Page 6 of Pining for Lord Lockhart
From anyone else, that would sound tempting in many ways, but from Lord Lockhart, it sounded like heaven. “Yes. Please. And perhaps there will be a bench, a nice, cool, secluded bench.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Just what are you suggesting, Miss Charity?”
But he leaned his head back to laugh when she opened her mouth in shock. Then she swatted him and followed him through the ballroom, with more than a few looking on, out the back doors down the stone steps, and into the gardens.
With light strung up above, and a quiet space, the cool of the night air caressing her skin, she breathed out in relief. “Thank you.”
“Of course.”
He said very little, and their feet walked in silence on the soft padding of earth beneath. They passed through an entrance of hedgerows that guarded a squared-off garden space with a fountain and benches and roses to fill any romantic inclination.
She smiled. “This is lovely.”
The bench did indeed feel cool on her skin, and Lord Lockhart was everything gentlemanly as usual. For once, his reticence to show emotion did not bother her at all. After the emotionally powerful Lord Wessex, Lord Lockhart was a soothing calm.
“I believe I’ve received some sort of odd proposal.” He looked up to the sky, his face a mask.
Chapter 2
Charity choked. She couldn’t stop herself. Everything had sucked in at such an alarming rate with his announcement that she didn’t know what to do. She coughed and coughed until in some alarm, he handed her a handkerchief and pulled her to her feet.
He patted her back a moment, as gentle as can be—she hardly felt his hand—but her coughing continued and so he became more forceful until he hit one time with more serious intent and she felt somewhat relieved.
And then she started to laugh. With throat burning, eyes watering, and handkerchief to her nose, she laughed and laughed. “Oh Lord Lockhart. Thank you.”
“You are quite welcome. I was concerned for a moment there that you might forever be coughing, but it seems you have recovered.”
“Yes, quite.” She wiped at her eyes. “But after that much needed laugh, I feel more like walking than sitting. Shall we?”
“Certainly.” He held out his arm.
With her hand resting there, she felt a sense of wonder, of being cared for, as though he offered his arm as a method of support and closeness. Perhaps the way it was originally intended.
They began at first in a circle around the small space surrounded by hedges. The sound of the water in the fountain filled the air around them and a faint scent of roses tickled her nose.
“How are the gardens coming at the castle?”
“Oh, what a happy turn of thought. They are beautiful. Lucy has turned out to be quite the horticulturist. She’s secretly studied it for years and is pestering the gardeners with plans of her own. I’ve even seen her with dirt in her fingernails.”
Lord Lockhart laughed. “Something I cannot imagine.”
“No, not the old Lucy, but this version of my sister is the happiest. She seems in every way, free.”
“That’s excellent. A love match.” He nodded.
“Yes, of course. You remember them at the wedding.”
“I certainly do.” He seemed distracted. And apparently he felt odd about something, because for a moment no one said anything, and it wasn’t those delightful quiet moments where everyone is comfortable. It was one of those moments when thoughts filled the air as shouts but were completely unintelligible.
“So, are you going to tell me about this most shocking of all proposals?”
“I’m afraid to bring it up. At last mention you almost died in a fit of coughing.”
“Never fear. I am quite recovered.” She waited, growing more nervous as his face showed no sign of humor.
“Perhaps we can sit?”
“Certainly.” She sat carefully, on the edge of the bench.
