Most certainly they would since he seemed to follow Ariel about in the evenings.
“Good day, Mr. Torrance. It was really lovely to see you,” Charlotte said just as he turned and made his way back across the street, dodging carriages and horses alike to return to his sister’s side.
Mr. Warren pulled her forward before she was ready to take a step and she stumbled into his side. He didn’t apologize for his rough handling, just carried on as though he didn’t notice her body colliding into his.
When they reached the polished mahogany counter, he ordered a lime ice for her—did he do so because he knew she secretly hated the tart flavor?—and a bergamot water ice for himself.
“Miss Camden, which is your preference?” he asked, and Charlotte wanted to stamp her heeled shoe on his foot for not asking her what she liked, as well. What point was he trying to prove?
Charlotte hoped that Genny could see the fiery rage clear in her gaze; surely it was obvious that he was intentionally treating her as inferior. There was no denying that Mr. Warren was high-handed only when it came to her.
“I think I might like the muscadine ice.” Her cousin truly did love her. Muscadine—which was grapelike in flavor—was Charlotte’s favorite ice flavor, and she knew that Genny didn’t care for ices at all.
“Excellent choice, madam.”
Their order was confirmed and the man behind the counter told them that he would find them in the park once the ices were ready. Charlotte found herself free of Mr. Warren’s arm as he dug into his vest pocket to retrieve a few coins to pay for their treat.
Charlotte didn’t waste the opportunity of being free of him and quickly threaded her arm through Genny’s. Just because she was set to marry him in the fall didn’t mean he had the right to act as though he had any say over her actions now. Goodness, she certainly hoped he didn’t mean to dictate every part of her life when they—
She stopped that thought.
She would stop their marriage. And if the Marquess of Castleigh could be won to her favor, she’d have no trouble at all ending the engagement before summer concluded.
“Wherever shall we find a seat?” Charlotte asked, hoping they would stand in the crowd only long enough to eat their ices before he took her and Genny home.
Gunter’s was positively overflowing and there wasn’t a seat to be found. That was why patrons sat out on the lawn across from the ice shop. They’d have to do the same, though she supposed they could eat in the carriage.
“We’ll sit on the grass.” Mr. Warren turned and glanced at both their dresses. Charlotte wore sunny yellow muslin; Genny had opted, as she often did, for navy blue. “The ground seems to have dried out so it shouldn’t damage your dresses any.”
Finding a stretch of grass in the sun, Mr. Warren told them both to wait a moment so he could retrieve a blanket from his carriage. It was the first gentlemanly behavior he’d shown her all day—perhaps it was for Genny’s benefit.
The moment he left, Charlotte started in on her cousin. “Did you see what he did? He made my decision without consulting me. As though he already has control over what I do, what I say, and how I should act. The man thrives on putting me down and making sure I’m at my wit’s end.” Charlotte pressed her back against an elm tree and suppressed the urge to cross her arms over her chest and sulk her complete and utter annoyance.
“When it’s decided that you’ll marry before you have had the opportunity to really get to know someone, it creates hurdles you must triumph over. You’re a smart woman, Charlotte. I know you can sway Mr. Warren to your favor as you do your hundred beaux at every event.”
“Mr. Warren does not want to be charmed.”
“Perhaps not, but he is often cross with you because you constantly challenge his authority.”
Her cousin paused, eyeing the crowd around them. Did she see someone of interest? Charlotte glanced over the faces, seeing many acquaintances, and hesitated …
Was that the marquess?
Chapter 6
Gunter’s offers the best grounds for fodder on various members of the ton. You merely need to order one of the shop’s specialties, find a nice seat under the shade of a tall tree on the park lawn, and watch everyone around. A significant glance—sometimes even a passing caress—may be witnessed. And what salaciousness was revealed to me on this unusually hot May afternoon.
A greeting between a young lady freshly introduced to society and a rake with too many years’ experience to count; a humble patron of virtue soon to be exposed as a charlatan; a man of decency engaged in an illicit affair that will do more damage than he can anticipate to the woman he pleasures. Are your ears burning for me to reveal what I’ve only started to uncover? Soon, dear readers, soon you’ll learn everything I know.
