Weddings and Scandals: Regency Romance Collection

by Alec, Joyce

  Wickton grimaced. “I looked in on the fellow the first day you told me of him but he was sound asleep. The maids are doing an excellent job of caring for him, I am told, which means that very soon, he will be gone from this house.”

  Charlotte tipped her head, studying her brother carefully. “You did not recognize him, then?”

  Lord Wickton looked at her sharply. “No, why? Should I know him?”

  She shook her head. “I just thought that, given he has every appearance of a gentleman, you might have recognized him,” she said carefully. “The cut of his clothes and the fineness of his manner and speech betrayed his status, that is all.”

  Lord Wickton’s frown deepened. “Mayhap I should look in on the fellow again,” he muttered, appearing a little uncertain. “You said that you did not yet know his name?”

  Charlotte shook her head. “And you did insist that I not go to his side, Wickton,” she replied innocently, “so how could I try to discover such a thing?” She did not tell her brother that the man had refused to give her an indication of whom he might be, which had both frustrated and pained her in equal measure. “But I do not think that now is the time for you to go visiting his sickbed, Wickton, given that our guests will be arriving at any moment.”

  This seemed to draw her brother from his reverie. His frown lifted, his eyes sharpened, and he nodded, a smile brightening his appearance once more. “You are right,” he agreed, snapping his heels together and offering her his arm. “Shall we go? It would not do to be tardy.”

  “No,” she agreed, holding back a heavy sigh, and she took his proffered arm. “It would not do at all.”

  Two hours later, Charlotte felt exhausted. She had stood by her brother’s side and greeted each of the guests as they had come into the ballroom. She had smiled and nodded and had at least three gentlemen actually kiss the back of her hand when, as propriety demanded, they were simply meant to bow over it. Of course, none of the said three appeared to be regretful of their action, for they had each looked up at her as they began to raise their head, a gleam in their eye that had told her she was meant to be truly complimented by such a thing.

  She had not liked it at all but, of course, she had not had any other choice but to continue to smile and nod as though she found their compliments and behavior both welcome and acceptable.

  “How are you faring, Charlotte?”

  Sighing heavily and grateful for the short reprieve from dancing and conversing with each and every gentleman that seemed to seek her out within minutes of each other, Charlotte turned to her friend.

  “It is quite unbearable,” she stated as Emily’s eyes twinkled with repressed mirth. “Oh, Emily, it is truly awful.”

  “It cannot be as awful as all that,” Emily replied, in much too practical a fashion for Charlotte’s liking. “You have gentlemen seeking to dance with you, Charlotte. They want to converse with you, walk with you, and do all they can to welcome your attentions towards them.”

  Charlotte shook her head. “It is ridiculous,” she replied firmly. “Goodness knows what my brother has done in order to send them all to me.” She frowned as Emily covered her mouth with her hand and looked away. “You know he has done something, Emily, do you not?”

  Emily chuckled, unable to keep her laughter within herself. “I am truly sorry, Charlotte,” she laughed, her hand falling away. “I should have, mayhap, informed you at the first, but I was not certain until this evening that it was true.”

  Charlotte frowned harder, her heart quickening furiously in her chest. “What do you mean?”

  Emily put a gentle hand on Charlotte’s arm and Charlotte had to force herself not to brush it off at once, her frustration turning to mild panic.

  “It is only that I heard the rumor that Lord Wickton has been informing those of his acquaintance that your dowry has been increased of late,” she said, a smile still playing about her mouth. “And that you are eager to seek a husband, but that you are being most specific about such a thing.” She tilted her head and looked into Charlotte’s angry expression. “I do not think he knows you at all.”

  Charlotte let out a long breath, aware that Emily’s mirth came from the ridiculousness of Lord Wickton’s actions and not the circumstances she now found herself in.

