Page 4 of Always the Chaperone
William grinned at his brother. Five years younger, he may have been through Sandhurst, but he had never seen the battlefield, and it showed. “Gloucester, these chits are inane, there is no intelligence in them at all.”
“Who wants intelligence?” John had a spark in his eyes that William knew all too well. “We are surrounded by beauty…”
“—but nothing of substance.” William sighed. “I know it was right and proper that we showed our faces here today.”
“Your face,” John interrupted. “Everyone wants the new Duke of Mercia, not his younger brother.”
William paused, looking into his brother’s eyes. Was that bitterness, a hint of envy in his voice?
“Ah, Your Grace, I have good news!” Miss Darby was back, and she was beaming. “I have spoken with Lady Charlotte, sister of the Duke of Axwick, and she is perfectly amenable to act as chaperone for our plan!”
William coughed in the awkward silence. “Plan?”
Miss Darby’s smile faded. “To the opera.The Magic Flute. You invited me.”
It all came rushing back to him, the spare tickets and the impetuous invitation he had made not ten minutes before.
“The opera!” he said, trying to inject some merriment into his words. “What a kind offer of Lady Charlotte.”
“She is indeed immensely kind,” warbled Miss Darby. “I was concerned at first she may not be disengaged, for she is in the top set of society in Bath, but when I asked her…”
Well, at least Miss Darby had this for her, thought William. Whoever married her would never be short of conversation. She was talented enough to continue all by herself, without needing anyone else to contribute.
Another yawn threatened to surface, but he quashed it. He was in polite society, and it wouldn’t do to be rude. But then, what did it matter? There were still countless, tedious women whom he had not met yet.
Allowing his gaze to wander lazily across the wedding scene, something stopped it in its tracks.
A woman. She was tall, slim, with chestnut hair and gray eyes, dressed in the grayest gown he had ever seen. She was watching him.
Realizing she had been caught, she looked away with a pretty blush, eyes downcast. William stared. It was the bridesmaid from the wedding, the sister of the groom. Lady Caroline, perhaps—no. Lady Charlotte, that was what Miss Darby had said.
Lady Charlotte.He had barely noticed her before, for she was wearing such drab clothes. Out here in the fading sunlight, everyone else looked overdressed with their diamonds and feathers and furs. She looked perfect.
She was listening to an admiral, by the look of his dress uniform. The more William looked, the more strange it was that he had not been drawn to her. No, she did not capture the eye of every gentleman, but she was elegant. No young thing, but a woman of maturity and strength—and with a figure to match.
Parts of William stirred that had not been awoken by Miss Darby.
Lady Charlotte looked at him again. So, she had noticed him, too. All the better.
There was that blush again, and it was deeper this time. After speaking a few quiet words with her companions, she stepped away from them and started moving toward the house.
Ah, so she wanted to speak with him. She could be just as dreary as the rest of them. Better to find out now if she had any wit about her, then he could dismiss her from his mind.
William stepped forward to follow her, but Lady Charlotte surprised him. She did not slow down or change her direction to allow him to catch up.
She kept walking and had not intended him to follow her at all. She was actually going into the house!
William chuckled and received some strange looks from the ladies around him who were still, remarkably, listening to Miss Darby.
Not every woman was all about the tricks. He shook his head, thrilled by the surprise. What an intriguing woman, beautiful but with no flirtation in her. No assumptions, no rule-breaking. Just a woman.
“Miss Darby,” he found himself saying, unsure exactly why he was asking and ignoring the affronted look on her face as he interrupted her. “Tell me about Lady Charlotte.”
“Lady Charlotte?” Miss Darby frowned. “Why?”
Too late, William remembered it was not gentlemanly to appear interested in another woman when speaking with a woman you have just engaged for a social outing.
“Because I would like to thank her for accompanying us next week,” he said with a hint of a smile as he took her hand. “Otherwise, I could not enjoy the pleasure,” he gave a gentle caress across her fingers, “of your company.”