—The Mayfair Chronicles, May 1846
The marquess was here and Charlotte was positive her cousin hadn’t seen him for she would have made some scathing remark about his character. She felt suddenly light-headed as the blood pounded heavily through her veins, and breathing became difficult as her heart skipped at a frantic, excited pace. Never had she felt so attuned to another person.
The first genuine smile of the day tilted up her lips. She would not reveal his presence to Genny. The letter she had addressed to him and hidden in her bodice before they’d left the house burned against her breast. She had been right to bring the letter with her, instead of having her maid deliver it directly into his hands.
The marquess was with another woman and two children. Could those be the very ones he’d mentioned to her? The girl had blonde hair braided on either side of her round face. A straw hat with periwinkle ribbons blew gently in the breeze; she looked to be about ten, but it was difficult to ascertain at this distance. The boy was dark-haired, and his back was to her so all she could tell was that he was younger than the girl, and his hair was dark and unruly like his father’s. There was no doubt in her mind that both children were likely as striking as their father.
Charlotte tapped her finger to her chin as she scrutinized the woman. Who was she? Definitely a relation—they shared many of the same features, from their dark hair and light eyes to their slender forms.
She could only make out the marquess’s profile when he turned to address one of the children and the woman he sat with. To Charlotte, he looked more relaxed—different, almost—when surrounded by his family. More so than when he was charming half a dozen ladies in any given drawing room. It was almost as though he allowed himself to be less refined. More of his true self and not the profligate lord society expected of him. How she could make that out from across the park, she had no idea.
Now she had to find a way to give him the letter, and she must do so before Mr. Warren came back with the blanket.
Charlotte’s eyes flitted from patron to patron, hoping to see someone familiar. And wouldn’t luck have it that Lady Hargrove stood not ten feet away from the marquess. A most perfect opportunity had just presented itself and she’d not waste what could be her only chance to see the marquess today.
“Oh, look, Genny.” Charlotte stood on her toes and nodded her head in the direction of Lady Hargrove. She was conversing with Mr. Torrance. “I must offer a hallo. It would be rude not to do so.”
“Very true.” Genny sighed. “We definitely need to pay our respects to Lady Hargrove. I’ll wait here for Mr. Warren. It wouldn’t do for him to think we’d wandered off without him.”
“I promise to be quick.” She fluttered her lashes at her cousin. “I really wouldn’t want Mr. Warren to feel put out.”
“That gleam in your eyes says otherwise.”
There was no censure in her cousin’s comment, only a hint of laughter. Maybe she, too, was sick to death of the less than civil exchanges between Charlotte and Mr. Warren.
She kissed her cousin’s cheek. “I won’t be overlong.”
Charlotte felt a strong skip in her heart to have this opportunity. Weaving her way through the guests, she curtsied to Lady
Hargrove when she was close enough to converse with the older woman.
“Good day to you, my lady.” She nodded to Mr. Torrance. “And a pleasure to see you again so soon.”
“Dearest.” Lady Hargrove placed a hand on each of Charlotte’s arms and gave them a gentle squeeze as she pulled her in for a brief hug. “What brings you to Gunter’s? Tea or ices?”
“Ices, of course. Mr. Warren is treating us.”
Lady Hargrove glanced over Charlotte’s shoulder to see where her companion was. “How nice. I see him retrieving a blanket. It’ll be a lovely picnic with the weather finally cooperating today.”
Charlotte turned and noted that he was indeed carrying a small blanket toward Genny. She had but a few moments before she knew he would become suspicious and search her out. And she wanted no additional eyes on her as she completed her errand.
“You could join us for a spell,” Charlotte offered, knowing they would refuse.
“I mustn’t, dear. I’m headed home to retrieve Ariel from her piano lesson, then over to the confectionary to order some chocolate desserts for our dinner party next week.”