  “So that is why there are so many eager gentlemen,” she muttered darkly to herself. “They are seeking my large dowry now, is that it?” Closing her eyes, she pressed one gloved hand to her temples for a moment. “My idiotic brother has decided that this is the best way to ensure that I find someone suitable, then, is it?”

  Emily’s expression was still mirthful. “It is,” she agreed, shaking her head in mock dismay. “I cannot believe he would consider doing something so foolish.”

  “Is he truly that desperate to be rid of me?” Charlotte fumed, wishing she could go and find her brother and rail at him in front of each and every one of their guests. “Is that just how urgently he wants me gone from his house?”

  “Oh, I do not think it is that at all.” Emily’s hand tightened on Charlotte’s arm. “I think that he cares for you very deeply, as his sister.” She smiled, but Charlotte’s frustration did not ebb away. “He wants to do what he believes is best for you, and that, to his mind, is to see you wed.”

  “And so he will put me up as some sort of prize?” Charlotte protested angrily.

  Emily’s face fell, her hand dropping from Charlotte’s arm. “That is not fair, Charlotte.”

  Shaking her head, Charlotte turned away, her anger burning hot. This was not part of the arrangement she had made with her brother. She had not agreed to his attempts to prove her even more desirable to gentlemen whom she wanted nothing whatsoever to do with. Did he truly think that she would be happy and content with a gentleman who only sought the wealth that she would bring to the marriage? Surely he could not.

  “Charlotte, where are you going?”

  “I—I must step outside for a few minutes,” Charlotte said thickly, hating that tears were burning in her eyes. “Do excuse me, Emily.”

  Praying silently that no one would disturb her nor catch her arm to insist that this was their dance, Charlotte quickly weaved her way through the crowd of guests and towards the open doors that led into the small gardens beyond. The townhouse boasted larger gardens than most gentlemen possessed, although they were vastly smaller compared to what her brother had back at the estate, but they would hide Charlotte well enough for a few minutes whilst she regained her composure. She had to ensure that she did not lose her temper nor behave in a manner her brother would deem inappropriate. Should she do so, then everything she had worked to gain would be gone in a trice. Their agreement would come to an end and she would have to endure her brother’s continued insistence that she avail herself of every suitable gentleman’s attentions, whether she wished it or not.

  The cool night air helped calm her raging temper, her hot cheeks fighting against the cold as she hurried towards the back of the gardens where she might hide herself for a few moments. No one would find her here. No one would follow her. She just needed to take a few calming breaths and then all would be restored.

  The stone garden wall spread out a large looming shadow across the moonlit garden and Charlotte hurried to wrap herself in its darkness. Her gown flared out behind her with a sudden gust of wind and she heard a quiet laugh coming from somewhere behind her.

  Her cheeks flared with heat as she turned around to look. She could not see anything in particular, given the gloom that surrounded her, but it was apparent that there was someone else in the gardens. A couple, mayhap. It was not unusual for gentlemen to seek the company of a lady out in the quiet of the gardens for a few minutes alone, although the lady was taking a great risk to her reputation by doing so. Unless it was a very wealthy widow, with no need to concern herself with such a thing.

  The laugh came again and Charlotte felt her whole face heat. She did not know what to do, wishing for some solitude but finding that even out here
in the gardens, she was unable to find what she sought. Leaning against the wall, she took in a long breath, trying her best to rid herself of both the anger and frustration that flooded her.

  “You should not be alone out here, Miss James.”

  She let out a shriek of surprise, only to clap her hand over her mouth as she fought for breath. It would do no good to reveal to the rest of the guests that she was out here alone, although now Charlotte feared that a gentleman of some disrepute had discovered her and was now going to attempt to take advantage of her in some despicable way.

  “I needed some air,” she gasped, trying to steady herself as she peered into the shadows in an attempt to make out the gentleman who had accosted her. “You should not have followed me.”

