Midnight Temptations With a Forbidden Lord (9 page)

She held her shoulders back and blocked out the faces of everyone around her, ignoring the small voice in her head that demanded she yank out of his hold. No one would know of her shame for allowing Mr. Warren to take her arm. No one.

“Lady Charlotte,” someone called.

She released a sigh of relief on seeing Mr. Torrance greet them just inside the entrance of the tea and ice shop. He was a welcome sight, flowery prose and all—if he wanted to wax poetic as he often did.

“Mr. Torrance. How fantastic to find you enjoying ices, too.” Charlotte smiled at him, hoping she looked grateful for his company and not desperate for a companion other than the one on her arm.

Mr. Torrance took her hand and kissed the back of her knuckles gallantly without actually touching his lips to her gloved hand. Charlotte didn’t fail to see the look of disgust that curled Mr. Warren’s lip. Good, she hoped he was so put out that he couldn’t bring himself to touch her again.

Reluctant to quit Mr. Torrance’s company now that it was obvious Mr. Warren would like nothing more than to order their ices and be rid of the man, she lingered. This was a grand payback for the way in which he practically claimed her as his own in front of the many noteworthy people sitting across the street in the park.

“The weather seems to have brought everyone of good name to this fine establishment,” she noted to Mr. Torrance.

“And who are you here with?” Genny asked.

“My sister, Miss Camden.” He nodded toward the park. His sister, a thin, shorter woman wearing a white-sprigged walking dress with a pink ribbon sash about her waist and a winning smile, waved back at them.

Before Charlotte could offer to have a longer conversation over ices, Mr. Warren said, “A pleasure to see you, Mr. Torrance. But we must bid our adieus, as we are for the counter. Perhaps another time we can arrange a picnic party.”

Mr. Torrance backed up with a bright smile. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I simply had to say good day.” Mr. Torrance tipped his tall hat at both her and Genny. “I will see you ladies soon enough.”

Most certainly they would since he seemed to follow Ariel about in the evenings.

“Good day, Mr. Torrance. It was really lovely to see you,” Charlotte said just as he turned and made his way back across the street, dodging carriages and horses alike to return to his sister’s side.

Mr. Warren pulled her forward before she was ready to take a step and she stumbled into his side. He didn’t apologize for his rough handling, just carried on as though he didn’t notice her body colliding into his.

When they reached the polished mahogany counter, he ordered a lime ice for her—did he do so because he knew she secretly hated the tart flavor?—and a bergamot water ice for himself.

“Miss Camden, which is your preference?” he asked, and Charlotte wanted to stamp her heeled shoe on his foot for not asking her what she liked, as well. What point was he trying to prove?

Charlotte hoped that Genny could see the fiery rage clear in her gaze; surely it was obvious that he was intentionally treating her as inferior. There was no denying that Mr. Warren was high-handed only when it came to her.

“I think I might like the muscadine ice.” Her cousin truly did love her. Muscadine—which was grapelike in flavor—was Charlotte’s favorite ice flavor, and she knew that Genny didn’t care for ices at all.

“Excellent choice, madam.”

Their order was confirmed and the man behind the counter told them that he would find them in the park once the ices were ready. Charlotte found herself free of Mr. Warren’s arm as he dug into his vest pocket to retrieve a few coins to pay for their treat.

Charlotte didn’t waste the opportunity of being free of him and quickly threaded her arm through Genny’s. Just because she was set to marry him in the fall didn’t mean he had the right to act as though he had any say over her actions now. Goodness, she certainly hoped he didn’t mean to dictate every part of her life when they—

She stopped that thought.

She would stop their marriage. And if the Marquess of Castleigh could be won to her favor, she’d have no trouble at all ending the engagement before summer concluded.

“Wherever shall we find a seat?” Charlotte asked, hoping they would stand in the crowd only long enough to eat their ices before he took her and Genny home.

