Just a Kiss

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Just a Kiss Page 4

by Ally Broadfield


  Elizabeth motioned for the footman to fill her plate. “Instead of focusing on the faults of your suitors, you should consider your own behavior, Charlotte. You must desist in rearranging flowers in public like a common housemaid.”

  Her statement hit like a kick to Charlotte’s stomach. She prided herself on the distinctive arrangements she made from the flowers they grew at Burdett, though Elizabeth evidently did not wish for it to be known who created them.

  Her pride wounded from Elizabeth’s stinging remark, Charlotte excused herself. Richard’s town house was neither the largest nor the most grand in the neighborhood, but it was favorably situated near Hyde Park, where she could find fresh air to clear her head. Charlotte invited Nanny Filcher and her nephews to join her in exploring the park, which would likely be largely uninhabited this early in the day.

  “Charlotte,” Elizabeth called as they prepared to leave, “do return promptly. Horace is to call on you this afternoon.”

  Just what she needed to brighten her day. Perhaps she would find a way to be ill if she could not be late.

  As they walked to the park, five-year-old Michael tugged on her skirts. “Amelia says you’re going to be married and move away, but I don’t believe her. You’re always going to live with us, aren’t you?”

  Charlotte stopped and knelt next to him. “I will have to move to a new house someday, darling. I can’t live with you forever.”

  A tear slid down his cheek. “You’ve already been living with us forever. Why can’t you stay?”

  “When a girl marries, she has to move to her husband’s house. But I promise I’ll visit you as often as I can.” She wiped away his tears.

  He took a deep, shuddering breath. “All right, I guess. But I’d rather you just live with us forever.”

  Charlotte smiled. She just might, since no one but Horace had shown any interest in marrying her yet.

  After more than an hour of brisk walking and a rousing game of tag, the boys settled down to investigate a fountain while their grateful nanny rested on a nearby bench. Charlotte chose to continue walking. Of all the gentlemen she’d met since her arrival in London, there was only one she imagined herself wanting to know more intimately. She wondered what it would feel like to kiss him, to run her fingers through his thick, dark hair. Both Charlotte’s thoughts and her momentum were abruptly halted when she crashed into a horse blocking the path in front of her.

  “I say, Miss Lightwood, are you all right?” Lord Marley said. It was as if her imagination had conjured him to appear in this very spot.

  The timbre of his voice set her heartbeat into a staccato rhythm. Despite the protection afforded by the rim of her bonnet, the sun shone so brightly she had to shade her eyes as she gazed up at him. “Yes, I am fine, thank you, Lord Marley.”

  The horse shook its head, and he loosened the reins. “Then why did you walk into my horse?”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Why did you position him in the middle of the path?”

  He returned the wave of a gentleman trotting past along Rotten Row. “I’d thought to greet you, but had I known you meant to attack my horse, I would have moved on.”

  “I did no such thing.” Charlotte stroked Lord Marley’s very fine bay gelding along his neck and shoulder. “He’s beautiful.”

  Lord Marley momentarily appeared as if he’d sat on a thorn. He cleared his throat before speaking. “If you step back, I shall dismount so we can converse more comfortably. I know how overwhelmed you must be by my illustrious presence, but I shouldn’t wish to be the cause of you injuring your neck.” His eyes sparkled with mirth.

  Charlotte let out a disgusted snort and stepped back.

  “Why, I do believe that is the first time I’ve been snorted at by a lady.” He swung down from his horse.

  “That’s the first time you’ve ever noticed a lady snort at you, more likely,” Charlotte said mildly. She noted a spaniel trotting along behind the man on horseback. A wave of longing for her own dog unfurled inside her, and she cursed Elizabeth for forbidding her to bring her dog to London.

  He raised one brow but declined to comment. “May I walk with you?”

  “Of course, my lord. Please call me Charlotte. I do not like to be called Miss Lightwood.” In truth, she was no longer accustomed to responding to her surname. Everyone now called her by her given name because Elizabeth didn’t wish for Charlotte to be confused as one of her offspring.

