Page 18 of Awakening a Lord's Desires
“Please allow me to introduce my wife, Baroness Penelope. I do believe you might have met in London before, but I wasn’t certain.”
The baroness held out her hand and Charles took it, bowing over it politely. “Yes, I do know your parents, Lord Spencer. I’m so sorry to see they have not come to the country, but it is good you have come to join us. I hope the people here can be enough to entertain you.”
“But of course,” he replied, trying his best not to search around the room for Miss Caroline. “This is my friend Mr Oliver Blackwell. He has come to join me in the country.”
“Yes, we met last evening.” Oliver stepped up beside him with a smile, greeting them both.
The baroness turned to motion to the rest of the room. “Please, do come in. There is refreshment, and I will have to introduce you to my nephew, Mr. Maximilian Thornhill. But he is in conversation, because you see, he is always very popular at parties, whether in the country or in the city.”
The flush came over the woman’s cheeks and Charles, cleared his throat, confused by her reaction, so different from the one that Miss Caroline had had the day before.
“Thank you very much,” Charles said, and with another thank you, the two of them left their hosts and entered the room.
“Well, that was interesting,” Oliver said, accepting a glass of champagne from a footman and handing one to Charles as well.
Charles held onto it tightly, his eyes scanning the room until he found her. “There she is,” he couldn’t help but say, and Oliver followed the direction of his gaze.
She looked beautiful, her blond curls pinned up at the base of her neck, and a jewelled necklace shone at her throat in the candlelight. It was not yet dark, but dusk had arrived, and the candlelight and firelight seemed to shine even brighter now that he could see her. She was in conversation with another young woman, and Charles tried to think of what to say to her.
“Will you go and speak to her? Or will you simply stand there and act as if you are dumbstruck?” Oliver asked.
Charles glared at him. “I hope that something like this happens to you one day, old friend, for I will be merciless.” He took a gulp of his champagne while Oliver chuckled at him.
He was just about to go when he heard someone clearing a throat next to him, and he turned to see a very pleased Mr Merryweather.
“Lord Spencer, Mr Blackwell. I should like you to meet my cousin’s son, Lord Andrew Martin.” The old man, grinning from ear to ear, touched his hand to the young man’s shoulder. Charles sighed inwardly.
He would not be able to speak to her just yet. And if he was going to play the eager Lord Spencer as part of this country set, then he had to be kind and speak to everyone. He could not simply show all his attention to Miss Caroline,—it would be unseemly, and she might think him strange.
And so, he greeted Lord Martin warmly, but he promised himself that he would find a time to speak to her at some point in the evening.
Chapter 19
Caroline had seen him enter and greet her father and stepmother, but she’d done her best not to turn his way. If the kiss had been about to happen that day in the woods, then she did not want anyone to see just how much she had wished for it.
She did not want anyone to know just how glad she was that Lord Spencer was there. She feared that if she showed any preference, her stepmother would work against it, or tell her that she was being far too scandalous for her taste.
And so, she kept her eyes facing the woman with whom she was in conversation, the dreary Mrs Thornton, a widow who was in her dotage and hard of hearing. She always seemed to find Caroline at every event in the countryside, and even though she often peppered her with questions, she could hardly hear the answers. Her lack of hearing also meant she would speak far louder than was necessary.
“And so I hear from your stepmother that you did not have much success in the Season.”
Caroline’s cheeks coloured, but she was glad that no one seemed to notice their conversation since they were all in conversation of their own, and she and the widow were standing in a far corner.
“You are quite correct, but it is no matter. I am glad now to be in the countryside to enjoy its pleasure.”
“Pardon?” Mrs Thornton said, putting her hand around her ear to hear better.
Caroline cleared her throat and tried again with more success.
“There are many fresh faces this year,” the older woman said, turning around to look through a set of glasses. “Ah, and two of those young men I have never seen before.”
This gave Caroline the chance to look towards Lord Spencer and his friend Mr Blackwell. She swallowed, amazed at how a mere look could remind her of the rush of heat she’d felt while her back was against the tree, his thumb brushing long lines against her side.
It had been such a simple movement, and yet she could feel it still, as if the man had burned a line of heat along her skin. He looked very well, freshly shaved, and he seemed to fill out his coat even better than before. While he was not looking at her, she noticed just how tall, strong, and lean he looked. It made her swallow hard again.
“Yes, they are staying in the house nearby. You can see it from here. The Marquess of Queensberry’s home.”
“Ah, of course, of course.” Mrs. Thornton had trouble remembering things, too. “That makes sense now. Looks just like his father, so he does.” She put down her glasses. “And the other young man?”
