Page 44 of Pining for Lord Lockhart
His eyes shot to hers. “Do you not approve of the changes?”
“No, they’re perfect. Am I to think of her whenever we are in London?”
He would be thinking of her whenever they were anywhere.
And the wrongness of his situation started to tug at him. What was right here? To marry and pine for another as they would both do? To not marry and allow a friend to be ruined?
Her voice interrupted his thoughts. “Many a person marries for reasons other than love. And surely they have their heart tugged in other directions. We shall not be so different from them.”
“Not at all different I imagine.”
“Except there will be a child.”
A child that wasn’t his. If it was a son, was this person to be his heir? Could he love the little person as it deserved to be?
“You say the most difficult things when we are surrounded by others and I cannot respond.”
“I know. Perhaps I’m afraid to hear what you would say if we were alone and you were free to speak your mind.”
Her hand rested on his forearm but he received no pleasure in it. Still, they had been friends for many years. “Remember the tree that I always bested you at climbing?”
“Oh no. We are not going to let that stand. I bested you. For years. One time. One tiny time, I stumbled and you raced to the top first.”
“But it was the final time. And therefore stands as the winning moment.”
“We shall have to climb it again. I see that only then will you desist in claiming such a preposterous win.”
He laughed. It felt good to come to a meeting point about their earlier friendship. Her mother was right. The strength of that friendship might help them to manage the other difficulties that were bound to come.
He patted her hand in appreciation for those memories.
And then a laugh interrupted his momentary pleasantries.
Herlaugh.
Charity entered the same room as they from the opposite corner. She was even more beautiful than the last time he’d seen her. She’d taken to dressing exquisitely all the time instead of just when the duchess made her. And the effect was…nothing short of dazzling. Everyone in the room turned to her. And most eyes stayed put, following her as she and Lord Wessex approached the first painting.
Suddenly, all Andrew wanted was to hear her thoughts on the artist’s representation. He wanted to hear her thoughts on all things. She always had a thought. She was never bent on hiding them, and he missed every clever and outrageous thing she was bound to say.
Even though Miss Penny stiffened beside him, he moved them quickly closer with the hope that he might hear some of her cleverness.
They arrived close enough for him to hear her laugh, a real sound, like she was enjoying herself. Her hand rested on Lord Wessex’s arm. They stood close. And he looked oddly attentive. Gone were his rakish attentions replaced more by…respect.
He regretted his actions immediately and wished to be as far from them as possible.
Lord Wessex nodded. “And this one looks to be similar to his others in color, but I can’t help but think he is attempting something more right here.” He pointed to something on the painting. Andrew leaned to the side to have a better view.
Penny huffed beside him. She crossed her arms, staring at him.
He whispered, “I’m interested in this painting.”
“And the people standing in front of it.”
“Yes,” he told her unabashedly. “I’m interested in what they have to say.”
Charity turned eyes up to Lord Wessex’s that looked to hold equal respect. “I think perhaps this use of light here and this cluster of peasants near is representing a new beginning?” Her gaze flickered to Andrew and away, the briefest motion, but enough for him to want to clutch at his heart and turn away. It entered straight inside. A new beginning. Without him. His beginning already begun with Miss Penny. His and Charity’s lives diverging from each other, not quite gone, but almost. What would he do about it? Would he stand helplessly by?
Charity and Lord Wessex turned the other direction and stopped in front of the next painting. And all Andrew could do was watch in agony as he lost her.