  He tapped his riding crop against his boot. “As you wish. You may take leave to call me Sebastian.”

  Charlotte slanted her head back, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face, which was rare this time of year. Lord Marley sighed. Their eyes met when she turned toward him.

  He drew his brows together. “Does your family call you Charlotte? It seems rather a long name for everyday use.”

  “As opposed to Sebastian,” she said, giving him a sideways glance. “I am sorry the recitation of my name is too taxing for you, my lord, but I have no other. You may revert to calling me Miss Lightwood if you prefer.”

  “I guess I shall have to be satisfied with Charlotte. And you are supposed to call me Sebastian.” He returned her sideways glance.

  “Sebastian.” She liked the sound of his name. It rolled off her tongue quite pleasantly. “What about you? Don’t you have a sobriquet I should use?”

  “None I can repeat in front of a lady. And none I would wish you to use.” Without warning, Sebastian stopped and searched the area. “Where is your maid? Surely you are not without an escort.”

  Charlotte stroked his horse again. “I’m here with Nanny Filcher and the children.”

  He nodded. “Ah, that explains your disheveled appearance.”

  “My what?” Her gloves were a bit soiled, but she could find nothing amiss with her dress. Perhaps the hem was a tad dirty, but that wasn’t uncommon when one went out walking.

  “It’s not your dress so much as your hair that contributes to your general state of disheveledness.” He reached out and ran his fingers down the length of a loose tress.

  A rush of heat suffused her. She attempted to tuck her hair back into her bonnet. “I don’t believe disheveledness is a word, my lord.”

  “It should be. Is dishevelment more to your liking? I expect it would work in this situation.” He waved toward her dress.

  She swallowed, his nearness momentarily stealing her words. “Yes, my lord.”

  He frowned at the scene behind her. “Miss Lightwood,” he enunciated with the utmost formality, “are you certain there is a nanny attending those children?”

  When Charlotte turned, she was not surprised to see her eldest nephew, Jacob, attempting to scale the fountain. “Yes, she is on one of those benches over there.” Charlotte waved vaguely to the left. Sebastian’s gelding stomped at a fly, and she brushed it from his shoulder. Being around the gelding made her long for her own horse. “I do so miss riding, but I was unable to bring my mare to London.”

  Sebastian shook his head. “I have received such conflicting information of you as to be left very confused. You are reported to be the half sister of Sir Richard Lightwood, you have no dowry, yet you own a mare.”

  “It is quite impertinent of you to speak so bluntly of my circumstances.” Charlotte resumed walking. She hid a smile when Sebastian lengthened his stride to keep up with her.

  “How am I to assist you in finding a husband if I do not know which gossip I am supposed to spread about you?” He raised his brows.

  “I have not yet agreed to your proposition.” But she would. It was her only chance to avoid marriage to Horace, and it would allow her to spend more time exchanging banter with Sebastian before they promised themselves to others.

  “I am confident you will.” He patted his horse.

  Charlotte sighed. “Richard is my half brother. He inherited my father’s estate upon the death of my parents, which included the burden of serving as my guardian. As for my horse, Lady Lightwood’s mare once escaped her sta
ll at an inopportune time, and since the filly’s sire was unknown, she couldn’t be sold. So she was given to me.”

  Sebastian still seemed perplexed.

  “I give you my permission to share any information about me you deem to be useful,” she said, more softly than she had intended. His proximity inhibited her ability to think coherently, but she understood that his greater experience with society made him a better judge of the correct information to spread.

  He flashed her a roguish grin. “I am gratified you trust my judgment.”

  Charlotte snapped out of her dazed state. “Gratified? Most gentlemen of my acquaintance would be horrified to be considered adept at gossiping.”

  “Ha. They might pretend to be horrified, but it is no small feat to be skilled at navigating London society. I am quite proud of my abilities.” He ran his fingers through his hair.

  “Very well. Since I have far less experience than you, I shall defer to your greater knowledge.” She turned to meet his gaze. “If I am to be of use to you, I shall also need to know which gossip to share about you with Princess Tarasova.”

