A glance at Edward confirmed he was still conversing with his mother. “Surely you realize the danger of where you were.”
Her lips twisted briefly. “I do.”
Though he dearly wanted to ask why she’d gone or what she intended, now wasn’t the time, nor was he certain it was his place. Nor could he say nothing. “You didn’t respond to my request for your promise.”
Her chin tipped up with defiance. He could practically see one emotion after another running over her expression. “Did you mention it to Edward?” The hint of worry darkening her gaze tightened something inside him.
“Not yet.” He hoped she heard his veiled threat. He was willing to do whatever it took to protect her even if that meant telling Edward. “Do you intend to return there?”
She considered his question for a moment. “Most likely not.”
“Hmm. Your hesitation makes me wonder if you speak the truth.”
During his university days, he had spent a fair amount of time with Edward and his family and thought of Charlotte much like a younger sister of his own. At least that was what he’d convinced himself early that morning when he’d sought his bed, unable to dismiss her from his thoughts.
Yet thinking of the woman standing before him as such was impossible. She didn’t bring to mind sisterly thoughts. She was a beautiful, desirable woman. One he would have taken a second look at no matter where he saw her. It was proving difficult to merge his previous impression of her with the disturbing one he now held.
“I don’t intend to return there.” She glanced away as she offered the answer.
“You are a poor liar.” Her quiet gasp nearly made him smile. He never would’ve guessed that confronting her would be this entertaining.
“What makes you think I’m lying?” Her gaze locked on him with no small measure of surprise.
“Let's just say my military experience aids me in that regard.” Most officers had to be good at reading others as they needed to make snap decisions about who to put in charge of what based on first impressions, body language, and attitude. Charlotte was hiding something and he intended to find out what. “Why don’t you tell me what you were doing there?”
Her polite smile held a distinct chill. The lady was no namby-pamby. Unfortunately, the trait made him admire her even more.
“While I appreciate that you and Edward have renewed your friendship, we are practically strangers. You can’t expect me to confide in you.”
Her response would no doubt have most men easing back. But not him. He didn't pause to consider the reason he couldn't let this go.
“I appreciate that.” He nodded as if in agreement. “Perhaps it would be best if you spoke with Edward about it then. I’d be happy to gain his attention for you and explain the situation.”
Her scowl brought forth her dimple, causing his chest to tighten in the oddest fashion.
“I would rather he didn’t know about this.”
“Oh?” He lifted his brows to feign surprise. “Then maybe I would do after all.” He couldn't help a small feeling of triumph at winning the argument. But it was her safety that was his true concern.
When she didn’t reply, he added, “I feel a certain protectiveness toward you.” Though surprised he felt the need to explain, he wanted her to understand the reason behind his persistence. “I would feel terrible if anything happened to you when I had the chance to prevent it.”
“Nothing is going to happen.” Her confidence was admirable, but he knew better than her the dangers life held.
“Who were you with?” Perhaps she would be willing to answer that question.
“Friends.” The way she bit her lower lip suggested she was weighing the pros and cons of telling him more.
“Which friends?” Their opportunity to speak would be over any moment, and he’d learned nothing.
Too late did he realize he’d asked the wrong question. He hadn't been in polite society for years and might not know who she revealed.
Yet he sensed something was amiss. He didn't want her to find trouble. Though she seemed far different from the silly young ladies of which society was normally full, he had no doubt she was an innocent. She might not recognize trouble even when it stared her in the face.
“Lady Barbara Candon and her brother, Lord Palmer.”
Though he searched his memory, their names weren’t familiar. While he was reassured to think another woman had accompanied her, he couldn't set aside his suspicions.
“And did you find what you were looking for?”
A satisfied smile curled her lips. “Yes, I believe I did. It was quite enjoyable.”
“I hope you take better care in the future,” he warned. “I'd hate to see trouble find you.”
“With luck and proper planning that won't happen.”
Her response had him clenching his jaw. Before he could protest, Edward turned toward them, cutting off their conversation.
“This isn’t over,” James whispered.
She raised a brow as if daring him to say something to her brother.
He would if necessary. But first, he wanted to know more about the man who’d escorted her to the party.
~*~
“Did you go?”
The whispered question had Charlotte turning to see one of her best friends, Margaret Gold, at her side at the Arlington Ball the following evening. “When did you arrive?”
Margaret didn’t attend many functions as she was often home helping her mother take care of her ailing father.
“A few minutes ago.”
“Wonderful, though I didn’t think you were coming.”
“Father is having a better day, so Mother insisted I attend.” From the way Margaret tightened her lips, Charlotte had to guess that “better” was a relative term.
This ball was one of the few Charlotte had been looking forward to, and she was delighted Margaret was here as well. Lord and Lady Arlington were well-liked and always had lovely music along with delicious food.
If only she felt better. She now thoroughly understood the effects of imbibing too much champagne. The nagging ache in her head that bothered her the entire day made it difficult to think, let alone enjoy the music.
“I agreed mostly because I wanted to find out how things went last evening.” Margaret raised a brow. “Did you go?” she repeated.
