Page 57 of A Lady's Wager
“I do hope we will see you again soon,” Charlotte said to him.
“I would like that as well,” Mr. Vernon said. He turned to her father and dipped a gracious bow. “Tell me of any books you find that you enjoy.”
“I will,” her father said.
A friendly interaction. A common interest. That was promising. Whether or not Mr. Vernon made anything beyond a vague impression, she didn’t know.
“And I hope we shall see each other again also,” Lord Wesley said, executing a bow of his own.
“It is a possibility,” was the extent of her father’s response. He wasn’t rude or truly dismissive, but there was a stiffness to his posture and his demeanor that was unexpected. As far as she knew, he and Lord Wesley had few interactions and no true history. Indeed, she didn’t think she’d ever heard her father even mention him except for the occasional offhand comment made in passing, such as discussing who was present at a particular horse race or gentlemen’s club or in attendance at Parliament. Yet she couldn’t help but feel that her father was displeased with him beyond what could be explained by the strange evening they had just passed.
“Thank you for your company this evening, Lady Charlotte,” Lord Wesley said. “It was a pleasure as always.” His words of farewell, marked with kindness, went beyond the rote words of parting, but not in a way that was overly familiar. Indeed, if not for her father’s stiff treatment of him, she might have felt as though they had, in some strange way, struck up something of a friendship during the awkward evening.
Why did he have to capture her attention so thoroughly when he was nearby? Where Mr. Vernon was a bit dull yet perfectly acceptable, Lord Wesley was acceptable and worryingly intriguing.
She couldn’t manage to say anything as she watched him walk away. She didn’t dare. He was not anywhere on the list of suitors she felt there was any chance of her father accepting. Her focus needed to be on whittling down that list to the few acceptable to her.
It was while watching him that her eyes fell on Sir Duncan. She had managed to avoid him all that evening, only to see him out of the corner of her eye now. He, thankfully, was on his way out and she would not need to navigate through an interaction.
No matter the distracting hair and eyes and smile and scent and humor of her encounter with Lord Wesley, she needed toremain focused. If she was not careful to avoid distraction, she might find herself inextricably tied to someone like Sir Duncan.
Misery was a far worse outcome than boredom.
FOR THE FIRST TIME INrecent memory, Julian had deeply enjoyed time spent at a Society function. He didn’t consider himself unsociable or disinclined to like gatherings. He had found much in Society to keep his interest in the years since finishing his schooling. But during that Season, his first since completing his period of mourning for his grandfather, there’d not seemed to be a true place for him in London.
His family’s reputation had brought him to the attention of those with whom he didn’t care to keep company. And those whose company he felt he would have enjoyed kept their distance on account of his family’s reputation. Perhaps it was not truly boredom he’d struggled with, but loneliness.
It was rather early the next morning when he ventured out on his reliable but aging horse. Keeping a horse was a costly indulgence, but he’d not yet been required to deprive himself of it.
The mornings were his favorite time to jaunt to Hyde Park. It wasn’t nearly as busy as during the late afternoon and evening. During the morning hours, he could take advantage of the relative emptiness and undertake a risk of a ride at a more invigorating pace. Or, on those mornings when Franklin joinedhim there, enjoy a conversation without struggling to be heard over the crush of people and carriages.
Though a bit tired from having been out late, he rode alongside Franklin, discussing the events of the evening before.
“You stationed yourself behind her chair all evening?” Franklin repeated what Julian had just told him. “I believe the goal here is to distract from potential courtships, not accidentally entangle yourself in one.”
Julian shook his head. “There is nothing in the arrangement that would have given anyone the impression that I was courting her or that she was hoping I was. If anything, people will be confused that I was present at the gathering at all.”
“As confused as they would be if Lady Charlotte was actually giving thought to the possibility of a connection with Mr. Vernon?”
Julian shook his head. “There is a mismatched couple if ever I’ve seen one, and I have most certainly seen plenty.”
They kept their horses to a very sedate walk, having undertaken a bit brisker walk earlier.
“Vernon is a decent sort, but he is something of a dullard.” Julian winced a little at hearing himself make so judgmental an observation. He had been the recipient of misjudgment in his life, people deciding who and what he was based on his family. He didn’t care to be the one doing that to others.
“I don’t know her overly well”,” Franklin said, “but what I do know of Lady Charlotte makes me think she is not herself a dullard.”
“That is the impression I have as well. If anything, she seems to work very hard at keeping what appears to be an active mind calm and quiet enough to endure the tedium of sometimes overly sedate gatherings.”
“What happened that you are not telling me about?” Franklin glanced away from the road at Julian.
“Nothing specific that I can point to,” Julian acknowledged. “More an impression. I inserted myself into the very mundane conversations that Mr. Vernon continually introduced, making certain my comments were neither insulting nor arrogant nor truly disruptive. Our goal is, after all, awkwardness. I feel that I managed that.” He hated that he was in need of £1000 enough to dictate his behavior to such an extent. But there was no point denying his finances were not such as would pass muster.
“What impact did your awkwardness have?” Franklin asked.
“Rather than simply sensing the clumsiness of my company, she seemed to realize rather quickly that there was something odd in my behavior. There was such a look of intelligence in her eyes, as if I were a very complicated puzzle that she was interested in and capable of solving. Now and then, when I would make odd comments, a flash of humor would cross her expression. Mr. Vernon never seemed to bring anything to her expression other than … boredom.”
“You seem to have taken quite an interest in whether or not Lady Charlotte’s future is a happy one.”
