Lords to Be Enamored With: A Historical Regency Romance Collection

by Bridget Barton

  Chapter 5

  Charlotte walked side by side with Diana into the grand ballroom, gasping at the spectacle. They had just been formally announced and were now free to mingle with the fashionable gentlemen and ladies who flitted around the room like butterflies. All were resplendent in their finest attire. In the corner an orchestra played, filling the room with music.

  Her heart thumped. She had not been to a ball in years. It had been so long that she simply couldn’t remember when it had been. A local country ball, in Devonshire? Most likely. She had spent only one season in London when she was eighteen. After that she had had her accident, and that had been the end of her social soirees.

  That local country dance would have not been like this, she thought, taking in the splendour. They were at Millington House, the Duke of Richley’s grand estate on Piccadilly. This was the duke and duchess’s annual midsummer ball. And she still couldn’t quite believe that her family had received an invitation to it, let alone that she had plucked up the courage to attend.

  “Why are you surprised?” George had asked over breakfast when the butler brought in the invitation and their mother had informed them. He carefully sliced the top off his boiled egg. “We always get invited to it. It is only because you haven’t been in London so long that you don’t know that, Lottie.”

  Charlotte’s heart had started thumping then too. “Is the invitation for all of us?”

  “Of course it is,” boomed her father from the head of the table, shaking out his newspaper with a flourish. “But I daresay you shall not attend, as always, Charlotte.”

  Charlotte had reddened, a little stunned, although she didn’t know why she was hurt. What her father said was perfectly true – she usually avoided any social event like the plague. Even old ladies’ tea parties at the local vicarage, never mind fashionable balls in the city where the crème de la crème of London society would be in attendance.

  Her heart beat a little faster as she picked up her teacup. A ball. And not just any ball. Lord Sebastian would be there. He must be there. He was the oldest son of the duke. That fact alone should have made her want to run for the hills, as always. But strangely it didn’t. She had told Diana that she had cast him from her mind, but it simply wasn’t true. She had thought about the handsome young man in the days since their meeting more than she would like to admit even to herself.

  She put down her teacup decisively and stared at her father. “I would like to attend if I may, Papa.”

  Her mother looked like as though she were about to suffer an apoplexy. The countess’s teacup clattered to the table, spilling tea on the crisp white tablecloth. Diana gasped, throwing her hands to her face in delight. George grinned from ear to ear. And her father, always given to understatement, had merely shaken his newspaper again and grunted his approval.

  And now she was here, pinching herself. She was at the ball.

  She took a deep breath, turning to her sister. “I think we should dance, Di. What do you say?”

  ***

  Charlotte cast her eyes over the room, sipping champagne. There were three sparkling chandeliers suspended from the ceiling, casting light onto the assembly below. This room surpassed even her own family’s ballroom for grandeur. Her eyes trailed over the gilt etching on the walls, and the polished sparkle of the marble floor beneath them. You could barely see it underneath the feet of the people milling about the room. It was crowded. So crowded that she had developed a slight headache when dancing the quadrille and had to leave Diana and George to seek refreshment.

  Sighing, she stared down at her gown. It was expensive to be sure, but she knew it didn’t compare with the fashionable gowns of the other ladies. She had seen them smile tightly as their eyes swept over her. She had never worried about such things before, but strangely it now bothered her. She was trying not to tell herself it was because she wanted to look pretty if she ran into a certain duke’s eldest son.

  Her head thumped harder. She hadn’t seen his lordship at all, even though her eyes had automatically scanned the crowd for him. Surely he must be here? But even as the thought slid into her mind, she tried to dismiss it. She was being silly. Even if she did see him, he would probably ignore her. Dismiss her as that clumsy young woman he had collided with. And seeing all the beautiful ladies here tonight, in gowns far fancier than her own, he would probably not even give her the time of day.

  She frowned. The crowd was closing in on her. She felt like she could barely breathe in here, and her head thumped relentlessly. Perhaps she should take some air on the balcony.

  She wove her way through the crowd, seeking sanctuary.

  ***

  The air was cool and refreshing and the balcony was mercifully devoid of anyone else. Charlotte gazed into the grounds, watching a water fountain with two nymphs intertwined spray water into the air from a conch shell. It was opulent and overstated, like everything in this house. Totally befitting the residence of a duke and a duchess.

  Diana was suddenly by her side, taking her hand gently. “Dearest? Are you well?”

  Charlotte smiled. “Perfectly well, dear Di. I had a slight headache and desired some air.”

  “This is the best place for it,” said a deep voice behind them.

