Page 31 of Pining for Lord Lockhart
“Thank you.” With a mind full of kissing and Lord Lockhart and the many lords that His Grace wished her to know, Charity stood, slipped a reticule and fan over her wrist and stepped out the door, making wild attempts to school her expression and keep the blush from her face.
For the second time that Season, was she to attend a ball with simply the hope that she would converse with men? No ulterior motives in mind? No agenda?
She most certainly was, and she hardly knew herself.
But how could she know herself when she was suddenly so enamored with one man, one life outside her own. The day started and ended with thoughts of Lord Lockhart, and went from thinking him equally drawn to her and then only passably interested all in the same day, rotating between the two in such a wagon ride of bumps of emotion that she didn’t know what more to do with herself on the subject. The duke’s advice seemed more appropriate now than ever for her, for if she couldn’t have Lord Lockhart, she would needsomeone. Somehow, this hole in her heart would have to be filled, lest she be miserable all her days.
When she descended the stairs, the duke’s expression of approval was surprisingly gratifying. Where she’d only previously viewed her appearance as a paltry substitute for the benefits of her mind and what she could do in the world, she now considered that it too might be something of value.
“You look well, my dear.” Her Grace patted her cheek.
“Thank you.”
The duke offered his arms to them both, and Charity felt precious indeed as she was escorted to the carriage and helped up inside. Two activities that had happened again and again, actions she often felt were a useless extra step to simply loading a carriage, now felt to be a powerful expression of caring.
They arrived at Almack’s to the concluding advice from Her Grace along with a list of lords whom the duke wished for her to know better.
Charity’s head spun. She had thought organizing baskets for the poor was a lot of work. This dizzying amount of information to remember compared in every way to those such activities.
As they were about to enter, the duchess whispered close. “Consider that who you marry opens doors of influence.”
And with those words, Charity recognized just how important marrying well might be for her future ability to make a difference forever. Those words, combined with all previous conversation, motivated Charity to commit to take greater care of her own future marriage.
And with that thought, she determined to discover just how interested Lord Lockhart was in her, no matter what means became necessary.
Chapter 8
Lord Lockhart stepped into an overly large crush at Almack’s. Why had he decided to come? What motivated this move into a previously unplanned activity? Going somewhere tonight when he’d been looking forward to a book by the fire?
A note from the Duchess of York with three words written on it. “Come to Almack’s.”
And so here he was.
Charity.
Confused as to why the note had come from the duchess, he stepped into the assembly room. People crowded in closer on all sides. How did people expect to converse at all in such a crush? They didn’t quite jostle him. Such a thing as jostling seemed beneath them all, but they had precious little space in between them, and he wanted nothing more than to stretch his arms up and all around him. Confound them, why again must they attend Almack’s? He looked for Charity. Perhaps he could convince her that a walk outside would be just the thing.
A cluster of men in the corner made him laugh. He’d found her. If she was in high form on one of her crusades, perhaps his evening wouldn’t be a wash after all. He’d listen for the subject and join her. Between the two of them, they could spread the word.
He still hadn’t seen her, but as he got closer, her laugh rang out, and he stepped nearer. The group laughed uproariously. And then Lord Kenworthy tilted his head forward, and Andrew caught sight of Charity.
Her cheeks aglow, her eyes on fire, her mouth opened and free in a lovely easy smile. And everyone around her was captivated.
Including Andrew.
His feet would not move. His thoughts stopped. And his tongue went so dry he didn’t think he’d ever use it again. Who was this Athena? She was easily the most beautiful woman in the room, the most beautiful he’d ever seen. He was equal parts completely beguiled by her and wishing for his cloak to lay across her shoulders.
Lord Wessex leaned closer to her, whispering something in her ear that brought a brighter pink to her cheeks. The others said something to razz her.
Andrew stepped closer.
Her mellow voice reached him, sending bolts of something partly pleasant partly uncomfortable down to his feet.
“Oh, Lord Wessex. You are just toying with me. We all know it.” She swatted at him with her fan.
“Tell us your latest thoughts on Napoleon,” Lord Kenworthy called out.
Andrew bristled. Was he making fun of her? But as he looked closer, he thought not. The men were fascinated with Charity.