She was the only person who knew about Charlotte’s plan to find adventure this Season. She also knew why.
“Yes.” Charlotte sighed with no small measure of satisfaction as the memories of the evening flew through her mind.
“And?”
“It was glorious.” Charlotte grinned. “Even better than I hoped.”
Margaret glanced about as if to make certain no one could overhear them. “How wonderful! What was it like? Tell me every detail.”
Charlotte studied her friend, surprised at how excited she was. Margaret rarely displayed a yearning for a different life than the one she had, although hers was far from easy. “Why don’t you join me on the next outing and experience it for yourself?”
“You’re going to do it again?” Margaret’s eyes widened with astonishment. “Are you certain that’s wise?”
“No.” In fact, the tightening of her stomach suggested it was a terrible idea. “But I’m considering it anyway.” Charlotte wasn’t sure if she was telling Margaret or herself. Though she’d thoroughly enjoyed the demimonde party, she well knew that each time she ventured out, the risk of being caught grew.
“Was it truly that entertaining? What did you do?”
Charlotte pondered the question for a long moment. “I suppose part of the allure was the element of danger. But I will say seeing everything was a thrill. The décor was fabulous—all gold and silver and so much mirrored glass. The clothing of the guests was bright, colorful, and some quite outrageous.”
“Oh, I would love to see that.” Margaret sighed with appreciation. Her eye towar
d fashion and style was one of the many reasons Charlotte admired her.
Suddenly her friend’s eyes narrowed. “Did Lord Palmer behave himself?”
“To my surprise, he did.” Charlotte couldn’t deny there had been several moments when she’d been made uncomfortable by his stare and the way he frequently touched her. She hadn’t been able to decide if those had been deliberate or accidental.
“Did you waltz?” Margaret’s half-smile suggested she longed to as well.
“I did.” Though it was the fact that she’d done so with James that had given her a thrill. He’d been a wonderful partner.
“You truly enjoyed yourself?”
Charlotte nodded. “Lord Palmer brought a bottle of champagne that we drank in the carriage.”
“That accounts for the shadows under your eyes.”
“Along with the fact that we were out much later than I intended.” Charlotte considered sharing that she’d been recognized by James but decided to keep that to herself.
He had changed so much in the three years he’d been abroad. Then again, so had she. The man for whom she’d had a secret tendre was gone. The enigmatic man in his place was a virtual stranger, albeit a handsome one. She was surprised by how persistent he’d been about learning why she’d gone to the party and with whom. But she would rather answer to James than Edward. If her brother learned what she’d been up to, it would be disastrous.
“I‘ll be more careful next time,” Charlotte said, mostly to herself. “Being caught would bring an end to my adventures. That won’t do.”
Margaret’s expression turned sympathetic. “How has your father been?”
Over the past two years, they’d shared stories of their fathers and how their health challenges had changed their own lives.
Margaret’s father had lost much of his memory and become a shadow of his former self. His confusion tore at Margaret and had been difficult for her and her two older sisters as well as her mother. But with both her sisters married and out of the house, it fell to Margaret to shoulder the burden with her mother.
While Charlotte knew Margaret’s older sisters remained heavily involved, it wasn’t the same as having them in the house each and every day.
“Not well of late.” Charlotte’s father had his memory but had never been anything other than disapproving of his wife and children. No matter what they did, it was never good enough. Never what they should’ve done. There was no such thing as a smile or a kind word. The weight of his constant dissatisfaction had been especially difficult for her mother. She’d given up trying to please him years ago and now merely endured her life.
His irritability was made worse when his gout acted up as it had this morning. He didn’t speak but barked orders at everyone. The entire household, from the scullery maid to Charlotte’s mother, tiptoed about with the hope of avoiding his wrath.
While Charlotte knew not all marriages were like her parents, she held little hope of anything more when her father was determined to select her husband. He’d already made it clear that he’d choose someone he approved of, which meant her future husband would be like her father. The very idea nearly made her shudder.
Edward had also given up trying to gain their father’s praise or arguing with him about his decisions. He now spent as much time as possible out of the house, preferring to drink and gamble with friends. She was surprised he hadn’t yet moved out and found an apartment of his own. Was it because he realized how difficult life would become for both her mother and Charlotte if he did so?
“I’m sorry. I know matters are far worse when he’s not feeling well.” Margaret’s sympathy helped. Speaking of her troubles with someone who understood was a relief. “Then we should make the best of the evening. Who will you dance with first?”
Charlotte followed Margaret’s gaze around the crowded ballroom. Viscount Chivington stood a short distance away and nearly always asked her to dance. Then there was Lord Dalton though Charlotte didn’t especially care for him or his poor sense of rhythm.
“Who is the delectable gentleman moving in our direction that can’t seem to take his gaze from you?” Margaret whispered.
Charlotte followed her friend’s gaze. Her breath caught at the sight of James walking toward her. Based on his stern expression, he was prepared to finish their earlier conversation, causing a thrill to run through her despite herself.