  They both spun around, shocked. Standing there was Lord Sebastian. Charlotte’s heart started thumping harder. He was even more handsome than she remembered, cutting a dashing figure in his evening attire. Her eyes travelled over his white breeches, white shirt with a silk cravat, and a long black tailcoat.

  He bowed, and they curtseyed deeply.

  “Lady Charlotte.” His green eyes were shining. “May I say you look lovely tonight?”

  Charlotte blushed, clearing her throat. “May I present my sister? Lord Sebastian Wharton, this is Lady Diana Lumley.”

  Lord Sebastian bowed again and Diana acknowledged it, before turning keen eyes on her sister. Charlotte tried to ignore her. She would never hear the end of it when they got home.

  “I might just take a stroll along the balcony,” smiled Diana now. “I feel in need of some air myself. I will be close, dear sister.” She squeezed Charlotte’s arm, smiling at Lord Sebastian, then drifted away, still in sight but far enough away that she couldn’t hear what they were saying.

  Charlotte’s face burned a little deeper. Her sister was trying to be discreet, she knew that. The rules of chaperonage were still being observed but she was giving them some privacy. Still, would it be too obvious? And Lord Sebastian mightn’t desire to speak to her alone, anyway. She glanced after her sister, feeling at a loss for words.

  Sebastian cleared his throat. “I hope I didn’t startle you. I just saw you coming out here and I wanted to take the opportunity …” He stared at her. “Inside, it is very crowded, and hard to hear yourself think, let alone anyone else.”

  Charlotte turned to him, gathering herself. “You did startle me a little. But it was a very pleasant shock.” Her blush deepened again. What was she saying? “I mean, it is not unpleasant that you decided to interrupt us.”

  He smiled slightly. “I know what you mean.” He paused, his smile widening. “I think.”

  Charlotte stared at her sister, who was milling around the balcony, staring out at the fountain. Diana turned, smiling in encouragement.

  “Your home is magnificent, my lord,” she said now, turning back to him. “I have never seen a ballroom like it in my life.”

  He laughed. “It is nothing compared to the one at our home back in Sussex. But my mother and father are very proud of it, nonetheless.” He bowed slightly. “I thank you for your kind words, Lady Charlotte. I hope you are quite recovered from our … collision on Bond Street last week?”

  Charlotte laughed. “Quite! There was no damage to speak of, my lord. My head is not bruised.” She hesitated. “Although I must apologise again for my clumsiness. I fear my brother will never let me forget it.”

  “That sounds like Castlereagh.” He grinned. “It was as much my fault as yo
urs, Lady Charlotte. I tend to get distracted when I am walking, watching the sights around me, or thinking back to something in my mind.”

  Charlotte smiled ruefully. “That is exactly what happened to me. I was watching turtle doves flying in the air and thinking back to how I used to climb high and disturb their nests when I was a child.” She blushed. “I do apologise. I am being fanciful, talking of such things.”

  “Not at all,” he said slowly. “I find it charming. I like to bird watch too. Do you go to Hyde Park? The Serpentine River is full of birdlife. I sometimes pass the time that way when I am in town.”

  Charlotte shook her head. “Not in many years, since I was a child. At home in Devonshire I often stroll or sit by our lake and watch the birdlife.” She paused. “I think that the same pair of swans come back to our lake every year. I have watched them closely, and they have the same markings. And they are always together, gliding around side by side.”

  Sebastian’s eyes gleamed. “They mate for life, you know. The swans. Poets have written about it.”

  Charlotte smiled. “Indeed. Coleridge wrote an epigram, comparing swans to a singer.” She paused. “But I think he was in jest. It was hardly a serious work.”

  “A mere two lines long,” he said slowly. “I am surprised you have heard of it. His epigrams are not famous.”

  “I enjoy Coleridge’s work,” she replied. “And our library at home is full of great books to peruse. It seems that is all I tend to do nowadays.” She smiled a little wistfully. “And watch the swans, of course.”

  He stared at her. “Why is that, Lady Charlotte? As much as I like swans and reading, I like to socialise as well.” He hesitated. “And surely you like to ride?”

  Charlotte stiffened, just a little. How had the conversation veered onto this? She didn’t want to talk to him about what she liked to do – or more to the point, about what she didn’t do. It was skirting dangerously close to her malady, and her accident. She had no desire to talk to him about either, and quite frankly, it was none of his business anyway.

  “I should go back inside,” she said slowly. “I find that my headache has diminished.” She turned to Diana, still gazing at the fountain. “Sister, let us return. Our parents will be wondering where we have disappeared to.”

  Diana, surprised, nodded and came towards them. Lord Sebastian looked troubled, but she merely curtseyed, walking past him. As she grew close, he gazed down at her. “I will accompany you, Lady Charlotte. I am going back in myself.”

