“Hardly unpleasant.” Lady Louise blinked, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. “Quite happy, actually. Philip would have been well pleased with you for our Charity.”
Neville’s mind grappled with the words she had just spoken. First, he wondered why a deceased would-be uncle should be so concerned over Charity’s future. And then, quite a few things dawned on his overwhelmed mind at once.
OurCharity, Lady Louise had said.
The resemblance between Charity and Lady Louise.
The similarity in spirit between the two ladies, at least according to Charity’s aunt.
The interest Lady Louise had taken in him and in Charity’s affairs.
“Our Charity?” he repeated. “I beg your pardon, madam, but are you saying what I think you are saying?”
Lady Louise’s smile took on a mournful quality. “And what is it that you think I am saying, my dear?”
Was he wrong? Suggesting the suspicion which had risen in his mind seemed terribly insulting to utter. Moreover, it was hardly his business. Even should Charity agree to become his wife, he was beyond the point of caring about propriety. Why he had ever been so concerned before was apparent to him now.
He had never beenin love.
The question he wished to ask her remained lodged in his throat.
“Have you shared your feelings with Charity?” Lady Louise asked, perhaps taking pity on him and guiding their dialogue in a different, safer direction.
He shifted once more. “Not precisely.”
“I understand.” Charity’s aunt leaned forward, patting the top of his right hand, which he realized was gripping the arm of his chair so tightly, his knuckles stood in relief. “She has persuaded herself she will neither fall in love nor marry.”
This was news, and most unwelcome, to Neville.
“She has?”
Lady Louise winced. “Oh dear. I can see that I have spoken out of turn. Just how new is your understanding with her?”
Understanding? He had none. That was the bloody reason for this meeting. He was beginning to suspect Charity’s kindly Aunt Louise was mad.
But then, mayhaphewas the mad one. How else to explain the situation in which he found himself currently embroiled? There seemed no other rationalization.
“I was seeking your approval first, madam,” he told Lady Louise stiffly. “As you are her chaperone and I wished to proceed properly…”
He allowed his words to trail away then, for what a despicable lie he had just uttered. There was nothing at all proper about the manner in which he had proceeded. Imagine telling Lady Louise that he had spent inside her niece. That even now, his child could be growing in Charity’s womb.
The notion of a child did not disturb him in the slightest. Rather, it filled Neville with a curious warmth in his chest and an incipient pang of…longing? Hope? He could not be sure, and now was hardly the time to investigate his feelings.
“Oh,” Lady Louise said then, a wealth of feeling behind that lone word. “I see.”
Blast.That hardly sounded promising.
He sighed. “What is it you are not telling me, my lady?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly.
Too quickly.
And then she added, “Charity is quite headstrong. I was hoping that if you wished an audience with me, it meant that she had already reached the decision on her own.”
No, he had requested the audience because he had quite despicably—and deliciously—compromised her niece the day before. But Neville was not entirely a fool, and he kept that bit to himself.
“Forgive me, if you please,” he said, struggling for the proper words. “This is the first time I have ever asked a lady to marry me. I would have read a book about it before going about the task, but there was none to be found in the Fangfoss library.”
