the pages Charlotte had sent him in response to invitations to dine, for walks, to a card party, and to this musical recital. He had only started sending more formal invitations when her name had not appeared in the Pump Rooms book for a week, and there had been no response from knocking on her door, other than Matthews’s stern frown.
Your Grace,
I must send you my sincere apologies that I am unable to attend the Coulsons’ card party with you tomorrow evening. I am sure you will have an enjoyable evening.
Lady Charlotte St. Maur
William’s jaw clenched. What did it mean? Why was she avoiding him so concertedly? And here was another one.
Your Grace,
I have no interest in a walk at the present time. Please share your invitation with another lady who is.
Lady Charlotte St. Maur
No interest? He could not fault her letters for politeness, but they were so distant. The sort of letters one would send to an elderly aunt whom you did not wish to visit. After all they had discussed, shared with each other, why did she suddenly have no desire to see him?
He sighed heavily as he read the letter he had received most recently.
Your Grace,
I regret to inform you that I am no longer available for engagements of any kind. Please cease contacting me on this matter, for my interest in such things will not change.
Lady Charlotte St. Maur
Cease contacting her as though he could wipe her from his mind? What had happened?
William’s gaze wandered lazily around the room. He watched the musicians without much interest—even studied some of the people, but all he could think about was Charlotte.
He loved her. There was no denying it, no reason to, except he had never had to work so hard for a woman’s affection. There were instances when he was sure she felt the same.
But not enough.
The violinist nudged the viola player beside him, and they both frowned at William. He shifted uncomfortably in the wooden seat and allowed his gaze to drift to the candles on the wall.
Why not? What was holding her back?
It was in these moments that he wished, more than anything, that Honora was still with them. John was intelligent, but Honora had a softness of heart and an understanding soul. She could have explained to him why Charlotte had placed herself at odds with him. Perhaps she could have even spoken with Charlotte, helped her to understand that he was in earnest.
William sighed. Wherever Honora was, he wanted her back. Thinking on it would bring him naught but pain. Though he hoped to see her at every event he attended. And now there was Charlotte.
It was strange. When he had been a soldier, marriage had been absolutely out of the question. Who wanted a war-worn soldier for a husband? A few ladies had accepted him into their beds, but he had gained more of a reputation for wooing than for bedding.
Now that he had a title and had found the right woman, she was not interested.
Someone nudged him hard on the shoulder, and William turned around with a snarl to see John. “What?”
John pointed toward the entrance. Irritated beyond belief to have had his thoughts disturbed once more, William turned to see Charlotte enter the room. Not alone, though. As his mind whirled, he saw two people with her—a young lady with too much rouge on her cheeks to be respectable, and a gangly gentleman who looked as though he didn’t know how to walk properly.
William sighed. Once again, Charlotte was acting as a chaperone. It would explain the drab blue gown several years out of fashion, the lack of jewels, and the complete lack of care spent on her hair. Not forgetting the look of boredom on her face.
Despite all that, her beauty eclipsed the others around her, despite their finery.
How could no one else see her remarkable beauty? It drove him mad the world did not notice.
“Lady Charlotte!” he shouted without thinking.
The crowd gathered to hear Mozart stared, but William did not care. His spirits had risen as soon as she had shown up. Another chance to spend an evening with her.
“There are seats here,” he called out. “Lady Charlotte!”
There were frowns around the room and a few murmurs from mothers to daughters, but William paid them no heed. What care he that Mamas considered him a loose cannon? His brother John knew enough pretty young ladies for both of them, and the dukedom seemed far more important to most mothers than his ineptitude in public.
She turned and saw him, her gray eyes meeting his. She smiled, but there was no warmth. Then she looked away and sat with the couple on the other side of the aisle.
Just as William made up his mind to force Charlotte to speak with him, there was another nudge to his shoulder.
“My lord, I mean, Your Grace,” she spluttered, cheeks red. “Your brother was telling me how interested you are in…”
“How do you do.” William nodded distractedly despite the beauty of the girl before him.
“I was saying to Miss Seton the other day it would be such an honor to meet the new Duke of Mercia.”
“Yes,” he said. “Please do excuse me, Miss Howarth, John, but I need to go and speak to…”
“And here is Miss Seton, good evening!” John’s voice overrode his as another lady came toward them.
William groaned. This was intolerable, and now that Miss Seton had joined them, he could no longer see Charlotte. Craning his neck awkwardly around her and a gentleman with a hat far too tall, he caught a glimpse of her.
Charlotte’s mouth was set in a hard line. William knew that face. Someone had said something impertinent. What a shame she was so graceful. Someone with less breeding would be rude in turn, but not her. She was incapable of being inconsiderate even when provoked.
“I do like your gown,” one of the girls John had rounded up was saying to the other. “I think it so brave to wear something that old fashioned here in Bath.”
William was paying attention enough to see the spark of fury on Miss Seton’s face as she responded. “It is funny you should say that, Lady Romeril was just complimenting me on my return to classic style. But then, you are probably not aware, my dear Miss Howarth, all the salons in London are graced with this style.”
William gritted his teeth. He was not going to stand here and listen to women talk about gowns.
“You must excuse me,” he said. “I need to speak with…”
“Ah, here is Miss Ashbrooke!” John said.
William did not see how his brother managed it, so many women attracted to their corner of the room.
“Mercia, have you met…”
“Enough.” William laid a hand on John’s arm. “Enough, do you understand?”
He grinned. “I have no idea what you are talking about. Is there such a thing as enough?”