Page 54 of How to Seduce a Duke this Autumn
With Adam, somehow, her guard lowered. For some reason, she never felt scrutinized around him, never felt less than herself.
The thought of Adam made her cheeks flush.
While Henry held charm in spades and everyone else in the room seemed enraptured by him, her heart still turned, unbidden, toward the man who truly left her breathless for reasons beyond mere appearances. Adam made her feel steady when all else wavered. How maddening, how utterly maddening…
“Ah, Charlene,” Ashley’s voice broke in, laced with teasing amusement. “I’m afraid I must depart.” She flattened an imaginary wrinkle of her gown. “Maddie, come and I shall escort you home in my carriage.” Then she nodded in Charlene’s direction with an arched brow. “I suppose it only makes sense. You’ve a particular flair for hospitality?”
“The book is completely irrelevant,” Charlene blurted out, but her words did nothing to abate the laughter that rippled through her small audience. “I’ll show you to the dining room; lunch should be served by now.”
Maddie, for her part, remained planted firmly on the scandalous tome, her posture so stiff one might mistake her for an immovable statue.
Charlene glanced toward the door, deciding whether to run away or not.
“Shall we go, Mr. Grafton?” she asked, her tone clipped and brisk in hopes of ending this agony swiftly. Ashley and Maddie rose to follow them.
“The honor is mine, Lady Charlene,” he said with such unassailable politeness.
And as Charlene led him to the dining room, her face aflame, her thoughts betrayed her once again, circling back to Adam. How was it possible to miss someone so acutely? How was it possible that a simple memory of him could outshine all else? Whatever charm Mr. Grafton held, Adam had already captured her attention in his quiet, unassuming way. There was no uncapturing it. For the moment, at least.
But then Ashley tugged Maddie’s arm and they stayed back.
“Charlene, we must take the carriage.” Ashley gave a meaningful nod. “Maddie just reminded me that we need to purchase more ribbon for the invitations.”
Maddie nodded vigorously.
Oh, please!
“You really ought to stay,” Maddie added primly, though her lips twitched as if fighting a smile. “It’s only proper that you do as hostess. We, however, must take our leave.”
“I hardly think he requires more than my hospitality,” Charlene muttered weakly, wishing with every fiber of her being for the earth to simply swallow her whole. Yet the others, evidently delighted by the notion, paid her protests no mind.
“Nonsense,” Ashley chimed in. “You must stay.” Her laughter, light and musical, draped easily across the room, only deepening Charlene’s humiliation.
“I would be honored to have luncheon with just you,” Mr. Grafton interjected smoothly, his tone so perfectly genteel it only worsened Charlene’s plight. His gaze, steady and warm, met hers briefly. “Lady Charlene, if you’ll be so kind.” As expected of any well-mannered guest, he offered a slight bow, though the twinkle in his eye suggested he hadn’t missed the chaos of implication surrounding them.
But all she could think of was how she wished she could see Adam again.
*
For better orworse, Charlene Fielding had claimed his thoughts. No amount of duty, however pressing, could distract him from that truth.
Adam swung open the broad, iron-bound door of the family estate, his every step echoing with restraint as he sought to keep his balance—not physically, but emotionally. The memory of Charlene, warm and vivid, tangled with the calm that had momentarily settled over him after kissing her. Her startled eyes, the soft press of her lips… Such thoughts could undo a man. He was certain it already had.
“¡Adam! Por fin!”
His musings were jolted by his mother’s voice. She moved toward him, her jewel-toned skirts swishing unhurriedly but purposefully. Her arms opened wide, as if he were still a small boy returning from a romp in the fields instead of a grown man wishing to escape further chaos.
“Mother,” he greeted evenly, stepping forward to drop a kiss on her offered cheek, braced for the way she would firmly grasp his shoulders and beam up at him with both pride and impatience. Carmen Cross, formidable in stature despite her shorter height, held him in place for a beat too long, her dark eyes narrowing as though seeking something unspoken.
“Hijo,” she said dramatically, as was her way, “you look too thin. You’ve been working yourself to stone. No one will marry a statue, Adam! Have you even eaten today? You must sit and take chocolate with us.”
Before he could muster a reply, she turned and clapped her hands sharply, startling a footman who had frozen mid-bow. “You! Go and see that our excellent cook prepares something for Adam. Now.” She turned to a lady in a burgundy gown and gavean indulgent smile. “We’ve had the same cook for over twenty years, and she truly knows our ways.”
“I assure you, Mother, I’m well,” Adam managed, even as a kitchen maid rushed past with a tray clearly pilfered from the tea table.
“Well?” she repeated, tossing her hands in exasperation. “This is British modesty nonsense. Bah! Look at him.” She gestured to no one in particular, as though seeking confirmation from the walls themselves. “Fine. Fine! He doesn’t see what a sorry sight he is. Good thing Miss Martin has arrived to visit you. She will see to your entertainment, I’m sure.”
“Miss Martin?” Adam repeated with a frown, just as an unmistakable whirlwind of lilac and lace stepped into view.
