She nodded and looked to Lucas. He shook his head, and she pulled her attention back to his brother. Some deep part of his mind protested that change.
“How do you take your tea?”
Charlie waved a hand. “I am not particular. Tell me, did you, ah”—he stopped, taking in the two gentlemen. Mr. Frank Colbert and Mr. Belcher. Lucas had the barest of acquaintances with them both—“enjoy yourself last night?”
Miss Faraday ducked her head to focus on pouring the tea, but Lucas glimpsed entertainment etch across her lips before her features disappeared. “Indeed. Though I had to retire early.”
Colbert cocked his head at her. “Did you? I wondered where you’d gone off to.”
Miss Faraday nodded, handing Charlie his tea. “Yes... I suppose I was rather overwhelmed by my first ball.”
“Your first?” Mr. Frank Colbert asked.
Miss Faraday froze in the act of picking up her teacup, looking at it for a long moment before nodding. “Yes. My first.”
“Goodness,” Colbert said, leaning back and surveying her with both surprise and interest. “You cannot tell me you’ve never been to an assembly. A ball hosted by a neighbor?”
Her responding smile was tight. “Lord Tarrington’s estate is rather secluded. I haven’t had the opportunity.”
Lucas seated himself in the chair beside Charlie’s, the farthest away of the four men now apparently fighting for Miss Faraday’s attention.
“You are a wonder, Miss Faraday. Your very first ball, you say? And you danced so prettily.” Colbert leaned in as he spoke, as if to deliver his words to her ears only. But his comment carried, and they all heard it.
She gave a small laugh, but somehow it did not sound genuine. Her embarrassment was evident as she glanced at the other three men. It was an odd situation. She was having what should be a private conversation while under the eyes of three additional participants. Really, Colbert shouldn’t have put her in that position.
However, Charlie, acting either brilliant or incredibly thick, threw in his thoughts with a normally pitched voice, extending the scope of the conversation to include them all. “I am of the same mind as Colbert. No one would know that it was your first ball.”
When she met Charlie’s eyes, something sparkled within her own. Amusement. Probably that he would say such a thing knowing how her first ball truly had ended. “Thank you, Lord Charles. I am glad to have kept my secret so successfully.”
Lucas could only hope he could keep his own secrets around this woman. How long did Charlie intend to stay?
“Your guardian’s estate is secluded, you say? I had thought Tarrington’s estate was near my own family’s.” Colbert took back the reins of the conversation. The man was clearly used to having attention on himself.
“Oh? And where do you reside?” Charlie asked Colbert before Miss Faraday responded.
“Kilburn,” Colbert said, though his eyes remained on Miss Faraday.
“Tarrington Park is not half so near London as that,” was all Miss Faraday said in return.
Colbert seemed to have exhausted his range of topics, and Mr. Belcher had not uttered a word since their arrival—seemingly preferring to watch Miss Faraday’s every movement as if she were a particularly sweet pastry and he a starving man.
Lucas was not used to having to fill the silence. He preferred silence—welcomed it. If a conversation lulled, he took it as an opportunity to take his leave. But they’d hardly stayed five minutes, and he still had not discovered if Miss Faraday had suffered from the events of the ball—his one actual goal for the visit.
In an effort to find something to do, his gaze swept over the drawing room. It was far different from his mother’s. Hers was light and bright—filled with creams and light greens. Lord Tarrington’s was dark. Deep reds and dark golds made up the upholstery, and the window hangings were heavy and blocked a great deal of light.
And then he caught sight of Miss Faraday’s expression.
She seemed panicked.
He was not certain why he was able to decipher that emotion from the downturn of her mouth and the minuscule darting back and forth of her eyes as she stared at her empty cup of tea, but he knew it in a moment. A lurch in his chest much like the one that had occurred on his entering the room had him wanting to erase that panicked look from her expression.
Before he could fully think it through—which was wholly uncharacteristic of him—he said, “Miss Faraday, would you care for a turn about the room?” Dash it all. That was certainly one of the most foolish offers he’d ever made. This was just one reason that he strove for more control, usually it kept him from beinghurt or hurting others, but it had the added benefit of keeping him from making an embarrassment of himself.
Her startled eyes met his, their widening communicating not only her surprise but her gratitude.
“I imagine you have been at home to several visitors and would perhaps appreciate a... ah... bit of exercise,” he explained.
“How thoughtful of you, Lord Berkeley. I would indeed.”
