“Ah.” He waggled his brows.
Charley pinched back another smile.
“And?”
“It will move our courtship forward.”
“You certainly are persistent.” Which was precisely why his idea was not a good one, and yet… she couldn’t completely resist his suggestion. “I will think about it.”
Lord Westerley escorted her back to the drawing room, where she immediately excused herself. His company was… potent and she had already spent more time than she ought with him. Even so, as the afternoon turned to evening, she found herself unable to focus on anything else—until, that was, the performance began.
Sitting between Tabetha and Felicity on polished chairs that had been set out in lines, Charley peered up at the chandeliers that glowed above and allowed the notes to wash over her. A quartet of stringed instruments seemed to dance around the room, literally bringing it to life.
These musicians were nothing like the country learned fiddlers she’d listened to while growing up. Dressed to the nines, the four gentlemen didn’t miss a note. In fact, they played their instruments in much the manner as most people drew breath.
Smooth when it should be smooth, soft and then loud and all in perfect synchronicity. She even closed her eyes and became so transfixed by the music that she was jolted back to her surroundings when the guests around her broke into a round of applause.
A hand tapped her shoulder. “May I procure a drink for you, Miss Jackson?” Baron Chaswick’s pale blue gaze took her somewhat off guard. She’d heard the other gentlemen address him by the unusual name of Chase.
She hadn’t even realized that these particular gentlemen had taken their seats behind her. Lord Westerley on one side, watching her with not quite a half smile and another, the man with the facial scar who reminded her of a sort of gentle giant, next to him—the viscount.
But for Lord Westerley, she had difficulty keeping them straight. Although, their numbers had decreased, she noticed, the duke fellow being notably absent.
“That would be lovely, Lord Chaswick,” Tabetha answered for her. “And Westerley, I believe Lady Felicity would appreciate a refreshment as well.”
Charley watched as Lord Westerley turned a kind disposition toward the lovely blonde lady seated on Charley’s opposite side. “Your wishes are our commands. You too, Beth?” He raised his brows in Bethany’s direction as both he and Lord Chaswick rose and edged their way out from between the chairs.
The trouble with someone like Lord Westerley was that he was so good at being kind and charming that a lady could quite easily believe he was flirting with her.
“Every time I listen to your brother, I am more impressed with his playing,” Bethany addressed Mr. Spencer.
“Your brother is one of the musicians?” Ah yes, the second Mr. Spencer was the other missing gentleman. Charley glanced over at the dais. She had been so delighted by their playing that she hadn’t recognized the actual players. In as much as she’d expected to find fault with most of what she experienced in this country, certain aspects of it were making it rather difficult.
Almost impossible.
“Peter plays the cello,” Mr. Spencer answered proudly.
Charley glanced back toward the stage. “I should have recognized him before,” she admitted ruefully.
“There are four Spencer sons in all.” Tabetha grinned. “But the heir is married.”
“As is my youngest brother Joseph, and my sister.”
Charley wondered what it would be like to belong to such a large family. “Your brother is amazing. I’ve never heard anything as beautiful.”
“He refused to play in public for a very long time. It was our sister-in-law who convinced him.”
“Lady Darlington,” Tabetha supplied and then lowered her voice. “She was once a maid!”
Bethany glared at Tabetha and Felicity changed the subject diplomatically. “We are lucky to be the beneficiaries of Lady Darlington’s persuasive abilities.” It was obvious why Lord Westerley’s family would want him to marry her. Likely, she’d make for an excellent countess.
“Did you ladies miss me?” Chaswick asked as he stepped sideways, returning to lower himself into the chair Lord Westerley had vacated. As Westerley held out a glass of lemonade toward Charley and Tabetha, the charming baron placed the drinks he carried into Bethany and Felicity’s hands.
“Such a shame a family can’t have more than one heir.” Tabetha giggled into her drink, earning a scowl from her brother.
“Thank you.” Charley accepted the glass and raised it to her lips.
“I cannot help thinking these beverages would be greatly improved upon if only Miss Jackson was willing to supply us with some of her father’s whiskey,” Mr. Spencer commented with a wink. “As it is, we’ll have to settle for the Scottish version.” He removed a flask from inside his coat and toasted it in her direction.
