Page 62 of A Lady's Wager
During her distraction, Mr. Travers had taken up a conversation with her father, one that seemed to carry the undertones of something of a budding friendship. Charlotte had encouraged her father to think well of him. In theory, she ought to be pleased to see this step forward. But in actuality, she was a little discouraged. Which made her realize she was a bit more inclined toward a match with Mr. Vernon. She would be bored, at times nearly out of her wits, but she would not spend the entirety of her marriage wishing for someone with a lighter disposition.
She needed to do more to encourage her father to think well of Mr. Vernon.
Just as she resolved to do so, Lord Wesley of all people stepped into the drawing room. His friend Mr. Daubney was with him. The two seemed a genuinely happy duo. That was not something she could say for the two gentlemen seated nearest her.
Lord Wesley smiled at the greeting she offered to him, and that smile set her heart fluttering a little. In her four years in London, only he had managed to do that to her. When he’d watched her as she danced the minuet, she’d not been able to prevent a blush of delight. He’d not watched her in a critical way or a possessive way, as far too many gentlemen did. He seemed to genuinely be interested in what she was doing and seemed to sincerely find her to be a graceful dancer. There was a softness in his eyes when he looked at her, mingled with the hint of laughter she so often saw there regardless of who he was speaking with. Charlotte liked that about him.
She’d known him as a very distant acquaintance until quite recently. And now she felt as if they had very suddenly become friends. Friends with a hint of something else, something she didn’t dare define.
The two newest arrivals offered their greetings and their well-wishes to her father. There were no empty chairs near where she sat, and Mr. Vernon and Mr. Travers had not been present long enough that they were likely to make their departure soon. She assumed, with an inexplicable drop of her heart, that Lord Wesley would choose to sit elsewhere in the room and converse with others, perhaps Louisa and her fiancé. Mr. Daubney did precisely that. Lord Wesley, however, hovered awkwardly nearby.
He was handsome and entertaining and had shown himself to be witty, but he had also, at times, been socially clumsy. WhenMr. Vernon would say something, he would respond in a way that leaned toward awkward. When Mr. Travers would speak, he would respond in a way that emphasized his easy manner and lightness of mood. The two gentlemen at her side were a bit flustered by it. Charlotte, however, found herself increasingly intrigued by this baron and his confusing behavior.
Why was it he so seldom participated in Society yet had of late done so with enthusiasm?
Her heart whispered that his return to social activity had something to do with her, that she had captured his interest. Perhaps a bit of his heart. But her more logical mind did not think so. He was not undertaking anything that would indicate he was courting her. More to the point, he was not “courting” her father. She had no other word for what was expected of gentlemen who wished to marry a lady, considering that a lady’s eventual husband was almost without exception chosen by her parents and most especially by her father.
Her father disliked him; he’d made that clear. Indeed, he had mentioned it more than once. She wanted to believe that was owing to the reputation of Lord Wesley’s family. Everyone knew the previous Lords Wesley had been, without exception, wastrels. But she’d never heard the same things said of him personally. And he had defended himself against her father’s insinuation otherwise.
This gentleman was intriguing, which was not something she could say for either of the gentlemen she had been hoping her father would choose.
Oh heavens.
The intrigue she’d felt for him had changed and she’d not realized it. More than curious about him, she had developed something of atendrefor him. She, who suspected this Season would be her last before Father saw to it she was married, had, for the first time since being presented, lost a bit of her heart tosomeone, and it was someone she knew her father would never choose.
JULIAN’S CARRIAGE RIDE TO THEtheater two evenings later was particularly uncomfortable. The carriage was well sprung, and the driver took it at a sedate enough clip as to not toss Julian and Franklin about. Rather, Julian’s discomfort arose from an examination of his actions in the time since discovering the wager involving himself.
They had first formulated their plan for interfering in any particularly serious courtships involving Lady Charlotte while a bit in their cups. That Julian had followed through with their plan once sober was the bit that bothered him.
There was no denying he needed the money. And as the wager was made very quietly and very privately and wasn’t bandied about, it was unlikely to cause Lady Charlotte any true unhappiness.
But he still didn’t like it.
If she truly wished to make a match with Mr. Vernon or Mr. Travers, what right had he to interfere? He didn’t mean to prevent a connection, only delay it. He’d told himself that many times and he didn’t entirely believe it. The idea of her marrying either of those two sat poorly on his mind. Neither were bad people, neither were ungentlemanly or uncouth or particularlyobnoxious people. He just couldn’t picture either of them being a truly good match for her. She was lively and interesting. She had shown herself to be in possession of wit and humor. She flitted about from group to group with an ease that spoke to one who enjoyed Society and understood it but was not unhealthily dependent upon its acceptance.
She deserved to be joyful, and he wanted that for her. He’d only truly come to know her over the last week and a half, building upon the vague acquaintance they’d had before, but already her happiness mattered to him.
And thus he was decidedly uncomfortable on his way to attend another Society event at which she might be present and at which he, if he were to continue his schemes, would be expected to interfere further.
His mind clearly along the same vein, Franklin asked, “Have you heard for certain if Vernon or Travers will be at the theater tonight?”
“I haven’t,” Julian said. “I suppose it is possible.”
“Then you are not attending as part of this mission of yours?” Franklin pressed. “I would suggest you were attending simply for your own enjoyment of the theater, but you have not exactly been socially active these last few years.”
“Careful there, you are tiptoeing terribly close to the same observation Sir Duncan made at the ball.”
“If ever I say something that comes within a close approximation of that coxcomb, I certainly hope you will tell me.”
Julian could smile a little despite his swirling thoughts.
“If you are not attending in order to interfere with a potential courtship and, if history is any indication, are likely not attending for your own amusement, then I fear I must press my question:whyare you attending this evening? You do not appear to be particularly excited about it.”
Why was he going? Without any true reason to believe Vernon or Travers would be present, his presence was hardly necessary. He had heard whispers that Lady Charlotte would be in attendance. And if he were being entirely honest, that had been a significant part of his motivation. But not the entirety of it. “I suppose some part of me is looking forward to an evening at the theater and amongst the glitterington.And I assure you, I am as shocked by this change in myself as you are.”
Franklin’s smile was one of friendship and understanding. “Not shocked so much as I am relieved. When we met our first year at Cambridge, you were a much more active and social sort of person. I saw that drift away after your father’s passing and your grandfather’s continued slide into dissipation. I never could decide if you were retreating out of grief or embarrassment.”
“Both, really. I did grieve my father’s death, though he had caused me no end of sorrow. And I was embarrassed by the person my grandfather was, at the person so many assumed I would be as a member of our family. In the end it was easier not to go about very often. If nothing else, it quelled the rumors that I was going to be a frivolous gadabout who wasted all my time and diminished resources on pursuits of shallowness.”
