Page 68 of A Lady's Wager
His knock was answered quickly by the footman posted there.
“I believe I have lost my card case in the drawing room.”
The footman, one young for his post, motioned Julian inside and toward the drawing room. Generally, servants would have undertaken the search themselves, but it wasn’t a complete breach of etiquette. And the drawing room proved empty, which simplified the situation.
Julian returned to the chair he had been occupying and found, wedged between the cushion and the frame, the case he was searching for. It had most certainly slipped from his pocket. He returned it there and made to leave.
But in that very moment, Charlotte stepped into the room, pulling the door closed. She hadn’t looked at him yet and, he suspected, didn’t know he was there. He couldn’t imagine she would close the door otherwise.
“You had likely best open that again.”
She startled a little at his voice, confirming his suspicions that he had gone unnoted. “Lord Wesley. I didn’t realize you had returned.”
“My card case fell from my pocket. I was retrieving it.”
“Thank you for calling today.” She moved to where he stood as she spoke. “Though my father wasn’t present, offering no opportunity to distract him from his purpose,Ienjoyed having you here.”
He took her hand and held it gently. “I enjoyed being here. I’ve feared rejection from Society for so long that I have simply avoided nearly anything to do with theton. Feeling welcome proved a delightful change.”
“You will always be welcome with me,” she said.
He kissed her hand, closing his eyes over the lingering gesture. “I suspect your father would not agree, neither would your eventual husband.”
He felt her other hand brush against his cheek. Julian opened his eyes once more. She stood very close, watching him with the same tenderness he’d seen in her eyes again and again during that afternoon’s call. “I think my father could be brought around to seeing you as you are rather than a mere extension of your family.”
“I am far more determined that he be brought around to seeing you as a lady worthy of choosing her future and herhappiness.” He tucked their entwined hands between them. “I want that for you, Charlotte.” She offered no objection at his use of her Christian name. “I want you to be happy.”
“In this moment, Julian”—he smiled at hearing his name on her lips—“I am entirely happy.”
He bent and pressed a light kiss to her lips, his heart pounding at the tender touch. He’d have kissed her further, longer, but knew their situation was precarious for so many reasons. Far sooner than he would have liked, he stepped back and released her hand, then slipped silently from the house once more.
The day of Louisa’s wedding arrived. The ceremony was lovely. The bride was beautiful. The bride’s dearest friend was … distracted.
Charlotte knew her father would soon be selecting a husband for her, and that husband would undoubtedlynotbe Julian. She’d hardly known him a fortnight earlier, yet her heart broke again and again as she thought of building a life with anyone else.
She had long told herself that her only unwavering requirements in a future husband were that he be kind to her and not an unpleasant person. Julian was, of course, both of those things, but he was also so much more. He had a keen sense of humor, humility enough to admit he’d been wrong and misguided in his efforts to forestall her possible nuptials. He had shown himself to be intelligent and quick-witted. His long-standing friendship with Mr. Daubney indicated he was loyal and did not abandon people when it might have otherwise been convenient to do so. Defending himself against her father’s unflattering assessment, but managing the thing without beingharsh or hurtful, showed compassion and patience, mingled with an unwillingness to be run roughshod over. That was a rare combination.
And he kissed wonderfully.
Charlotte fanned herself a bit as the carriage rolled back toward home after the wedding breakfast. The memory of Julian’s lips pressed softly to hers flitted through her mind with shocking regularity, and every time it did, her cheeks heated. It had been a fleeting kiss, so brief and light that she’d have expected to be far less impressed than she actually was. Instead of disappointment at the briefness of the moment, she found herself longing for him to kiss her again.
“Mr. and Mrs. Selby seemed pleased,” Father said from the other side of the carriage. “And well they might be. Mr. Granville is a respected gentleman with income enough. A fine catch for their daughter.”
“And how fortunate the new Mrs. Granville is that she and her new husband are truly happy in each other’s company,” Charlotte added. “That is not always the case.”
Father shook his head slowly. “No, it is not.”
“Were you and Mother pleased with your marriage?” she asked. “I’m afraid I have very few memories of her, none of which answer that question.”
He nodded. “We were, after a time.”
After a time.It was not an enthusiastic answer nor was it encouraging in the moment. She could, “after a time,” learn to be pleased with either of the gentlemen she had been hoping her father would choose. She could be content. It was all she had ever aimed for, all she’d felt herself able to require in a match.
But that felt utterly unsatisfying now.
She wanted someone who made her heart flutter. Someone who could, with a single kiss, make her blush for days. Someonewho wanted her to be truly happy. Not merely pleased. Not merely content. Happy.
Loved.
