Page 47 of Pining for Lord Lockhart
“I just don’t know how you can profess to love one but hope to be engaged to another and then flirt shamelessly with yet another.” He stared at her profile which she refused to turn.
She picked up her pace, releasing his arm.
And he didn’t attempt to match her hurrying feet.
But she was shorter than he and her small steps did not find her moving too great a distance ahead.
They continued thus through the rest of the park, Andrew attempting to make her out and she refusing to give any hints.
He didn’t know what to think of his old friend. But one thing he did know and that was he was relieved he had not yet proposed. And even if before they were feeling an urgency to rush the engagement, he was not, not anymore.
Chapter 12
Charity’s dissatisfaction grew. Her sorrow continued. And she found less and less relief from her efforts to numb the pain. Flirting with Lord Wessex, attempting to find another marriage match when her heart was not in the effort, both wore on her. The fatigue and the ache in her head at night were evidence of her unhappiness. This morning, when the ache continued, Charity knew she had to do something different. But what could a person do when they loved someone who had done such terrible things?
“Perhaps I should just return home.” Thoughts of their castle, the lovely grounds, the sea that stretched out in a great blue from the cliffs to the horizon, filled her with longing.
But no one could hear her. At least any servants busy about their tasks gave no indication. She made her way down to breakfast. She had but a moment to grab a biscuit before Lord Wessex would be there with the carriage. They were to tour the home of a visiting royal. The home had been redecorated for the lease, and tours were being offered to a limited select few.
Apparently this woman, a French princess, was on good terms with Lord Wessex.
Charity sighed. She was kidding herself if she did not know in what manner he had found himself on good terms with the woman.
She needed her sisters.
The Duchess of York was sitting at the table when Charity entered.
“Oh, I’m pleased to see you this morning.”
“Thank you. You as well.” Her words sounded flat to her own ears. She hoped she would not offend Her Grace. “How are you this morning?”
“I’ve been missing you. Your outings with Lord Wessex are such that I am not as involved in them.”
“I imagine that’s true.” She searched her hostess’ face. “Do you disapprove of him?”
The sigh in response sounded deep and heavy. And the subsequent pause felt lengthy. At last, she rested her hands on the table. “I approved of him as a friendly distraction, as someone who would surely never settle down himself.”
“And now?”
“Now, I don’t know. Is he tending toward the more serious? The loyal?” Her eyebrows lifted in such a dubious expression, that Charity could only agree with her.
“After our ride in the park, I would say he is only partially loyal.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
She’d asked herself that question often over the past day or two, and after their ride today, she knew the answer. “I don’t think it matters much to me at all as I don’t plan on tying myself to him in any way.”
The duchess nodded. And then her eyes turned sad. “I still cannot understand how such a good man could be…not as good as we thought. He was so in love. He doted on you. I was certain he was about to propose, he…” She sighed again.
“We’re talking about Lord Lockhart now.”
“Of course. And as much as we might wish to avoid the man, we have to get this school up and running.”
Charity nodded. “Have I forgotten another meeting?”
“Almost.”
“Today?”