Chapter Three
James ignored the surprised looks of those he passed as he made his way through the throng at the ball. This was the first formal gathering he’d attended since his return to London. He recognized several people with whom he should speak, but that would have to wait until he had a word with Lady Charlotte. After all, she was the reason he was here.
It had only taken a few questions here and there to form an opinion on Lord Palmer, who was younger than James by several years. Those he’d asked hadn’t provided a favorable impression. Far from it.
Charles Lowery, Viscount Palmer, was a rogue of the worst sort. One who focused solely on his own pleasures. It didn’t sound as if it mattered who he hurt in the process.
One story suggested he’d cheated at cards and won a significant amount though no one had proof. Another told of his aunt who died under mysterious circumstances, leaving Palmer a tidy sum. The last one had been the sorry tale of a young lady who’d been ruined by the cad. Why someone hadn’t called Palmer out for not proposing was beyond James.
Those rumors were made worse by the fact that Lady Charlotte was somehow involved with him. James might not understand the protectiveness he felt toward her, but he had to act on it. The alternative was to share what he’d learned with her brother. He’d prefer not to do that unless necessary as he was certain Edward wouldn’t be pleased.
As far as James was concerned, where there was smoke, there was fire. How could a rakehell like Palmer move about in Society without being taken to task for his behavior?
As James made his way toward Lady Charlotte, he was struck once again by her beauty. This evening, she wore a pale lavender gown that turned her blue-green eyes violet. Her honey tresses were gathered in a loose chignon with several strands left free to frame her face. Her head tilted as she watched him as if she were puzzled by his determined approach.
She’d learned the reason behind his presence soon enough.
“Good evening, Lady Charlotte.” He forced himself to bow and then turned to her companion. Social pleasantries were one thing he hadn’t missed while he’d been abroad. There was no need for such niceties on the battlefield. When he had something on his mind, taking the time to be polite seemed ridiculous. He’d prefer to come straight to the point.
The lady standing beside Charlotte stared at him with great interest though a certain coolness gleamed in her eyes that suggested she kept people at arm’s length.
“Viscount Redmond. What a surprise.” Charlotte turned to her companion. “Margaret, this is James Crosby, Viscount Redmond, a friend of my brother’s.” She looked back at James. “Miss Margaret Gold.”
“How do you do, my lord?” Margaret curtsied.
“Well and you?” he asked, his gaze immediately returning to Charlotte.
“Quite well. Thank you.” The amusement in Miss Gold’s tone made James realize his mistake of not waiting for her response before focusing on Charlotte.
He blinked and looked back at Miss Gold. “I’m pleased to hear that.”
She nodded, her amused smile remaining in place. At least she didn’t have dimples that threatened to distract him.
“I would like a private word with you,” he advised Charlotte, not phrasing it as a question, because it wasn’t. He needed to speak with her as soon as possible.
Charlotte’s eyes widened then she glanced about. “I don’t believe privacy is possible here.”
He gritted his teeth. Of course, they couldn’t have a private word in the middle of a ballroom. But he didn’t dare wait until he next called
on Edward with the hope he’d see her. James wanted to warn her before she took another misstep and something disastrous occurred.
“Perhaps the two of you might dance?” Miss Gold lifted a brow as if surprised they hadn’t thought of the solution themselves. “That could provide an opportunity.”
James latched onto the idea without hesitation. The situation had him so rattled he wasn’t thinking clearly. “May I have the honor of the next dance?” he asked Charlotte.
“How kind of you.” Charlotte appeared as amused as her friend.
He offered his elbow, and they walked toward the dance floor, leaving Miss Gold with her sister who’d been standing nearby.
“I must say I’m surprised to see you here,” Charlotte whispered, her voice low. “I don’t believe you’ve attended any events since your return. Why is that?”
“I’m here to speak with you.”
“How flattering.” The doubt in her tone was unmistakable.
He gave himself a mental shake. No doubt he was coming across like a boorish oaf. “Forgive me. It has been some time since I’ve been among those in the polite world. My manners are rusty.”
“What is so urgent that you are risking life and limb by coming to a ball?”
James glanced about, all too aware of the interested looks from those around them. He’d nearly forgotten how crowded a ballroom could be. The realization was enough to cause him to break out into a cold sweat. Crowds made him incredibly uncomfortable. “I’ll explain when we have a moment alone.”
The current dance ended, and they took their place on the floor with James quelling his panic as he realized the upcoming dance would be a Scottish reel. He searched his memory for the proper steps only to find it blank. It was a dance, he chided himself. How difficult could this be?
He drew a breath to ease the pounding of his heart then followed the movements of the gentlemen near him, relieved when the correct steps came to him. After a misstep or two, he found the rhythm. Perhaps a few elements of Society, such as dancing, weren’t so terrible.
His gaze caught on Charlotte and in short order, all else fell away. Something about her calmed his soul as if she were his port in a storm. Dancing with her brought to mind a different time before darkness clung to him. It was pleasant to forget about all else except this moment.
To Dare a Rogue Page 3
