Just a Kiss (6 page)

Chapter Six

Charlotte wiggled on the carriage seat, unable to remain still. She was about to attend her first opera, and at The Theatre Royale, Covent Garden. The closest she’d ever come to the theater was riding past in a carriage. She glanced at Elizabeth and Richard sitting across from her. Richard’s lips twisted in a frown. He wasn’t thrilled about their outing, but he couldn’t very well refuse an invitation from the Duke and Duchess of Chadwick to join them in their private box.

A light rain fell amid a brisk wind as they rolled to a stop in front of the theater, so they wasted no time getting inside. After shedding their cloaks, they entered the opulent Saloon, where the din of voices greeted them. Patrons stood chatting in clusters and sitting along the banquettes. Silk curtains framed the windows, and colorful pillows added comfort to the seating. Statues placed on pedestals between the banquettes may have afforded a modicum of privacy when it was less crowded. They passed through the Saloon and were ushered into the Chadwick box.

Charlotte made her greeting to the duke and duchess and followed Anna to the front row. Large chandeliers lit the theater and boxes as well, allowing her to view the patrons. Though the dress was formal, the atmosphere was rather raucous. Ladies and gentlemen both moved about the theater, passing from box to box to greet acquaintances and call to others in the pit.

“Is it always this active?” Charlotte asked Anna.

She nodded. “Attending the theater in London seems to me to be a very informal event. People come and go as they please and frequently converse during the performance.”

Charlotte scanned the other boxes and noted several familiar faces in the crowd. Sebastian and Lord Ashdown were in a box across and up from the Chadwick’s. Her stomach fluttered when Sebastian turned her way. He bowed in acknowledgement and returned his attention to the lady he was speaking with. Charlotte didn’t recognize the woman. Was she a relative? A marriage prospect? Lady Marley raised her fan in greeting and Charlotte waved back. The curtains moved, and she turned her attention to the stage.

Charlotte was mesmerized from the moment the curtain rose. The design of the theater amplified the music, enveloping her in her own magical world. It was as if the music was a part of her. The scenery was equally spectacular. It must have taken a great amount of effort to create it, but she was equally stunned by the detail and thought that went into how the scenery moved and the singers interacted with it. Her favorite scene featured a harbor with ships that bobbed in the waves.

When the curtains closed on the first act, Charlotte slowly came back to reality.

Anna touched her arm. “You seem to be enjoying the performance.”

“Very much so.” She was disoriented, as if she had woken from a dream. Elizabeth and Richard were still behind her, engaged in conversation with the duke and duchess. She searched the boxes across the theater, but was unable to locate Sebastian or Lord Ashdown. Lady Marley slumped in her seat, her eyes closed.

“Are we permitted to leave the box during the intermission?” she asked Anna.

“Certainly, but for a lady, it is generally preferable to remain in your box and wait to see who will seek you out.”

Before Charlotte could reply, Lord Hudnall, the heir to the Duke of Abney, entered their box. After paying his respects to everyone, he made it obvious the purpose of his visit was to court Anna.

Charlotte stepped away to give them a modicum of privacy, though the box wasn’t particularly spacious.

“Are you enjoying the show, Miss Lightwood?” Sebastian said from behind her.

Her neck prickled at his nearness. “Very much, thank you.”

He moved beside her, heat emanating from him and disbursing his familiar scent of sandalwood and citrus. She turned toward him, noting Lord Ashdown in the back of the box, conversing with Richard.

“I remember the first time I attended the theater. It was a play rather than the opera, but the experience was memorable. The sounds and scenery, the talent of the players. It’s an experience not to be missed.”

A pleasant warmth spread through her at his understanding of how she was affected by the performance. “This is my first visit to a professional theater. My niece and I sometimes wrote and performed our own plays, and the servants were always very complimentary, but it’s not quite the same thing.”

He tapped his hand against the edge of the box. “I imagine not. Even the productions I’ve been involved in at house parties and the like pale in comparison. Though it is diverting to pretend to be someone else at times.”

Charlotte wished they were alone so they could have more than a superficial conversation, but there was nothing to be gained by pretending that her attraction to Sebastian would end in anything but heartache. Her time would be better served getting to know Anna better so she could fulfill her matchmaking role for Sebastian. “I do envy the talent of the singers. Sometimes I imagine a different life in which I have a talent that would be appreciated by others.”

Sebastian’s gaze met hers, his smile causing crinkles at the corners of his eyes. “You have many admirable qualities, Miss Lightwood, not the least of which is your flower arranging. Or should I say rearranging?” His fingers brushed against hers in a barely perceptible movement, but the brief touch sent a thrill through her.

