That was the last thing Foxmoore needed, but Declan didn’t argue. Especially when he wanted to go over there himself. He didn’t need much to convince him it would be wonderful to spend the afternoon with the three ladies. “All right,” he agreed. “You lead the way.” He gestured toward Foxmoore.
The earl didn’t question Declan’s acquiescence. He just flicked the reins of his horse and was off toward the young ladies. Amberwood sighed and followed, and then Declan did the same. It didn’t take long for them to be upon the three ladies. Charlotte held a quilt in her hand and was spreading it over the ground for them to sit upon.
“Hello, ladies,” Foxmoore greeted them.
Charlotte seemed to be making an attempt at pretending he wasn’t there. She wouldn’t look in his direction. Not that he blamed her. He had been an arse at their last meeting. Even he could recognize that fact, though he’d had his reasons. It was for her own good to dislike him. She’d be less likely to attempt to wander into his garden again now. Though admittedly, he was disappointed that she’d given up so easily.
“Hello,” a girl Declan didn’t recognize said. She had brown hair streaked with gold and a guileless smile that was refreshing. “We probably shouldn’t be talking with you.” She turned toward Lady Jaclyn. “Isn’t that right?”
“It isn’t prudent to have a conversation with gentlemen we are not acquainted with.” Lady Jaclyn shrugged lightly. “However, that one is Lord Easton. He owns the estate that borders Havenwood.” She glared at him. “He made some of his displeasures known recently. I’m not certain why he is even here and not on his land.”
He hadn’t made any friends there, either. Declan sighed. “Perhaps we should begin again.” He wanted to speak with Charlotte, but he did not want to be obvious about it. “We were...” Declan considered his words carefully. “Surprised by our encounter with you at the pond, and it had to be addressed. I may have come off a bit harsh in my concerns.”
Charlotte met his gaze and slowly lifted a brow mocking him. “Pretty words, my lord,” she said in a serene tone that belied the fire in her eyes. “I’m not so certain we should believe them.” She held his gaze as she spoke. “But in the interest of keeping things peaceful, I will reluctantly accept your non-apology.”
“Non-apology?” It was his turn to lift a brow. He didn’t know such a thing existed. “I don’t follow.”
“You didn’t apologize at all, but it almost sounded like one. But I’m no fool, my lord.” She smiled, but it wasn’t a pleasant tiltof her lips. It was almost feral. “Your sort doesn’t feel remorse and rarely, if ever, tells another person they’re sorry.”
She had some strong feelings about him. He had truly taken a wrong turn with her. He should have kissed her, because now he might never have that opportunity again. “That is true. I don’t apologize when I am not in the wrong to begin with. You should not have been near the pond, Lady Charlotte. But I did handle the aftermath poorly.”
“The almost apology with qualifiers.” She grinned. “But we need not dissect it when it won’t aid us in furthering our acquaintance.”
Lady Jaclyn laughed. “Do we want to do that?” She stared at the duke with as much hatred as Charlotte’s voice had held when she spoke to Declan. What had he missed there? Amberwood’s gaze seemed to be glued to Jaclyn as well. He would have to ask the duke about that later. Now was not the time.
“I would not want to disappoint Mrs. Havenwood,” Charlotte said. “So yes, we will be cordial with Lord Easton and his guests.”
Foxmoore dismounted and walked over to them, keeping the reins of his horse in his hands. “May we join you on your picnic?” he asked the lady that Declan hadn’t been introduced to. She glanced away from him. This chit was not like Jaclyn and Charlotte. She was the opposite of those two. Where they were brazen, she was demure.
“We haven’t been properly introduced,” the young lady said, not quite meeting Foxmoore’s gaze.
“Then we should rectify that.” Foxmoore grinned. “I’m the Earl of Foxmoore,” he told her. “That gentleman glaring at us is the Marquess of Easton, and the other one is the Duke of Amberwood.” He bowed before her. “I would be pleased to join you, Lady...”
“Miss,” she corrected him. “I’m Miss Georgina Williams.”
Well, he had a name to go with the girl now. He met Charlotte’s gaze. “Can we join you?”
“I suppose,” she told him. “Our fare might not be to your standards. We did not expect to share any of it.”
“Whatever you have will be acceptable.” He didn’t really care what they had brought to eat. He only wanted the pleasure of her company. He had a lot to undo with her.
“Then by all means,” Charlotte said. “Join us, my lord.” She turned her attention to Amberwood. “Your Grace. It would be our pleasure to share our lowly picnic with all of you.”
“Thank you,” Amberwood said to Charlotte. He pointedly ignored Jaclyn, and she did the same.
The quilt wasn’t quite big enough for all of them, so Declan took a blanket from one of his saddle bags. It was small and rough, but would do for this. They all settled down for the picnic. He prayed they survived it. So far the outcome was uncertain, but he had hopes. At least there were others around so he wasn’t tempted to kiss Charlotte.
He still wanted to, and suspected he always would. But now wasn’t the time to give in to that desire. This picnic would be enough. But later... he would press his lips to hers and hear her moans of pleasure. He nearly groaned as he thought about how much he wanted her. Damn, he was a fool. A fool that desired an innocent miss. Especially as he knew exactly what that would mean for his future.
Chapter Eight
Charlotte wanted toscream. It wouldn’t help, and in fact, would probably ensure the situation would be far worse than its current state. The Marquess of Easton and his friends were joining them for their picnic. This excursion was meant to be a celebration of sorts. They had been set free from the confines of the castle and given permission to leave the school grounds. The rain had stopped, and the gloomy skies had disappeared.
Instead of enjoying the sunshine, she had to spend the afternoon in the company of the marquess. Admittedly, he was still as handsome to behold as she recalled, but that did not mean she wished to be near him. His nearness made her want something that she could never have: him. He had made his feelings clear, and they had not been favorable. She had to forget about his arrogant arse. That would be impossible if she had to spend any amount of time in his company.
“Charlotte,” Jaclyn said. “Are you not hungry?”
Her appetite had disappeared the moment the three gentlemen had joined them for their picnic. She should eat something for appearances’ sake, though. Charlotte didn’t want her friends to worry overmuch about her. They would continue to ask questions if she failed to partake in their picnic fare. She perused the offerings that Georgina had packed and selected some cheese and bread. She met Jaclyn’s gaze and smiled. “I’m famished,” she lied, then took a bite of the cheese. Charlottechewed in slow, deliberate bites and swallowed. It tasted foul in her mouth, but she forced herself to eat more of it, and the bread. “You don’t appear to be enjoying your food,” the marquess drawled. “Perhaps you should try something else.”