Gunter’s was positively overflowing and there wasn’t a seat to be found. That was why patrons sat out on the lawn across from the ice shop. They’d have to do the same, though she supposed they could eat in the carriage.

“We’ll sit on the grass.” Mr. Warren turned and glanced at both their dresses. Charlotte wore sunny yellow muslin; Genny had opted, as she often did, for navy blue. “The ground seems to have dried out so it shouldn’t damage your dresses any.”

Finding a stretch of grass in the sun, Mr. Warren told them both to wait a moment so he could retrieve a blanket from his carriage. It was the first gentlemanly behavior he’d shown her all day—perhaps it was for Genny’s benefit.

The moment he left, Charlotte started in on her cousin. “Did you see what he did? He made my decision without consulting me. As though he already has control over what I do, what I say, and how I should act. The man thrives on putting me down and making sure I’m at my wit’s end.” Charlotte pressed her back against an elm tree and suppressed the urge to cross her arms over her chest and sulk her complete and utter annoyance.

“When it’s decided that you’ll marry before you have had the opportunity to really get to know someone, it creates hurdles you must triumph over. You’re a smart woman, Charlotte. I know you can sway Mr. Warren to your favor as you do your hundred beaux at every event.”

“Mr. Warren does not want to be charmed.”

“Perhaps not, but he is often cross with you because you constantly challenge his authority.”

Her cousin paused, eyeing the crowd around them. Did she see someone of interest? Charlotte glanced over the faces, seeing many acquaintances, and hesitated …

Was that the marquess?

Chapter 6

Gunter’s offers the best grounds for fodder on various members of the ton. You merely need to order one of the shop’s specialties, find a nice seat under the shade of a tall tree on the park lawn, and watch everyone around. A significant glance—sometimes even a passing caress—may be witnessed. And what salaciousness was revealed to me on this unusually hot May afternoon.
A greeting between a young lady freshly introduced to society and a rake with too many years’ experience to count; a humble patron of virtue soon to be exposed as a charlatan; a man of decency engaged in an illicit affair that will do more damage than he can anticipate to the woman he pleasures. Are your ears burning for me to reveal what I’ve only started to uncover? Soon, dear readers, soon you’ll learn everything I know.
—The Mayfair Chronicles,
May 1846 The marquess was here and Charlotte was positive her cousin hadn’t seen him for she would have made some scathing remark about his character. She felt suddenly light-headed as the blood pounded heavily through her veins, and breathing became difficult as her heart skipped at a frantic, excited pace. Never had she felt so attuned to another person.

The first genuine smile of the day tilted up her lips. She would not reveal his presence to Genny. The letter she had addressed to him and hidden in her bodice before they’d left the house burned against her breast. She had been right to bring the letter with her, instead of having her maid deliver it directly into his hands.

The marquess was with another woman and two children. Could those be the very ones he’d mentioned to her? The girl had blonde hair braided on either side of her round face. A straw hat with periwinkle ribbons blew gently in the breeze; she looked to be about ten, but it was difficult to ascertain at this distance. The boy was dark-haired, and his back was to her so all she could tell was that he was younger than the girl, and his hair was dark and unruly like his father’s. There was no doubt in her mind that both children were likely as striking as their father.

Charlotte tapped her finger to her chin as she scrutinized the woman. Who was she? Definitely a relation—they shared many of the same features, from their dark hair and light eyes to their slender forms.

She could only make out the marquess’s profile when he turned to address one of the children and the woman he sat with. To Charlotte, he looked more relaxed—different, almost—when surrounded by his family. More so than when he was charming half a dozen ladies in any given drawing room. It was almost as though he allowed himself to be less refined. More of his true self and not the profligate lord society expected of him. How she could make that out from across the park, she had no idea.

Now she had to find a way to give him the letter, and she must do so before Mr. Warren came back with the blanket.

Charlotte’s eyes flitted from patron to patron, hoping to see someone familiar. And wouldn’t luck have it that Lady Hargrove stood not ten feet away from the marquess. A most perfect opportunity had just presented itself and she’d not waste what could be her only chance to see the marquess today.