People began returning to their seats throughout the theater. Sebastian took a deep breath and blinked. “I believe this is my cue to return to my box.” He lifted his hand, then returned it to his side. “Until we meet again, Miss Lightwood.” He bowed and exited.

Charlotte watched him leave as heaviness settled over her. She sank into her chair and Anna returned to the seat next to her.

“Did you enjoy your conversation with Lord Hudnall?” Charlotte asked.

Anna took a deep breath and blew the air out before responding. “As much as it is possible to enjoy a conversation with him, I suppose.”

Charlotte raised her brows. “I believe Lord Marley had intended to speak with you, but Lord Hudnall monopolized your time.”

Anna’s eyes narrowed. “Lord Marley seemed content where he was.”

Charlotte cleared her throat. “We simply conversed about the show and compared the talents of the singers to our rather paltry experiences performing in amateur shows. Lord Marley is very easy to converse with.”

“So it would seem.” She raised a brow but said no more on the topic.

Charlotte perused the crowd, searching for more familiar faces, and noted with a strange sense of bereavement that Sebastian and Lady Marley were no longer in their box. Scolding herself for not taking advantage of what might be her only chance to see a show of this caliber, she immersed herself in the story.

Charlotte had assumed they would stay for the entire performance. She had heard that the farce that ended the entertainment was often the highlight of the evening, but Richard insisted on leaving as soon as the curtain came down on the second act, and Elizabeth refused the duchess’s offer to bring Charlotte home.

They offered their thanks, and before Charlotte knew it, they had settled into the carriage. This time Elizabeth sat next to her, and Richard stretched out on the opposite seat. Charlotte closed her eyes and feigned sleep.

Elizabeth tapped her arm a few moments later, and Charlotte lifted her lids to find Richard asleep on the seat across from her.

“Charlotte, I would like an explanation for your inappropriate behavior this evening.”

She shook her head and turned to Elizabeth. “I beg your pardon. In what way was my behavior inappropriate?”

“You held a private conversation with Lord Marley in a theater box in full view of most of London society. Everyone shall expect a betrothal announcement.” Elizabeth opened her fan, then snapped it closed. “What do you think will come of your relationship with him? He will not make an offer for you. Surely even you can understand that.”

Her heart clenched. “I don’t expect Lord Marley to make an offer for me. He is simply a gentleman who makes it his business to converse with everyone rather than ignoring those who are less fortunate than he. He was equally gracious to you and Richard, as well.” Elizabeth was due for a reminder that her own status was not so exalted.

Elizabeth crossed her arms. “I want you to stay away from him. Do not forget that you have a standing offer of marriage from Horace. He will not wait forever for you to come to your senses. Nor will he wed a girl who behaves inappropriately in public.”

Charlotte turned to the window, though there wasn’t much to see beyond the gaslights lining the streets. Most of the homes were dark, their occupants retired for the night.

“You are lucky to have an offer at all. Horace has inherited an estate. I suggest you carefully consider your situation and make a wise decision about your future.”

She would rather live out her life alone than with Horace. Perhaps she could live above a flower shop and spend her days arranging flowers. It was a far better prospect than marrying a man she detested with every fiber of her being.

…

Sebastian rang for tea, helped Gran settle in her chamber, and then followed the maid into the corridor. “Would you be so kind as to ask Hudson to attend me?”

She curtsied. “Of course, my lord.”

He remained in the corridor to wait for Hudson so Gran could change out of her gown. He placed his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall. He would have preferred to stay at the theater longer, but Gran’s health was still fragile. He delighted in watching Charlotte throughout the first act. She had an innocence he found intoxicating. It was a joy to see her so absorbed in the show despite the fact that few others in the theater paid much attention. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been that enthralled with anything.

Hudson’s footfalls sounded against the stairs, and he came into view at the end of the corridor. “You wished to see me, my lord?”

Sebastian removed his hands from his pockets and crossed his arms. “Yes. I need you to make arrangements for flowers to be delivered in the morning. The first bouquet should go to Princess Tarasova at Chadwick House.”

Hudson nodded. “Shall I choose the flowers, my lord?”

“Yes, and include my card. For the second bouquet, make it wildflowers, preferably with daisies, Queen Anne’s lace, and dandelions.”

Hudson raised his brows but didn’t comment.

“The wildflower arrangement will go to Miss Lightwood, care of Sir Richard Lightwood.”

“Very good, sir.”

