Page 8 of Always the Chaperone
The carriage came to a stop.
“Oh, are we here! Goodness, that was no time at all, and I have barely had the chance to tell you…”
To Charlotte’s relief, the carriage door opened, and a hand with a golden ring extended toward her. It had a swirled letterMaround what appeared, upside down, to be a bird. A magpie? Charlotte took the hand but dropped it immediately. Even through her silk gloves, she could feel the heat pouring from the hand to hers.
“Are you feeling well, Lady Charlotte?” Miss Darby’s face was a wash of concern.
Charlotte swallowed. It was her imagination. It was not possible to feel such intensity through gloves! The hand was still outstretched, and she took it again, trying to ignore the rush of warmth that once again filled her. She stepped out—into the waiting smile of William Lennox.
“Good evening, my lady,” he said.
Rarely did Charlotte have no response. She dropped his hand immediately but could still feel the spark of his touch. As though they had held hands for an age.
“I trust you are well?” He was still grinning, almost laughing as if he had told a joke.
Charlotte steeled herself. She would not allow herself to be a joke. The street was busy, teeming with opera lovers excitedly awaiting their turn to enter the building and find their seats, and it was time for a new set of lovers to take their place.
“Here, Miss Darby, let me help you.” Charlotte turned and offered a hand for her young companion, who tripped on her gown as she exited the coach and was caught in the strong arms of the duke.
“Oh, Your Grace, how embarrassing for me!” Miss Darby fluttered her eyelashes.
Charlotte scrunched her nose and tried not to tut aloud.Really!She did not consider herself a prude, but such behavior—and on the street, too, where anyone could see!
She cast a quick glance at the duke to see his response to such a flirtatious move and was surprised to see Miss Darby already out of his arms and standing between the two brothers.
“Shall we?” The duke indicated toward the opera house doors, offering his arm, which Miss Darby gladly took.
As the couple walked, Charlotte fell in behind them alongside the Marquess of Gloucester.
“My, what a wonderful place! And to think, though my father and I have been in Bath a month, we have not been here! It does not seem quite right that we should come all this way for the Season and not even try some of its delights,” Miss Darby began ahead of them.
Charlotte sighed and forced a smile. “Good evening, Lord Gloucester.”
“Good evening, Lady Charlotte, and please call me John. I have had the title for but a short time, and it does not sit well with me,” he said in a low tone. “It was only last year my brother and I even discovered we had a little blue in our veins, and I am just a simple soldier.”
He grinned, and Charlotte nodded. He had the same easy manner as his brother—a consequence, perhaps, of not being raised in the rigor and restrictions of her class.
“Well then, John,” she said lightly, “if you are truly happy for me to speak so familiarly, I will call you by your Christian name, though it is rather shocking.”
He chuckled. “Fear not, I will continue to speak to you as Lady Charlotte, as decorum insists. If I forget, whack me on the nose. It is the only way I will learn.”
Charlotte laughed. She had not expected any merriment this evening, and though he had none of the attraction of his brother, she could not deny John was good company.
His attention was now focused before them. “Have you ever seen anything so lovely as Miss Darby?”
The words could have been taken as an ironic quip, but as they walked into the candlelit entranceway, all covered in red velvet and gold, Charlotte saw, to her surprise, that there was sincerity in his words and the flush of excitement in his cheeks.
She raised an eyebrow.
“You do not need to speak,” John said ruefully, “I know what you will say. It is shameful to say such things about the young lady my brother is courting.”
His jaw tightened as his eyes flickered over to his brother’s companion. Charlotte followed his gaze, and as Miss Darby tilted back her head to laugh at something the duke had said.
Charlotte took the younger man’s arm. “If something is on your heart, John, then you should say it. I would not wish you to miss out on a chance of happiness for an excess of decorum.”
They ascended the steps as Miss Darby leaned closer to the duke, and Charlotte felt the tension in John’s arm.
“If you do not say something, you will regret it,” she murmured so only her companion could hear her.