  Sebastian cringed. “What have you heard?”

  She grinned, enjoying his discomfort after experiencing so much of it herself. “You are as rich as Croesus, have no living relatives aside from the dowager countess, and are expected to marry this season and produce an heir as soon as possible. You are considered the most eligible bachelor in London.”

  “I’m quite certain she’s already heard about those attributes. I’d prefer you mention my good looks and charismatic personality.” He pretended to straighten his cravat.

  “I figured it wasn’t necessary to state what seems to be so obvious. At least to you.”

  Sebastian sniffed. “I fear you will damage my confidence if you continue to flay me with your words.”

  She ignored his comment.

  “We need to talk more about you. Since you aren’t blessed with my natural ability to attract fortune hunters and title seekers, we shall have to find something with which to tempt them.” His tone was teasing. “Are you at all musical?”

  She shook her head. “I’m afraid my niece inherited all of the musical talent in my family.”

  He stopped walking and folded his arms across his chest. “Do you draw? Paint watercolors? Come, there must be something at which you excel.”

  She traced a pattern on the walking path with her foot. “I’m an avid reader, fluent in French and Italian, and well-versed in European history.”

  He widened his stance and leaned back against his horse. “Though I find that intriguing, I don’t believe it’s the sort of thing that would attract a suitable husband.”

  She let out a huff and lifted her head to meet his eyes. “I am excellent at fencing, am a more accurate shot than any of the men at Burdett, and I excel at riding astride, but I’ve been informed by Elizabeth it is not proper to discuss those skills in public.”

  Sebastian took a deep breath and pressed his palm to his chest. “I am quite terrified. She’s right to advise you not to speak of your unusual skills. No man wants to marry a woman who is more accomplished than he.”

  Charlotte could think of no proper reply. She hadn’t planned to blurt those things out, but it bothered her that he might think she was without talent.

  Sebastian nodded at a passing acquaintance, then focused on something in the distance. He pointed toward the fountain. “Is that the children’s nanny asleep on the bench over there?”

  Charlotte let out a sigh and turned in the direction he indicated. “That does explain the lack of supervision. I don’t think she’s accustomed to taking so much exercise.” She counted heads to make sure all the children were accounted for. The sun was much higher in the sky than she expected. She glanced around, noting several ladies partaking of the walking path as well as riders along Rotten Row. “I suppose it is time to take the children home, and I should be getting back so I can prepare to receive callers.”

  His eyes crinkled. “You have to prepare in order to receive callers?”

  “At the very least I shall need to repair my disheveledness, won’t I?” Charlotte bent down to pluck a few daisies. She added a few dandelions and some Queen Anne’s lace and soon had a small bouquet.

  Sebastian flashed her one of his slow, enchanting smiles that pulled all the air from her lungs. “Be certain to save the calling cards of your visitors and bring them with you to the Paddon ball.”

  “Whatever for?” she said, her voice squeaking slightly.

  Sebastian leaned forward, narrowing the distance between them. “I thought we might find time to slip away and discuss your prospects. I don’t want to throw you to the wolves. There are gentlemen among the ton that are to be avoided at all costs. I would be remiss in holding up my end of our bargain if I didn’t offer you guidance.”

  She nodded. Though he wasn’t a member of the ton, Horace was likely just the sort of man he was thinking of.

  “You will attend the ball?” He snatched one of the daisies from her bouquet and slid it into the pocket of his coat.

  Still disconcerted by his casual reference to their slipping away, Charlotte had difficulty deciding how to respond. Surely he did not mean for them to be alone together. “Um…Elizabeth has been handling all of our invitations, but I expect so. She’s quite eager to be rid of me.”

  He grasped both of her hands and gazed into her eyes. “Very well then. It is time for me to take my leave.” He drew a hand to his lips and placed a scorching kiss on the inside of her wrist, just above her glove.