“I’d like to include a note as well. It should read, ‘Do let me know if the bouquet passed muster or if it required rearranging.’”

Hudson’s lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. “Will that be all, sir?”

Sebastian nodded and Hudson left. He peered into Gran’s chamber and found her sitting in an armchair near the table where tea would be served. She seemed to have gained back some of the weight she’d lost, but he was still concerned that she hadn’t fully recovered from her illness. He stepped aside to allow the maid with the tea tray to enter, then followed her in and sat on the edge of the chaise lounge across from Gran. The tray held an array of scones. He reached for one and Gran slapped his hand.

“You will wait to be served.”

Her domineering behavior did not bode well for him. He straightened in his seat and accepted a cup of tea from her.

She took a sip of her tea, added more cream, and took another sip. “So you’re keeping your options open. Do you think that’s wise?” she asked in a stiff tone.

He set his cup on the table. “I haven’t the pleasure of understanding your meaning.”

She raised a brow. “Sending flowers to two different ladies?”

“Your hearing is surprisingly good for a woman your age.”

She slammed her cup down. “What are you playing at?”

“I’m not playing at anything.” He picked up a scone and took a bite, ignoring her steady regard. She studied him long enough for him to finish the scone and choose another.

“A lady makes certain assumptions when a gentleman sends her flowers.” Her voice had gone up an octave.

He clasped his hands across his knees. “What sort of assumptions?”

She sighed. “That the sender is pursuing her, of course.”

He grimaced. “It can’t just be a sign of regard without meaning more?”

“It always means more to a woman. You’re walking a fine line. Don’t provide false hope where it’s not warranted.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “I will bear that in mind.”

She pointed a finger at him. “See that you do. Princess Tarasova would be an excellent match for you, but I don’t wish to see Miss Lightwood hurt.”

“I am merely trying to follow your suggestion to draw attention to them. Flowers in the drawing room alert other gentleman that they have competition, as you asked me to see to.”

The wrinkles puckered around her lips. “Your time would be better spent determining your own future.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Not an easy task, that. Though it ought to be. Charlotte enticed him in a way he didn’t fully understand, but if he had to marry, Princess Tarasova was the obvious choice for him. An alliance with her would augment the wealth and prestige of his title. An alliance with Charlotte would do neither.

Chapter Seven

Sebastian arrived unfashionably early to the Paddon ball. He made sure Gran and Oscar were comfortable in the card room before searching out a discreet location where he could watch for Charlotte’s arrival. He’d watched for twenty minutes when a voice addressed him from behind.

“Lord Marley, I would have a word with you, if you please,” said Lady Paddon.

He turned and bit back a groan at her disagreeable expression. It did not please him at all. Not only had he failed to locate Charlotte, but he’d searched so intently, he’d neglected to notice Lady Paddon’s approach before it was too late to make an escape. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Her nostrils flared, and she tapped her foot almost maniacally. “I am certain I do not need to remind you what happened the last time your grandmother and her dog were here.”

“Of course not,” he said through clenched teeth. The last time they attended an event at the Paddon residence, Oscar had raised his leg on Lady Paddon’s new silk curtains and raided the refreshment table. In the ensuing melee, he bit two footmen who attempted to capture him and also one of the guests, although that didn’t signify since it was only Ashdown.

“Then I have your word my home and guests will be safe from that mongrel?” She tapped her foot again.

“As you wish, my lady.” He sketched a shallow bow and walked away. He still hadn’t located Charlotte, but Ashdown had arrived and stood near the balcony entrance scanning the ballroom. He lifted his chin in greeting at Sebastian’s approach.

Sebastian glanced across the ballroom, which was rapidly filling. “I find myself in need of your assistance.”

Ashdown’s gaze followed his, taking in the bustling activity of those arriving at the ball. “The night is young. How have you managed to get yourself into trouble so quickly?”

“Gran.”

“Ah.” Ashdown nodded. “What is our mission?”

“To dance with Princess Tarasova and Miss Lightwood. Gran has taken a liking to them both and wishes to see them betrothed to men of whom she approves.” Sebastian continued to scan the ballroom, searching for either of the ladies in question.

“Well then, I guess we’ll have to marry them ourselves since there is no one else she approves of.”

“Not true. You know she doesn’t approve of you,” Sebastian said.

Ashdown laughed and turned to face him. “Speaking of which, I’ll need an introduction to Miss Lightwood before I can be of any use in that quarter.”

Sebastian shot him a puzzled glance. “I thought you assisted in her rescue of Oscar.”

