Page 10 of How to Tempt a Duke

When he straightened, she offered a stiff nod and said, “I’m pleased to meet you.”

Her speech and manners were immaculate. Everything was as expected in polite society, except perhaps her bold stare.

Lottie nodded to herself. “Good. Proper.” She put her finger to her lower lip. “But without feeling.”

“I assumed feelings were not necessary with strangers,” Lady Eleanor countered.

“They are when you want to encourage strangers toward matrimony.” Lottie indicated Charles. “Let your eyes linger on his, but try not to be too direct, and give a smile when you say it’s a pleasure to meet him. Convince him. He should believe everything you say.” Lottie swirled her finger in the air and said, in perfectly accented French, “Allez, on recommence.”

Charles bit back a groan. They might very well be there until morning.

“We’ll be doing this all night, I presume?” Lady Eleanor’s tone was not enthusiastic. “Being introduced ad nauseam until one of us finally pleads for mercy?”

“It will be me,” Charles volunteered with a wink. If he was going to win her over and get those journals, a sense of camaraderie might go a long way.

She shot him a bland look in response, before turning her gaze to Lottie. “This is entirely ridiculous. I won’t meet the same man over and over. It will not improve the poor image that most of the ton has of me, and nor will it change their minds. Call for my carriage.” She closed her eyes, as if the act pained her. When she opened her eyes once more, her composure was fully restored. “Please.”

“May I ask if there is something keeping you from this?” Lottie inquired. “Something you are afraid of?”

“I am afraid of nothing,” Lady Eleanor stated firmly.

Lottie’s brow pinched and she opened her mouth. But rather than offer a protest, she nodded and slipped from the room in a whisper of costly silk. A blanket of uncomfortable silence fell over the room and smothered any sense of companionship.

“You said you were skeptical.” Charles lifted the glass of untouched sherry and drained it, needing the drink far more than she. Its sweetness followed the burn of alcohol and clung cloyingly on his tongue. “Perhaps you meant pessimistic?”

She eyed him warily and backed away, clearly aware of the inappropriateness of their being alone together. “Because I’m not playing along with this preposterous charade?” she asked.

“Because you’re too afraid to even give it a chance.” He didn’t know if he was attempting to aid Lottie with this goading, or if he was doing it out of malice. Perhaps a bit of both.

Her gloved hands fingered the fabric of her skirt. “This is...abnormal.”

While he agreed, he was not about to confess as much. He was, after all, there to aid Lottie. And if the chit left now he wouldn’t have the opportunity to get the journals.

“I’ve learned that being unconventional often delivers stronger results than what is common,” he said. “You came here because you want to prove everyone wrong. Why are you letting them be proved correct?”

The muscles along her slender throat tensed. “I came here because I have no choice.”

Lottie entered the room with a man trailing behind her. “Your carriage is here. Ferdinand will see you out.”

Lady Eleanor turned her attention from Charles and allowed the footman to help her don an absurd blonde wig, as well as a mask and black domino.

Lottie did not move from her path. “I do hope you’ll reconsider.”

Lady Eleanor gave Lottie a slow nod. Without another word, the Earl of Westix’s daughter followed Ferdinand from the room.

Lottie’s composure drained away and she sank onto the settee. “Well, that was an utter failure.”

Charles watched the empty hallway where Lady Eleanor had disappeared. “I confess I fail to feel sympathy toward her—especially when she doesn’t appear to find any fault with her current demeanor.”

Lottie peeked at him through a curtain of dark hair. “You weren’t exactly welcoming. What happened to the charming Charles I once knew?”

Her words made Charles wince. He hadn’t meant his prejudice against Lady Eleanor to be so obvious. “Apparently we’ve all changed.”

Lottie pressed her lips together rather than give him the cutting reply he deserved. “Will you try to speak with her?” She gazed up at him, her expression imploring. “I cannot, but surely you can. I know she walks in Hyde Park with her mother often.”

It was on the tip of Charles’s tongue to decline—to end this foolish charade. But once more the thought of the journals swam into his mind. Damn it. Not just the journals, but finding a way to assist Lottie.

He hated seeing her like this, catering to the rich with every part of herself. She didn’t deserve this life.