“Excellent!” Lord Ainscough replied. Then his eyes filled with a worried sort of urgency. “And, of course, I do wish to introduce you to my sister once I find her. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll return with her presently.”
Charlotte curtsied in unison with her brother’s bow. They made their way toward the ballroom and exchanged stiff pleasantries with Lord Westcott. The man said hardly anything, and his tone was even more bored than her brother’s sometimes sounded. But for such a seemingly odious man, he did host an enjoyable soiree. Charlotte admired the impressive houseplants and cut flowers, a beautiful scene in front of a lavish backdrop. She tried to memorize every detail, wishing she had her charcoal so she could capture the scene now and paint it later.
Under his breath, Christopher continued to mutter who each person was and what their rank was. It felt to Charlotte as though each guest walked with imaginary pound notes or family trees hanging above their head. The only reason she and Christopher had been invited was because of how much money her family possessed and at Lord Ainscough’s behest.
Once inside the ballroom, Lord Ainscough found them, his sister at his side. She had lovely dark curls and full lips, quite different from her brother. Beside them walked another gentleman, too, with a dazzling smile and a sure-of-himself air, who seemed slightly younger than Lord Ainscough.
Christopher led them toward Lord Ainscough, who immediately bowed. “Allow me to introduce my sister, Miss Grace Ainscough, and Lord Westcott’s younger brother, Lord Jonathan Everly. This is Mr. Christopher Roylance of Newcastle and his lovely sister, Miss Charlotte Roylance.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Mr. Everly said, his manners easy.
Miss Ainscough looked eagerly toward him, and Charlotte immediately noticed the young woman’s infatuation.
Mr. Everly smiled at Miss Ainscough, but there was something in his eye that Charlotte didn’t trust. Then he glanced back at her brother. “Roylance,” he said familiarly, “I remember you from Harrow.”
Christopher beamed with the acknowledgment. “Miss Roylance,” Miss Ainscough said, “what a pleasure it is to meet a friend of my brother. He has spoken well of you.”
“He is kind.” Charlotte blushed. Lord Ainscough had already mentioned her to his sister? Charlotte would never mention any gentleman of interest to her brother.
The music soon started, and Lord Ainscough drew near Charlotte while Mr. Everly led Miss Ainscough toward the dance floor.
“Your sister seems lovely,” Charlotte offered as she placed a hand inside Lord Ainscough’s arm.
“That she is.” He smiled and searched the group until his gaze stopped at the head of the set.
There, Lord Westcott pulled to the edge of the room and analyzed the guests like a hawk peering down into a forest.
“Our host does not dance?” Charlotte questioned.
Lord Ainscough looked around and then lowered his voice. “Lord Westcott is one of my favorite people, I assure you, but I am all too aware of his first impressions. Truly, he ought to work on it. He’s quite closed in all things. He does improve with time though. He’s surly but trustworthy. He’s much better in the long run than Mr. Everly.”
“You don’t care for your sister’s interest in the man?”
Lord Ainscough patted her hand on his arm. “I am still trying to get used to the idea.”
His brow pulled low with genuine concern. This was a man who cared for his sister’s well-being. Charlotte wondered, if someone had questioned Christopher, would his answers demonstrate the same level of concern? Did he ever have her best interests at heart?
As the dance commenced, Lord Ainscough’s brilliant smile was focused on her. He possessed a handsome face and captivating manners, but something about his last comment did not sit well with her. If Lord Ainscough didn’t like the man who showed interest in his sister, shouldn’t he say something about it? Then again, she doubted Christopher would ever like someone she picked on her own. He’d be satisfied only if he orchestrated it.
The dance dictated that she draw closer to her corner partner, which was Christopher himself. Though her face carried a smile, her insides turned. With her father gone, her brother tried to run her life. She’d already had a Season without a marriage. Would Christopher decide on a match for her that there would be no escaping?
Out of her periphery she caught sight of a dark-haired head the same shade and height as Alex. She double-checked the face, which was that of a stranger, and she wondered where her mind was. Alex would never be allowed here; that was certain. But, in that moment, she did wish she were back in the town square, dancing with him. Even despite his unusual interest in her forest. That dance had felt so natural, and this one with Lord Ainscough felt forced. As she looked back at her partner, everything about him was the model of upstanding, yet somewhere within her she feared that she was quite literally walking into a trap with this man. It was clear this was who Christopher wished her to fall in love with, but Charlotte would not be duped.
Chapter 9
“Though there weren’t any gentlementhe last time we painted, I did enjoy our outing.” Lydia smiled at Charlotte as they rode to Hyde Park a few days later, the carriage filled with their requisite art supplies.
“I, for one, have to say that thelackof gentlemen is precisely why I liked our painting last time.” It meant less worry for Charlotte and, most especially, a break from Christopher’s scrutiny.
Lydia shook her head. “Your liveliness at dinner the other night speaks to the contrary. I saw the way Lord Ainscough spoke to you.” She tutted. “He was a conversationalist, was he not? And titled, too, and handsome.”
“It seemsyounoticed him quite a bit,” Charlotte countered playfully as the carriage pulled to a stop and she reached for the paint pail.
The footman opened the door and assisted the ladies with their supplies while Ellen accompanied them across the green. Once everything was situated, the servants returned to the carriage. They had taken Lydia’s equipage, but her stepfather needed it in the interim. The servants were to attend to that errand and then return when finished to wait on them.
“If you have interest in the man,” Charlotte said once they were out of earshot, “I am happy to wave my flag of surrender and turn Lord Ainscough over to you.”
Lydia’s expressive eyes betrayed her, but then she came back to herself. “Oh no, I couldn’t. It’s so clear he favors you.” She sighed. “Plus, my dowry is nothing compared to yours.” She brushed a curl away from her face.