“So I did, but your grandmother dismissed me before I could seek a formal introduction. I had to ask around to find out who she was.”

It was Sebastian’s turn to laugh. “Why didn’t you request an introduction at the opera?”

“There wasn’t enough time during the first intermission, and she left after the second act.” Ashdown cocked his head to the side and watched the entrance. “There she is now. In fact, Princess Tarasova has also arrived. I will seek an introduction from Lady Lightwood. You go ask the princess to dance.” He took off without waiting for a response.

That wasn’t precisely what Sebastian had intended, but he couldn’t think of a reason to convince Ashdown otherwise.

As he moved through the crowd, he came across Charlotte’s tormenters from the Chadwick ball.

One girl gestured toward the other side of the ballroom. “I’ve never seen her wear any jewelry before, and she has no money of her own. How could she afford diamonds?”

Sebastian turned in the direction the girl had gestured. Charlotte did indeed have a diamond snood and a heavily embroidered gold sash also embellished with diamonds.

“Lady Lightwood must have lent it to her,” said Paddon’s daughter.

“No, I’ve never seen her wear anything like that. Surely she would not allow her ward to be the first to wear a new piece. Perhaps she has a…err…sponsor.” She ran her thumb over the stones on her necklace.

The Paddon chit glanced around them and leaned closer before speaking. “Are you saying you think she has become someone’s mistress?” She shook her head. “Mama would not have allowed her to attend the ball if that were true.”

The other girl nodded. “She did garner a lot of attention after Lord Marley danced with her at the Chadwick ball a few weeks ago. We saw him visit her in the Chadwick box at the opera last week, and they were seen together in Hyde Park as well.”

The Paddon girl’s mouth dropped open. “Maybe he gave her the diamonds.”

“There has been no announcement of their betrothal. Do you think he is her sponsor?”

Sebastian couldn’t listen to any more of their speculation. He was certain that Charlotte had not become anyone’s paramour, but he intended to track down the source of her new accessories. Surely she was not so naive as to accept a gift from a man, and even if she was, Lady Lightwood certainly knew better. Perception was everything within the
ton
, and he would not stand idly by while her reputation was ruined. He set off after Ashdown, intent upon watching each of Charlotte’s dance partners for any sign of inappropriate behavior toward her. No one would take advantage of her on his watch, and he wasn’t above using his fists to get his point across.

…

After three interminable hours, during which he inadvertently chased away four suitors, Sebastian glowered at Charlotte. She stood to the side of the dance floor sipping lemonade, looking almost as distracted as she made him. He derived some satisfaction in knowing that her evening had been as agitating as his. The princess glided into view, and he belatedly recalled that he had engaged her for the next dance.

Anna Tarasova, with her silky-blond hair, cornflower-blue eyes, and a body worth fighting to the death over, was just the sort of woman Sebastian fancied he could tame. Except she hadn’t the feisty mien he wanted to spend his life attempting to conquer, and she lacked the allure Charlotte exuded in spades. Charlotte, whom he felt the need to keep within sight as she moved about the ballroom. His plan had worked. Too well. She’d had a partner for every dance so far, though none were good matches for her, each bearing an unfortunate fatal flaw.

He greeted the princess and led her onto the dance floor. Ashdown was partnering Charlotte for the second time. When the music began, he strained to the left and scowled at the placement of Ashdown’s hand so low on Charlotte’s back.

“My lord, is something amiss?” Princess Tarasova asked.

“Err…no.” He was being unforgivably rude to the princess. He shot her his most rakish smile.

As they turned back to the right, his pulse thumped against his temples as Ashdown leaned close to whisper something in Charlotte’s ear. His hand shook with the restraint required to prevent him from challenging Ashdown to a duel.

Princess Tarasova met his gaze. “My lord, are you certain you are well?”

“Of course. It’s just a trifle warm in here.” He shot her another reassuring smile and forced himself to refrain from watching Ashdown and Charlotte.

“She is quite captivating tonight, is she not?” Princess Tarasova asked.

He leaned toward her. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’m speaking of Miss Lightwood.” She tipped her head toward Charlotte.

Something in his mind clicked into place. “You gave her the diamonds.”

She nodded.

“Why?”

She glanced back at Charlotte. “Because she is my friend. Because I have much and she has so little.”

“You are very kind,” he said.

And she was. She was kind, beautiful, and wealthy. She was the perfect match for him. Except that he didn’t feel the slightest bit attracted to her. He wanted Charlotte. He wanted her with an intensity he’d never experienced in his life. But there was no reason to believe she was any different from other women. He was certain if he kissed her, the magic would wear off, and she would be just one more in the crowd of women hoping to marry him for his title and wealth. Just a kiss was all it would take to rid him of this ridiculous infatuation.