  He chuckled, but it was not one that sent a shiver down Charlotte’s spine. In fact, it was rather warm and friendly, as though he knew her well. Charlotte quickly ran through all the gentlemen of her acquaintance, although the few she knew quite well were either already engaged or married. Was it someone she had been introduced to this evening, then?

  “You need not be afraid of me, Miss James,” the gentleman continued, his voice a little softer now and very deep. “I saw you hurrying into the gardens and wanted to ensure that you were well. It is not wise for a lady to be out alone.”

  Charlotte swallowed her fear and tried her best to speak calmly. “I am well, I thank you,” she replied, steadying herself as she searched the darkness for him. “My brother has frustrated me somewhat and I came out of doors for a time to ensure that I did not disappoint him by my behavior.”

  The gentleman chuckled. “I see. What is it that Lord Wickton has done now, might I ask?”

  For whatever reason, Charlotte found herself telling him everything, the words coming out of her in a rush. It was apparent that the gentleman knew both her and her brother and there was, therefore, very little need to keep the truth from him. Most likely, he knew it already.

  “I am sure you have heard that my brother has increased my dowry somewhat,” she said, her hands tightly curled. “That is a great incentive to gentlemen such as you, I have no doubt.” Her words became spiteful, curled up with frustration and anger. “That is why you have come out after me, is it not? It cannot truly be because you feared for my supposed safety.”

  There was no response for a time and Charlotte began to wonder whether her words had chased the gentleman away. A spark of pride began to burn in her heart, only for his voice to reach her ears again.

  “I am wounded, my lady,” he said, although there was a tinge of laughter in his tone. “There are those of us who are simply trying to be chivalrous.”

  Charlotte drew herself up, still not at all certain that she could trust this fellow, whomever he was. “I have no need to be taken care of, sir,” she replied sharply. “And if you knew me at all, then you would be well aware of that fact.”

  “I have surmised as much, my lady.” His voice was closer to her now and Charlotte felt herself shiver, as much from an awareness of his presence as a continuing fear that he meant to do her harm. “I shall leave you now, with thanks for your company and your excellent conversation.”

  Surprised, Charlotte remained silent. She did not know whether or not he had truly left her, for as much as she tried to listen for the sound of breathing or even of the rustle of bushes as he passed, she could not hear anything.

  “It would not be particularly gentlemanly of me, however, if I did not bend over your hand.”

  She yelped in surprise again at the man’s voice, which had seemed to come from nowhere.

  “I have startled you again, I see,” he said, sounding quite pleased with himself. “I do apologize. Might I bow over your hand so as to take my leave?”

  Charlotte did not mean to lift her hand to do as the stranger requested, stretching it out into the darkness in the direction of his voice. Nor did she mean to, somehow, press it against the gentleman’s chest, the sensation of which seemed to take all the breath from her lungs and make her limbs become heavy and fixed in place.

  “You are courageous, Miss James,” the gentleman said gruffly. “I am sorry to have to take my leave of you. You are an extraordinary young lady.”

  Charlotte swallowed hard and attempted to say something in response, only for the gentleman to step forward and wrap his arms about her waist. His lips landed first on her cheek before stealing her exclamation of surprise as they then landed on her mouth.

  Charlotte had never kissed a gentleman before. Indeed, she had never been this close to a gentleman before, but the sensation of being wrapped in his arms and being kissed ever so gently was almost enough to make her giddy. A small part of her was trying to force her to step backwards, to slap this fellow hard enough that his head would spin—but the gentleness of his lips against hers and the sensations that were coursing through her prevented her from even attempting to do so. She was lost in a dream, the stars seeming to sparkle so brightly that they pervaded her closed eyes. His hands were tight about her waist, her hands pressed against his chest—and then, he stepped back.

  “Good evening, Miss James.”

  His breathing was ragged, his voice a little higher in tone than it had been before. Charlotte felt suddenly lost without him beside her, staring at the blackness in front of her and wondering whether or not he was still there.

