Page 17 of One Scandal Too Many
“I am,” Georgina replied.
They started down the path together, leaving Jaclyn and Charlotte alone with the other two gentlemen. She sighed. There was no avoiding this situation any longer. She packed up the picnic basket and folded the quilt. Once that was completed, she said, “Everything is ready. We may depart now.”
She went to lift the basket, but the marquess took it and held it out of her reach. “I’ll carry this,” he decreed.
“If you insist,” she said. “Then by all means. Carry it.”
They fell into step together. She would have rather walked with Jaclyn, but she seemed detained by the duke; they were strolling along behind Charlotte and the marquess. Charlotte held the quilt in her hand like it would somehow protect her from Lord Easton and his intentions.
“Your friend will be all right,” the marquess reassured her.
Why was he speaking as if they were more than mere acquaintances? Why did he care if she might be concerned about Georgina? “She will be.” What else could she say? This seemed so awkward she didn’t know how to move past it. Maybe those deportment lessons would have been more useful if she’d paidmore attention. Her current social encounter could have been handled with more decorum if she’d practiced more like her teacher had instructed. Charlotte was at a loss as to how to even hold a conversation with the marquess now. It should not be so difficult. But here she was, unable to find words to fill the void between them.
Silence fell around them as they continued down the path. She didn’t know what to say or how to ease this tension between them. They had a more heated exchange before, and now this. That desire still steamed between them; however, now there was something else there. Something she didn’t quite understand, and she did not like it.
*
Declan had neverfelt anything like this before. He’d never been so at a loss for words. Their conversation was stilted and uncomfortable. He did not know how to proceed. Perhaps he should forget about his obsession with her. It would be for the best. Especially since he had no intention of offering for her. He had no desire for marriage, but his growing need to be near her was alarming Should he reevaluate everything he had previously believed... for her? Declan had much to consider, but later. When he wasn’t so distracted by the beautiful woman beside him.
He inwardly shook. He sneaked a glance at her. Declan had been thinking of her for days now. How could he make his longing cease? He had to find a way to make it stop. That was why he wanted to spend time with her. That had to be the only reason. The more time he was in her company, the less he would find her so damn appealing.
“It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?” The weather? How boring of a conversation starter. As if he couldn’t think of anything better.He should have stayed indoors an extra day. Perhaps then he might have been able to find a modicum of intelligence.
“It is,” she answered readily. “That was why we were so happy to be able to enjoy it. We’ve been relegated to remain inside the castle walls for the days on end of rain we’ve had lately.”
She didn’t seem to mind the topic. Perhaps she was grasping onto it because she didn’t know what to speak about either. It was ridiculous, really. “What do you do when you are indoors? Have more classes?”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Our head mistress is not that cruel.” She laughed lightly, and it sent shivers down his spine. He loved that sound and wanted to hear it more. “Though our classes are not terrible. I even enjoy some of them.”
“How long have you been at Havenwood?” Why had her family sent her there? He knew what they whispered about the school. Many said it was where families sent their daughters after they were embroiled in some sort of scandal. Declan wanted to know her story.
“A year,” she said absentmindedly. “There are not many students that remain during the summer break. Another week and the school will be emptier.”
He hadn’t thought about that. She could be leaving. She could be leaving soon. What would he do then? Declan didn’t intend to remain at his estate long. He would return to London in the fall. Not that he would never return, but what were the chances they would cross paths in the winter months? She would be less likely to take a stroll in the woods during winter. “Are you one of the students leaving?” Declan held his breath as he awaited her answer.
She shook her head, and he let the breath whoosh out as relief flooded him. What was bloody wrong with him? He should want her to leave. “My father wishes for me to remain hereuntil he deems it necessary for me to return to the family.” There was sadness in her tone that made his heart hurt, and he couldn’t help wondering, again, what she’d done to be banished to Havenwood.
He shifted the basket he was carrying in his arms and frowned. “Do you want to go home?” he asked her. Maybe she didn’t wish to see her family as much as her family wanted her to remain in exile.
“At first I did.” She sighed. “I don’t even know why I am telling you this.” Charlotte took a deep breath. “My father can be... exacting.” She continued to walk without speaking for several moments. For a moment, he thought she wouldn’t explain further, but then she started to speak again. “Because of that, he doesn’t make decisions lightly. Once he makes a decision, he is fastidious and doesn’t change his mind. On our way here, he explained in detail what he expected of me. I knew as soon as he left that I would not be returning home until he believed I was ready. I may not even know what he decides until the last second.” She shrugged. “I like it here. Now that I’ve been here for a while, it almost feels like it is where I belong.”
“You don’t want to go home?” That seemed wrong somehow. Who didn’t want to go home? Isn’t that the one place a person felt the safest?
“I don’t have a home,” she said quietly. “My father has never been a kind man. Fair, yes, but not kind. I am happier here.”
There was more there. She was leaving out details, but perhaps she didn’t trust him with those secrets. Who would she tell? That friend of hers that had been with her when she spied on them at the pond—Lady Jaclyn. They seemed much closer than she was with the other girl, the one that Foxmoore was escorting back to the school.
“My mother wants to have a house party,” he found himself saying the words without realizing he spoke. Why was he telling her this?
“Is that so?” She grinned. “You don’t sound thrilled with the prospect.”
“Because I’m not,” he said gruffly. “It is my home. I don’t wish to share it with guests.”
There was a light in her eyes that had not been there previously. She seemed much more jovial. “That is why you should have it, then.”
“Come again?” He frowned. “That makes no sense.”
“It will make you appreciate it all the more once the guests have all left.” She hugged that quilt she was carrying tighter against her. “You don’t really know what you have until you might lose it. Welcoming those to your home will help you understand the gift better. Do you understand? Not everyone is as lucky as you are. Share it.”