“Oh, look, Genny.” Charlotte stood on her toes and nodded her head in the direction of Lady Hargrove. She was conversing with Mr. Torrance. “I must offer a hallo. It would be rude not to do so.”

“Very true.” Genny sighed. “We definitely need to pay our respects to Lady Hargrove. I’ll wait here for Mr. Warren. It wouldn’t do for him to think we’d wandered off without him.”

“I promise to be quick.” She fluttered her lashes at her cousin. “I really wouldn’t want Mr. Warren to feel put out.”

“That gleam in your eyes says otherwise.”

There was no censure in her cousin’s comment, only a hint of laughter. Maybe she, too, was sick to death of the less than civil exchanges between Charlotte and Mr. Warren.

She kissed her cousin’s cheek. “I won’t be overlong.”

Charlotte felt a strong skip in her heart to have this opportunity. Weaving her way through the guests, she curtsied to Lady Hargrove when she was close enough to converse with the older woman.

“Good day to you, my lady.” She nodded to Mr. Torrance. “And a pleasure to see you again so soon.”

“Dearest.” Lady Hargrove placed a hand on each of Charlotte’s arms and gave them a gentle squeeze as she pulled her in for a brief hug. “What brings you to Gunter’s? Tea or ices?”

“Ices, of course. Mr. Warren is treating us.”

Lady Hargrove glanced over Charlotte’s shoulder to see where her companion was. “How nice. I see him retrieving a blanket. It’ll be a lovely picnic with the weather finally cooperating today.”

Charlotte turned and noted that he was indeed carrying a small blanket toward Genny. She had but a few moments before she knew he would become suspicious and search her out. And she wanted no additional eyes on her as she completed her errand.

“You could join us for a spell,” Charlotte offered, knowing they would refuse.

“I mustn’t, dear. I’m headed home to retrieve Ariel from her piano lesson, then over to the confectionary to order some chocolate desserts for our dinner party next week.”

“Well, I wish you a successful afternoon, then.” She ducked her head, knowing it was now time to hand over the letter to the marquess. “Mr. Torrance. Lady Hargrove, I wish you both a wonderful day.”

“You, too, my lady,” Mr. Torrance said with a tip of his hat.

“I will see you tonight, child,” Lady Hargrove said with an affectionate squeeze of her hand.

Charlotte lifted her skirts slightly so she could turn easily, and made her way toward the marquess. Glancing across the lawn, she saw that Mr. Warren had just made it back to her cousin’s side, saying something cordial that made Genny smile. Why was he so nice to everyone but her?

On reaching the area where the marquess sat with his family, she said, “Good day, my lord.”

He turned to gaze up at her. His expression was soft as he stood to greet her properly.

“I simply had to stop and say hallo when I noticed you from the corner of my eye. I was just conversing with Lady Hargrove.”

She tucked her hand into the top of her bodice and pulled out the folded letter she’d had the sense to tuck away. The marquess noted the action, for his eyes dropped to her bosom and then back to gaze upon her face with a knowing smile that was so deliciously wicked she wanted to reciprocate with some sort of naughty behavior. Their setting and the children stopped her from doing anything rash.

Too low for anyone but her to hear, he said, “You play a dangerous game.”

She looked at him through her lashes, her expression demure and inviting. “It’s the small things in life that keep me happy.”

He took her hand, pressed his lips against her knuckles, and palmed the letter from her hold.

“You should return to your cousin before she sees that you have found me.”

“I am safe for a moment more while they set up the blanket.” She nibbled at her bottom lip and finally met his fiery gaze. She wasn’t sure what else to say, and wished she could converse with him for the rest of the afternoon instead of stodgy Mr. Warren. Another time perhaps.

“I love a woman who eschews the rules of society.”

She felt her cheeks pinken under his regard. “Rules are made to be broken, my lord. But you are right, I must return to my party.”