  “What is your name?” she asked hoarsely, pressing one hand against her thundering heart… but as the minutes ticked by, it became clear that she was not to have her answer.

  5

  How Charlotte managed to get through the rest of the evening, she could not say. Emily had hurried over to her the minute she had come back into the ballroom, but Charlotte had been too shocked to say anything more than a quick promise that she was not at all angry with Emily herself but had been simply frustrated by her brother and his actions.

  The rest of the evening had been a blur. She had danced and conversed and done everything that was expected of her, but in a somewhat wooden fashion that did not behoove her in any way. Not that her brother had noticed, for he had been a little too fond of the brandy that was being passed around and had seemed to be pleased with her efforts.

  It was the day after the ball and still, even though it was now mid-morning and Emily was due to call at any moment, Charlotte could not remove herself from the dreamlike state she found herself in. To have allowed herself to have been kissed in such a fashion was one thing, but to have both delighted in it and thereafter, not stopped considering it, was another.

  Rising from her seat in the library and setting her book aside—having read the same paragraph at least six times—Charlotte wandered to the window and looked down at the busy London street. Why had she behaved so foolishly? She had never allowed her head to be turned by a gentleman before, but now that one of them had, quite frankly, taken a liberty with her and kissed her without so much as a warning that he intended to do so, Charlotte found herself thinking of nothing but him. What was even more foolish was that she did not even know who it was that had kissed her so tenderly, who had spoken such kind words to her. When she had asked his name, he had either refused to answer or had already disappeared back to wherever he had come from.

  “I must be acquainted with him,” she said aloud, her mind roving over every single moment of that wonderful, terrifying kiss. “He must know who I am.” A faint blush rose in her cheeks as she thought of what he would think of her, knowing that he had kissed her with full knowledge of who she was, whilst she remained entirely at a loss. Would there be a telltale grin? A wink? A tap on the shoulder and a murmur in her ear? She would surely be able to know him by his voice, for that had been deep and gruff and not easily forgettable.

  Although, there was that moment when he bid you farewell…

  The thought had her eyes flaring wide. His voice then had not been as deep as before. In fact, it had not been gruff at all. Had the man in question changed his voice so that she would not know who he was, ev
en if they were to speak again? Why would he do such a thing? Why would he kiss her if there was no intention to do so again?

  Shame flared up in her heart. Perhaps she had just been sport to this fellow. The chance to give the bluestocking perhaps the only kiss she might ever receive in her life. Mayhap it had been out of pity. Closing her eyes tightly, Charlotte cupped her face in her hands and tried not to allow the tears that had formed in her eyes to escape.

  “Charlotte!”

  The door to the library flew open, startling her completely. Dropping her hands and blinking back her tears, she stared at her brother as he marched into the room, his hands planted firmly on his hips.

  Anxiety clouded her mind. Had someone seen her last evening? Had the gentleman who had kissed her begun to brag about his conquest? Just what had her brother heard?

  “Wickton,” she murmured, eyeing him carefully so as not to give anything away. “Is something wrong?”

  Her brother harrumphed. “You did not tell me that the fellow had left.”

  Blinking quickly to hide her shock at the fact that he had not come to berate her for retreating to the gardens alone last evening, Charlotte tipped her head and allowed a slight frown to play over her brow. “Left?”

  “The man in the guest chamber,” Lord Wickton clarified, clearly exasperated. “I went up to speak to him this morning, to see just how long he intended to wait around here for, only to find that he is already gone from the house. The staff have been utterly useless in giving me any information such as where he has gone or when, which means that most likely, you aided him without their being aware of it.” He sighed heavily and tutted at her, as though she were entirely at fault. “So, I presume he has left the house in safety?”

  Charlotte, having had no knowledge of this whatsoever, stared at her brother in complete surprise. “I have no idea as to what you are referring, Wickton,” she said honestly. “I did not know that our guest had left the house. Might I ask when the maid last saw him?”