“Well, I wish you a successful afternoon, then.” She ducked her head, knowing it was now time to hand over the letter to the marquess. “Mr. Torrance. Lady Hargrove, I wish you both a wonderful day.”
“You, too, my lady,” Mr. Torrance said with a tip of his hat.
“I will see you tonight, child,” Lady Hargrove said with an affectionate squeeze of her hand.
Charlotte lifted her skirts slightly so she could turn easily, and made her way toward the marquess. Glancing across the lawn, she saw that Mr. Warren had just made it back to her cousin’s side, saying something cordial that made Genny smile. Why was he so nice to everyone but her?
On reaching the area where the marquess sat with his family, she said, “Good day, my lord.”
He turned to gaze up at her. His expression was soft as he stood to greet her properly.
“I simply had to stop and say hallo when I noticed you from the corner of my eye. I was just conversing with Lady Hargrove.”
She tucked her hand into the top of her bodice and pulled out the folded letter she’d had the sense to tuck away. The marquess noted the action, for his eyes dropped to her bosom and then back to gaze upon her face with a knowing smile that was so deliciously wicked she wanted to reciprocate with some sort of naughty behavior. Their setting and the children stopped her from doing anything rash.
Too low for anyone but her to hear, he said, “You play a dangerous game.”
She looked at him through her lashes, her expression demure and inviting. “It’s the small things in life that keep me happy.”
He took her hand, pressed his lips against her knuckles, and palmed the letter from her hold.
“You should return to your cousin before she sees that you have found me.”
“I am safe for a moment more while they set up the blanket.” She nibbled at her bottom lip and finally met his fiery gaze. She wasn’t sure what else to say, and wished she could converse with him for the rest of the afternoon instead of stodgy Mr. Warren. Another time perhaps.
“I love a woman who eschews the rules of society.”
She felt her cheeks pinken under his regard. “Rules are made to be broken, my lord. But you are right, I must return to my party.”
He looked over her shoulder, watching out for her even now. It was obvious the marquess didn’t want Charlotte to be discovered, which surprised her considering his reputation.
“I’ll bid you adieu,” he said.
She fingered the lace edge of her sleeve, regretting that her interlude with him was so short. “What a shame it is that we can’t have a few more moments without anyone noticing. I do hope to see you soon, my lord.”
“Likewise.”
“I look forward to your correspondence,” she said as she turned away from him.
She hoped that he would turn and sit facing his family before Genny could take note of his presence. However, her cousin didn’t turn to look for her until Charlotte was nearly upon them. Mr. Warren held out his hand for her to take, so he could assist in seating her.
“Thank you, Mr. Warren.” Her sudden civility had him halting and eyeing her quizzically; in fact, he seemed momentarily taken aback.
Before he could comment, his gaze strayed behind her. “Our ices have arrived.”
Mr. Warren took each glass from the shopkeeper and handed one to Charlotte and one to Genny. Once he had his in hand, he sat across from Charlotte, resting his back against the tree trunk, stretching his legs out in repose. Charlotte had never seen him so relaxed since they had been introduced a month ago. Perhaps he was warming to her just as Genny said he would. She nearly snorted at the ridiculous thought.
“I’ve been looking forward to indulging in ices since you suggested it,” Charlotte said.
Genny looked at her with distrust gleaming in her eyes. Had Charlotte sounded far too chipper? She was in high spirits. Her plan was finally set in motion now that her letter was delivered to the marquess.
“I have been looking forward to this, too,” Genny said. “But now I wonder if we could switch ices. I’m craving something a little more tart.”
There were no words to express how appreciative Charlotte was. “I’d be delighted.” As they switched glasses, Charlotte smiled sweetly at Mr. Warren. “This is a nice change from our usual routine.”
“I’ll be sure to offer more variety in the future, Lady Charlotte.”
“I had hoped you would join us at the opera, Mr. Warren,” Genny said.
Charlotte couldn’t care less about Mr. Warren’s attendance and wondered briefly if the marquess would be there.
