Page 60 of A Lady's Wager
Sir Duncan’s attempts at blackening Julian’s name did not appear to be fully hitting their mark, something for which Julian was both grateful and surprised. His family’s reputation was not pristine, and his avoidance of Society had not particularly endeared him to theton.
“And I was riding in the park this morning with my father.” Lady Charlotte unexpectedly entered the discussion. “I saw you, Sir Duncan, part ways with these two gentlemen. You went in opposite directions after having conversed for a few moments while on horseback. I cannot imagine what race you are alluding to, as I saw nothing of that nature occur.”
“There was a race, I assure you.” Sir Duncan spoke through tight teeth but kept his genteel air.
“Are you calling Lady Charlotte’s honesty into question?” Julia asked quietly, slowly, and with emphasis. A gentleman did not speak so disparagingly of a lady in public.
Sir Duncan was quick to deny that possibility. All who were listening seemed to more or less accept his denial, though many eyed him with just enough doubt that no one with any degree of social prowess would pursue the previous line of discussion. Sir Duncan was quick to offer his apologies to Lady Charlotte, who insisted his comments had not been injurious in any way.
Sir Duncan was quick to depart. The crowd around them returned to their conversations as well.
“I’ve been curious since this morning about what did happen at Hyde Park,” Lady Charlotte said quietly. “Though I was not dishonest in my description of what I saw, I am still not entirely convinced that what I saw wasn’t itself something of a deception.”
Julian allowed a grin. “It was a rather unusual situation,” he acknowledged. “Sir Duncan was making a nuisance of himself and issued a challenge that he likely thought we were too proud to turn down. But as neither Mr. Daubney nor I had any desire to engage in a horse race this morning simply because Sir Duncan spoke ill of us, we didn’t feel it necessary to take the bait.”
“Did you tell him that?”
Julian pressed a hand dramatically to his heart. “And devastate the poor fragile man? Of course not. We’re not heartless!”
A smile of pure amusement spread slowly across the lady’s face. Julian, who had already been quite intrigued by her, found himself utterly mesmerized.
“I daresay he crowed quite loudly upon his victory for at least one or two seconds,” Franklin said, pretending to be quiteserious. “Until he realized he was in a race against himself and as such was both the victor and the loser.”
Lady Charlotte’s smile remained lovely and beautiful as ever, but something in her eyes had changed—not on account of Franklin or what he had said, neither did she seem to be responding to Julian in any way. Indeed, her attention had shifted to someone approaching from nearby.
Julian looked that way and saw Lord Tarrant approaching with Mr. Travers, whom Julian had known at Cambridge.
Greetings were exchanged. Mr. Travers did not smile but also did not seem particularly unhappy. He’d always been almost unfailingly somber but wasn’t actually a gloomy person. He was simply extremelyserious. That didn’t appear to have changed.
“We are well met, Mr. Travers,” Lady Charlotte said. “Was this a coincidence, or were you hoping to see us tonight?” The question wasn’t quite flirtatious, but there was an earnestness to it that told Julian she wished for Mr. Travers to remain, to speak with them, to perhaps make a good impression.
It seemed Julian had quite easily discovered yet another possible suitor he was meant to distract. Blast it all, he would far rather stand about attempting to make Lady Charlotte smile again. He couldn’t remember the last time a lady had captured his attention so quickly and so entirely. That made the connection between her and himself, found quite by accident in the betting book of his club, all the more strange.
In his momentary distraction he had missed the conversation continuing around him. Only by quick observation and deduction did he realize Mr. Travers had secured Lady Charlotte’s hand for the next set. A failure already. Being seen dancing, especially two people who made a handsome couple—and he suspected these two would—might very well begin the sort of rumors Julian would rather delay. There’d be whispers and those whispers, once they reached the earl, might turn histhoughts to the idea of Lady Charlotte and Mr. Travers making a match.
Something very akin to panic began to slowly set in. It was the matter of £1000, he told himself. The money, not anything so ridiculous as jealousy or disappointment at not being the one to have secured her hand for a dance or having been outmaneuvered by someone who didn’t even know they were engaged in battle.
Mr. Travers accompanied Lady Charlotte to their place amongst the dancers preparing to perform a minuet. Julian likely could have secured a partner, but he would feel blasted guilty asking a lady to dance, only to neglect her whilst attempting to prevent any degree of closeness to grow between another couple. The best thing he could do was position himself such that he could catch Lady Charlotte’s eye now and then and make her curious as to what he was thinking. It was an odd approach but also the only one he thought might work, since distracting Mr. Travers seemed unlikely. The gentleman’s focus was as unwavering as his solemnity.
Julian wandered a bit as the elegant dance was undertaken. A few times, he did indeed catch Lady Charlotte’s eye. He would lift an eyebrow the tiniest bit and smile. Once, he let that smile turn a touch flirtatious, and Lady Charlotte blushed. Heaven help him, he liked that.
She was returned to her father not long before Julian’s footsteps took him past the place where the earl and his daughter stood.
“You are a very skilled dancer, Lady Charlotte,” he offered as he came up to her side.
“Though I risk sounding horribly arrogant, I have been told so before,” she said.
“If Mr. Travers is one of those making that very accurate observation, I sincerely hope he did so in the most glowingterms,” Julian said, exaggerating his words so she would know he was jesting.
Her smile reappeared in an instant. “His is not the most flowery of vocabularies nor the most animated of countenances, but he’s a good gentleman, and I do enjoy his company.”
“I’m pleased to hear it,” Julian said, a remark which clearly surprised her. Why would it surprise her? He’d teased a little about her taciturn partner, but he didn’t think he’d given any indication that he disliked Mr. Travers or wished Lady Charlotte to be unhappy. “I knew Mr. Travers at Cambridge, and I liked him then. Our dispositions are not overly similar but not so disparate that I am unable to see the goodness in him.” It was an honest evaluation, one he was almost surprised to hear himself give. He was rewarded with a look of approval in her eyes, eyes he was beginning to realize were a most beguiling shade of golden brown.
“What do you suppose Mr. Travers would have to say about you?” Lady Charlotte asked. Many people who hinted at evaluations of his character did so with references to his father and grandfather and great-grandfather and any number of his family members who had been less than the people they ought to have been. Lady Charlotte seemed to be genuinely curious about Julian himself rather than yet another Lord Wesley.
“I would hope he would say that while I do sometimes jest when I ought to be a bit more serious, I am not a truly frivolous person, that I am good company, and that I am not entirely witless.”
It was the earl who answered that declaration. “I’ve never known a Lord Wesley who could be described in glowing terms, and I have known several.”