  Charlotte nodded. What else could she do? The three of them entered the room. An acquaintance claimed Diana almost as soon as they did, and then she was left staring at him. He turned to her, gazing down at her, as if he wanted to say something.

  A young lady, with golden hair and dressed in a sweeping pale green silk gown adorned with bows and lace, suddenly interrupted them. “My lord! I have been searching for you everywhere.” She sounded breathless. “Your lady mother is looking for you and says you must not tarry.”

  Sebastian hesitated, still gazing at Charlotte. “I do apologise, Lady Charlotte. Miss Drake insists my mother must see me. Perhaps we may talk again …?”

  “Of course,” Charlotte smiled, but the young lady was already dragging him away. He glanced back once, then was swept through the crowd. Her smile faded. Why did she feel so disappointed? And what was this strange pang she felt as soon as the young lady claimed him?

  It strangled her for a moment, a hot, sudden rush of intense feeling of dislike of the young lady, who was as pretty and vacuous as all of them, she thought sourly, with her golden bouncing ringlets and big blue eyes. Whoever she was, she was probably exactly the type of woman he usually admired. What would he want with a pale, brooding woman such as herself?

  Nothing, she thought despondently. Absolutely nothing. It had been a close call, that was all. She knew she should stay away from him. She had been walking away from him anyway. She should be glad. The games of courtship and romance were not for the likes of her, and never would be.

  ***

  Alicia glanced up at him. “You may well think me naughty, my lord, but I must admit to a little lie.” She smiled, exposing a row of small white teeth. “Your mother is not calling you at all. I simply wanted to claim you for myself.”

  Sebastian raised his eyebrows. “Miss Drake?”

  She laughed. “Oh, don’t look so surprised, my lord. You cannot be monopolised by one young lady for the entire evening,” she smiled archly. “Especially one who has bad fame, such as Lady Charlotte Lumley. It wouldn’t do at all now, would it?”

  Sebastian was bewildered. Was she flirting with him? It seemed that she was. And she had just lied to him so that she could claim him to herself. In the distance, he saw Percy staring at them sourly as he sipped from a glass of champagne. His brother drained the glass and stormed away.

  “Shall we dance, my lord?” Her smile widened. “I can see the dancers lining up for the next one.” She grabbed his arm, quite suddenly, pulling him toward the dancefloor.

  Sebastian felt he couldn’t refuse her without being intolerably rude, even though she had just lied to him and taken him away under false pretences.

  His lips tightened. He had been so close to Lady Charlotte, and then she had taken fright. He had known her family were invited, but he hadn’t dared hope that she might come. He had been scanning the crowd anxiously all night for a sign of her. And when he had found her, all his promises to himself that he should avoid her had disappeared into nothing. She had been lovelier than he remembered and she stood out from the garishly overdressed ladies, swamped in frills and bows, in her simple white silk gown, a sprig of tiny white flowers in her dark hair.

  Alicia dragged him to the dancefloor and he stood across from her to dance the jig, as was expected. But he couldn’t stop his eyes searching beyond her to where Lady Charlotte had been. His heart lurched. She had melted into the crowd, as if she had never been there.

  Lady Charlotte Lumley was an enigma. A puzzle. Did he want to solve that puzzle? His mind told him to leave it alone. She had ‘bad fame’, as Miss Drake had so indelicately put it. He could not afford to get involved with her.

  But his heart … well, his heart might be telling him something different entirely.

  Chapter 6

  Dulcie’s hands were on her shoulders. “Are you all right, my lady?”

  Charlotte gripped the maid, turning her face towards her stomach. “It will pass, Dulcie. A sudden wave of giddiness. I fear that my vision is fading in and out as well.”

  “That is it.” The maid’s voice was determined. “If your symptoms are returning, you can’t go out gallivanting …”

  Charlotte stood up slowly. The worst of it was over. All that remained was a little nausea. “George and Diana are expecting me. I cannot let them down and nor do I want to. I am determined to live my life.”

  Dulcie raised her eyes to the ceiling. “Are you half sprung? You should rest.”

  Charlotte sighed. “I have rested too long, Dulcie. It is time to live.”

  ***

  George grimaced as he downed the lemonade, placing the glass back on the table. “I say, that lemonade is a little on the tart side.” He shuddered. “What I wouldn’t do for a proper drink. But they are so boring here with their mid-week rules about no alcohol.” He rolled his eyes dramatically.

  “It will do you good,” said Charlotte drily. She stared around at Almack’s Assembly Room, where all the ton gathered during the week. You could only attend if you received a voucher from one of the organisers. Somehow, George had procured vouchers for himself and his sisters, and now they were out on a Wednesday night to mingle among the fashionable set.