  Her heart thumped unevenly as he turned to mount his horse. His breeches stretched taut across his backside, emphasizing his long, powerful legs as he swung into the saddle. She blew out a breath and reminded herself that Sebastian might be her savior, but he wasn’t an option for her. Her lone option for now was Horace, who was likely already at the house waiting for her. Waiting to aggravate her. Waiting to marry her. Unless Sebastian’s plan worked.

  Charlotte’s pace slowed as they neared the house. There was no chance of hiding her arrival with the children accompanying her. Her only hope was that Horace had already come and gone. But as soon as they burst through the front door, Elizabeth appeared from the parlor.

  “Charlotte, Horace has been waiting for some time.” She crossed her arms. “I told you not to dillydally in the park.”

  “Please convey my apologies. I will go make myself more presentable and be with you shortly.” Charlotte turned and headed upstairs, barely stifling a laugh at the startled expression on Elizabeth’s face. During the walk home, she had decided that it would be better to give the appearance of cooperating with Elizabeth than continuing to fight her. If she could convince Elizabeth that she was trustworthy, perhaps she would cease her constant meddling.

  After washing her hands and face, Charlotte did her best to repair her appearance before heading downstairs. She took a deep breath and reminded herself to trust that she would find another suitor. The heavy scent of hothouse flowers blanketed the parlor. There were at least ten bouquets of flowers set about as well as several cards sitting on a tray near the window.

  Horace scowled at her and then at the small stack of calling cards. “It seems you were quite popular at the ball last night.”

  Charlotte sank into the nearest chair, too shocked to respond to Horace’s taunt. Sebastian’s plan had definitely worked, and they hadn’t really begun yet. If only Horace and Elizabeth would disappear, she could read through the cards and find out who had called. Since that was unlikely, she focused on her plan to make them think she was cooperating.

  “You’ve had many callers this afternoon. It’s too bad you didn’t return home promptly as I advised. I had to send them all away, and there’s no telling whether they’ll bother to call again.” Elizabeth smoothed her skirt.

  Charlotte produced a fake smile for Elizabeth. “My apologies. The children were having so much fun in the park I hated to make them return.” Almost as mu
ch as she hated spending time near Horace. She turned to her suitor. “My apologies for your long wait. It was kind of you to stay.”

  Elizabeth and Horace exchanged a glance, and Charlotte busied herself with an invisible piece of lint on her skirt so they wouldn’t see her expression. There was still the hint of bruising around his eye where she had struck him. She debated whether to apologize, but surely Elizabeth would recognize she was up to something if she took things that far. Besides which, she wasn’t sure she could live with herself if she did. He was a nasty, unpleasant person and no one should have to put up with him, least of all her.

  “Princess Tarasova came by as well, though I can’t imagine why she would want to call on you. I asked her forgiveness for your absence and assured her you would be at home tomorrow.” Elizabeth’s lips pinched in disapproval.

  A lump formed in her throat. “Thank you,” she forced out. The princess was the only one she had wanted to see.

  Horace checked the clock on the mantle and widened his eyes at Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth stood. “I must go consult with Cook about the dinner she is preparing for our guests this evening. Please excuse me.”

  Charlotte clenched her jaw to keep her mouth from dropping open. It was highly improper of Elizabeth to leave her alone with Horace. Twice. The only conclusion she could draw was that they actually were trying to compromise her so she would have to marry him. She walked over to one of the vases and fiddled with the flowers while she waited for him to engage.

  He stood and touched his fingertips together. “Charlotte, I am concerned for your well-being. You are an innocent, naive girl and have no defenses against the rakes who populate the ton.”

  Charlotte nearly burst out laughing. “I thank you for your concern, but I am confident that Richard and Elizabeth are qualified to guide me.”

  He took her hand, and it required all of her willpower not to cringe at his clammy touch. “There is no need to continue to burden them with your guardianship. I am prepared to marry you now.”

  Apparently he thought that sufficed as a proposal. “I hadn’t realized I was such a burden. Still, I prefer to consider all of my options before making a decision. After all, spending the rest of your life with someone is not a decision to be taken lightly.”

 

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