“We will be seated with the Carletons,” Charlotte added, hoping he disliked them as much as her father seemed to.
“I have already said that I dislike opera.”
Perfect, she thought with another genuine smile, because she had given the marquess her itinerary for the coming week.
“That’s a pity. I do love the stage in any shape or form.” If she married him, she had a suspicion that he’d ban such frivolous activities. “Will we see you at any engagements this week?”
“None, I’m afraid. I need to attend to business matters.” His gaze veered off and seemed to be caught by someone in the crowd behind her.
Charlotte wanted to turn and see what had so thoroughly snagged his attention, but she couldn’t do so without being obvious. Was he looking at the marquess? She’d purposely put her back to his party so she wasn’t tempted to look over at his group. Would Mr. Warren have heard that she’d danced with the marquess at the duchess’s grand ball?
“Such a shame we won’t see more of you, Mr. Warren,” Genny said. She, too, noticed that his gaze was focused elsewhere.
When he returned his attention to Charlotte, his eyes pierced right through her. There was a flash of …
Longing?
No, it couldn’t be.
Whatever it was, it was not directed at her, for the brief vulnerability vanished and he was back to his usual annoying self. “We’ll have our usual ride through the park this week. We must keep up appearances.”
“You are intentionally short to me.” She couldn’t stop the words from coming any more than she could stop her hand from fisting the spoon in her hand.
“Charlotte!” Her cousin gasped.
She stared at her cousin, ready to retaliate against her, but blinked her eyes, took in a sharp breath, and pasted a smile on her face. At least she held back from flinging the contents of her glass all over Mr. Warren’s smug expression. Why did he enjoy goading her so much? What had she ever done to him to incite such disdain, such dislike? Charlotte was well loved by everyone she knew—except him, of course.
“I’ll not pretend to like you, Mr. Warren. My father seems intent on our match. I can only assume it’s for political reasons. Whatever reason you have for agreeing to it, I wish you would simply cease. I
t would save us both a lot of trouble.”
“My lady,” he said, rubbing the side of his face with his hand. “I didn’t mean to give you that impression. This is hardly an appropriate conversation to be having, so let us leave now and start off on a better note the next time we see each other.”
He stood, took Genny’s hand and lifted her to her feet, and held his other hand out to Charlotte. There was an air of concession about him. His shoulders weren’t held back as rigidly as they normally were, and there was a kindness in his expression that wasn’t usually present—although she did not trust it.
Nor would she stoop so low as to take his hand for assistance. He leaned over at her refusal and took her elbow regardless.
He whispered in her ear, “It’ll do you well to remember that I hold all the cards in this courtship. Do not displease me or make a buffoon out of me again.”
She yanked her elbow away and glared at him. “You would do well to remember that my will cannot be trampled by your bad temper.”
She bustled past him and headed toward the carriage, forcing her cousin to catch up while Mr. Warren went about collecting their things and having someone take their ice glasses away.
Before she could climb into the carriage by herself, Mr. Warren set his hands about her waist and lifted her inside. She turned to further reprimand him on his conduct, but he was already walking around the back of the carriage to find his way to his own seat.
She glanced at the crowd around them. The only person to note their leaving seemed to be the marquess. His brows were drawn low and one fist curled around his stylish cane so hard his knuckles had turned white. He watched her leave as his children helped the young woman he sat with fold their blanket.
Was he so attuned to her now that he worried for her welfare? Had he seen all that had transpired between her and Mr. Warren? She hoped he had. It would do him well to be pushed into helping her. Her gaze snapped away from the marquess’s as the horses jolted forward with a quick command from Mr. Warren.
* * *
“I’m sorry you saw him here. I should have waited till he left before packing up our picnic items.” Bea cupped her hand around Tristan’s arm as she spoke quietly enough that Ronnie and Rowan and others around them couldn’t hear what she said. “Let it alone, Tristan. You’ll accomplish nothing if you confront him here.”
Midnight Temptations With a Forbidden Lord Page 7