After finishing his set with the princess, he made his excuses and headed toward the terrace to clear his head and remind himself of his priorities. Gran deserved to see him settled, and perhaps even meet a great-grandchild. He would do his duty and choose a bride who would enhance the title he had been entrusted with.

Ashdown intercepted him at the threshold to the terrace and followed him outside. By tacit agreement, they proceeded to a secluded area near the corner of the house.

“Is something amiss?” Ashdown asked. “You don’t seem yourself tonight.”

Sebastian trusted him implicitly, but he had no desire to share his conflicted emotions with anyone. He rubbed his hands together and focused on the contours of the dark garden. “I fear I’ve grown blasé about the season.”

“Your disinterest doesn’t seem to extend to Miss Lightwood.”

He turned toward Ashdown. “I beg your pardon.”

Ashdown took a step toward him, arms crossed. “You couldn’t take your eyes off her while you were dancing with Princess Tarasova.”

Sebastian opened his mouth to defend himself, but Ashdown stopped him with a raised hand. “Don’t bother to deny it. I know you too well.”

Sebastian kicked at the gravel on a path that led deeper into the garden. “If you must know, I am fond of Miss Lightwood, but I think you misunderstand my intentions. I am hoping my feigned interest will attract other suitors for her.”

His eyes narrowed. “Does she know that’s what you’re about?”

“Of course.” Sebastian ran his fingers through his hair. “We are acquaintances. Nothing more. She has no particular regard for me.” He almost convinced himself it was true.

The weight of Ashdown’s stare forced him to look up. Ashdown raised his brows. “All the same, do tread carefully. I shouldn’t like to see her hurt.”

“Nor would I.”

“On that, at least, we are in agreement.” Ashdown turned to head back toward the brightly lit ballroom.

“What is your interest in Miss Lightwood?” Sebastian called after him.

He turned back. “I am simply trying to look out for her interests, since her family is inadequate to the task.”

Sebastian raised his chin. “As am I.”

“Very well then. We shall both act as her protectors until she secures a suitable match.” Ashdown’s feet crunched on the gravel as he headed for the ballroom.

Sebastian paced toward a fountain, deeming himself unfit to rejoin the party. He had been so consumed with his own feelings, he hadn’t considered Charlotte’s. Unlike Ashdown, she had known about their arrangement from the beginning, so surely she would not be affected when their fabricated courtship came to an end. He wished he could say the same for himself.

He took a deep breath and returned to the house.

While scouring the ballroom for Charlotte, Sebastian was caught unawares for the second time that night.

“Good evening, Lord Marley.” Lady Wilson curtsied. “You remember my daughter, Lady Lavinia.”

“Yes, of course,” he said. The girl curtsied, and he bowed. He still hadn’t spotted Charlotte. “If you will excuse me—”

“But my lord, Lavinia was hoping you might be free for the next set,” Lady Wilson said with a feral gleam in her eyes. The girl smiled inanely.

The audacity of the woman. Did she think trapping a gentleman into dancing with her daughter would net an offer of marriage? And she
had
trapped him. He could hardly avoid asking her to dance now. It would be a cut direct, and the poor girl didn’t deserve that, no matter how predatory her mother might be.

He fisted his hands, digging his nails into his palms. “Lady Lavinia, would you care to dance?” It came out a bit more like a growl than he had intended.

“Why thank you, my lord. I would be honored,” she said, as if he was genuinely interested in dancing with her.

He led the daft girl to the dance floor, and they took their places for the quadrille.

“We’re having very fine weather,” she said.

“Indeed.” He would suffer through dancing with her, but he would not force himself to engage in awkward conversation. After what seemed like hours, the infernal music stopped. He rushed Lady Lavinia to her mother and left, not bothering with the expected pleasantries.

After circling the ballroom twice, he finally came upon Charlotte at the refreshment table, attempting to dislodge her dance card from underneath a large vase. Amused by her antics, he stopped to watch. She worked the card back and forth, apparently hoping it would slide out, but when that didn’t work she gave up and wrenched it free, sending the vase tottering. He rushed to her aid, slipping an arm around her to pull her against his chest while he steadied the vase. He closed his eyes, marveling at how perfectly she fit against him. The loud clearing of a throat brought him to his senses, and he lifted his lids to find Lady Paddon staring at him, brows raised in censure.

Ballocks.