He gave her his slight smile and added, “Although I do love riding and everything about horses. I am as happy in the stables as in the courtroom. More so, in fact. We have an estate in Wiltshire where I raise them. It’s a joy. And I don’t mind brushing them or cleaning their hoofs or any of that, by the way.”
He had surprised her. “We have a country house, too,” she told him. “But we don’t raise anything there except flowers and some chickens.”
They both chuckled. Then, as the carriage started to roll, he said, “I’m going to pull down the shades, because with the interior lamps lit, we are on display like actors on the stage.”
“Of course.” She wasn’t alarmed in the least. “I don’t want to be taken as a doxy again, do I?” Charlotte meant it in jest, but his expression turned serious.
“I am an idiot,” he said. “I should have brought one of the maids with us. Again, we are risking your reputation.”
She shrugged. “No matter, my lord. I will put my hood up when I get out. Will that help?”
His eyes widened. “You take your reputation too lightly, Miss Rare-Foure. And I became complacent because, in truth, you are so easy to talk to and such a good companion, even with my father, that I felt as if I were in fact taking a friend home. Not a woman.”
Not a woman!She sat back in her seat feeling a little deflated.
He shook his head, looking chagrinned. “That did not come out as intended at all. Obviously, you are a woman. And a lovely one. And I did invite you out before,” he reminded her.
“But not twice,” she said quietly, deciding in the security of the carriage when they could talk privately to determine the reason. After all, if she had made a bad impression on a man, making it easy for him to forget about her, as had now occurred with both Lionel and Charles, then she had best find out why.
“I had a splendid time,” she confessed, “and then I never saw you afterward. You must not have had such a good evening.”
“I did,” he said quickly, then sighed, “Except....”
When he left her hanging, Charlotte leaned forward, the edges of the two volumes pushing into her ribs.What was the exception?Her laughter? The way she drank her champagne too quickly at the intermission? Perhaps how she’d clapped too long at the end of the play?
“You whistled before the play started,” Lord Jeffcoat said. “It was ... unsettling. And it wasn’t the first time I’ve heard it. You did it that day in your shop, the day you hired young Edward.”
“I whistled,” she repeated, recalling how many times her mother had warned her not to do so in public. Felicity Rare-Foure was always right.
“Everyone in the theatre heard it,” Lord Jeffcoat continued, “and looked at us.”
“Oh,” she said, her glance falling to her lap. She’d humiliated the viscount, and now she was mortified. Charlotte blinked, sitting back against the squabs and feeling close to tears.
“And then you invited your sister and her husband to join us. First, at the intermission and then into my box. If Mr. Carson hadn’t had his own carriage, I’m certain you would have had them drive back with us, too.”
Her gaze snapped up to his when she realized the import of his words. “You don’t like my sister?”
“No!” he exclaimed.
She recoiled from the man who didn’t appreciate a member of her family.
He waved his hands at her expression. “I mean, no, you areincorrect. It is not that at all. Although, to be fair, of the three of you, she is by far and away the most direct in manner, some might even say short-tempered.”
Her anger started to boil. “Beatrice is the smartest person I know, and a good judge of character, which you, apparently, are not! She simply has a low tolerance for fools. And while you are reading Ainsworth,” she plopped the books onto the leather seat beside her, no longer interested in borrowing them, “my sister is reading the works of Homer in the original Greek, and theHistory of Britainin ... in Anglo-Saxon dialect, or whatever it is.”
“Probably Latin,” he provided.
Undaunted by his helpful interruption, she added, “Your father would surely approve of her!”
“Miss Rare-Foure,” Lord Jeffcoat began. This time, he was the one to lean forward since she was still angling away from him. “I believe you misunderstood me. I do not know your sister well enough to dislike her, nor was I meaning to cast aspersions upon her character. She does seem bright, indeed, and beloved by you and the duchess each time I’ve seen you all together.”
Suddenly, he reached out and took her hand in his. “However, on the night in question, I was hoping to get to know you better and to have time alone with you, despite the presence of your maid. Yet you seemed to have no interest in doing the same with me. Thus, I decided, if I did not merit your curiosity, nor your attention, then I would not put you through another evening with me.”
“Oh!” She blinked at him, and he slowly drew her forward again, her hand clasped in his.
“Tonight, was enjoyable. I would say it was fun,” he added, as the mood between them shifted. “Both before my father interrupted us and even, surprisingly, afterward.”
She nodded. Charlotte couldn’t deny she’d enjoyed her time alone with him at dinner and also in conversation with the earl. She’d been at ease the entire time. More than that, she’d been interested ... and attracted, each time Charles gave her a thoughtful look or his not-quite-there smile.
