Page 42 of Pining for Lord Lockhart
When they were at last in front of the group, hers crowding in—an abundance of men, the Duchess of York, and herself, she forced herself to look at Lord Lockhart.
Lord Wessex laughed. “Lockhart.”
“Wessex.” He barely spoke the name, his teeth clenched tightly together.
An awkward moment followed while they all stared at the woman at his side until she shook his arm, subtly, but noticeably.
“Oh, forgive me. This is Miss Penny.” The smile he sent her was kind but not loving. “Her mother, Mrs. Westchester.” He turned to them.
“This is Miss Charity.” The tone, the expression in his eyes, the deference he gave to Charity about stole her breath. Gone was the kindness, replaced by the intensity of their moments in the kitchen, by the love that flowed between them. She found it difficult to know how to respond. She gripped Lord Wessex’s arm as though she might faint straight away.
Once introductions were made, Lord Wessex lifted a hand. “We are off to the tea room. Would you like to join us?”
Miss Penny said yes while Lord Lockhart said no.
Which made Lord Wessex laugh. “Well then, perhaps we shall see you there.” He nodded to Charity. “Shall we?”
“Yes, please.”
She felt a bit like she was leaving Lord Lockhart on a deserted island without water to drink. But she forced herself not to turn again to see his face.
One of the lords behind them called out. “Was it just me, or was that unnecessarily awkward?”
Everyone laughed, but Lord Wessex leaned closer. “You did well. The first meeting is always the most difficult.”
She let his words settle for a moment, bringing some semblance of comfort. “Will it get easier?”
“Certainly. With every subsequent meeting and the more time you spend with me.” His eyes were kind which surprised her. But his words were incredibly arrogant. She did not know how to mesh the two into a person she understood.
But they continued on their walk toward the tea room, and in truth, the further they walked from Lord Lockhart, the better she felt.
Safe from his love, from the desperation in his expression.
But not really safe from her own love that burned just as brightly as ever, so brightly she doubted very much that she’d ever feel recovered from such an allegiance.
Chapter 11
Lord Lockhart stared at the brandy on his sideboard in the study, the only room in the house free of Mrs. Westchester and her daughter.
Was he already hiding from them? Yes, he was.
The renovations and decorating of his home had already begun. Every new drape, every new cover for his chairs, every new paint color filled his home with Charity. There was not a room in the place that did not remind him of her, that did not tug at him to call at her house, to spend time at the school with the hopes that she would be there, to fall at her feet in apology. Even his study, which as yet had no memories of Miss Penny, had snippets of Charity. And he wished to keep his sanctuary sacred.
But a knock at the door and Penny’s soft voice on the other side had him leaping to his feet. He opened the door and closed it behind him before she could step foot in his space. “Yes?”
She stepped back, eyeing him with suspicion. “Oh, I wondered if you would like some company? This morning has been so quiet, and Mother is intent on her needlepoint.” She looked around his shoulder at the closed door. “I do not wish to disturb your work, just perhaps join you, with a book?”
He nodded, slowly. Of course she would be bored. Naturally he had a responsibility to entertain his guests. His aunt had taken to hiding in her rooms. It was no secret that she was not pleased with the new developments, nor did she enjoy the company of the Westchesters.
“Perhaps we could tour a museum?”
Her face lit. “I’d like that. Before I start…” Her hand went down to her stomach. “I would enjoy some outings of some kind.”
Before she startedshowing. The words shook him. The reality of his situation hammered home even further. He knew it would behoove him to get a special license. Or to at least have the marriage banns read. They needed to marry swiftly to give them the least disfavor from Society as possible. Truly, he should probably return home.
But he couldn’t do any of those things, not yet. He didn’t have the force of will.
“If you could summon your maid, let’s pay a visit to the museum.” He’d been wanting to see a new exhibit. And he’d been most interested in a set of scrolls someone had donated. Perhaps they would let him have a look at them.
