“Mama!” she whispered urgently.
“I see him, my sweet. Don’t fret. All you need do is hold your head high and act as though nothing is amiss. He mustn’t detect any fear in your countenance.” Her words were strong, but Charlotte noted a tremble in her mother’s voice.
Hugh concealed himselfby standing near a cluster of people as he watched her from a distance—just as she had done to him that first night they’d met. She was as exquisite as he remembered from the brief glimpse he’d been afforded in the garden. He’d felt her features and the memory of their touch corresponded with what he now saw—pert nose; plump, rosy lips; pale skin. He wished he could see the color of her eyes and read their expression, but he was too far away.
“Don’t waste your time on that one, old fellow.” Brunswick appeared at Hugh’s side. “They call her ‘the Rose of Mayfair,’ and she rejected countless men during her first two seasons. No one need sign up for that beating.”
An image of a line of suitors proposing to Charlotte formed in Hugh’s mind, causing a searing heat to rise in his chest. “Well, she hasn’t rejected me,” he said.
“Yet.” Brunswick smirked. “If you ask me, I say you stand a better chance getting something out of that little minx you met at the Lyon’s Den.”
Hugh put his arm behind his back and clenched his fist so hard that his hand ached. “Sometimes, Brunswick, I wonder how two people as different as you and I became friends.”
“You saved me from being thrashed to death in the common room at Harrow, that’s how it happened, remember? I swore to be forever grateful to you. And I have been your devoted friend ever since.”
“If that’s the case, then, do me one small favor now, and shut up!” Hugh said and strode away from his friend toward Charlotte. But he stopped short when he saw another man approaching her. He recognized the flaming copper hair of her suitor and knew immediately that it was the torchbearer from the previous night.
A nasty fellow, by the name of Lucas Richmond. Spurned by Charlotte last year, and likely looking to take revenge,Mrs. Dove-Lyon had said.Or perhaps, he’ll use what he saw last night to blackmail Charlotte and try to force her to marry him.
Charlotte kept hereyes on Lucas as he came toward her.
“Mama!” Her throat was dry with fear, and her voice came out in a whisper. She glanced at her mother who appeared to have been ambushed by Petula Musgrave. The woman was talking nonstop while her mother nodded politely.
“Mama!” she whispered urgently as Lucas approached them.
Charlotte straightened her shoulders and looked him directly in the eyes. She could not appear weak or afraid. That is exactly what he wanted.
“Cousin,” he said with an obsequious bow. “How wonderful to see you again.”
Charlotte gave no outward indication that his remark had ruffled her. “Good evening, Lucas,” she replied coolly.
“I hope you will oblige me with a waltz this evening,” he smiled, revealing a row of crooked teeth.
“I’m afraid Charlotte’s dance card is full tonight, Lucas,” Lady Rose had managed to escape Petula and intercept him. “Perhaps Charlotte will save you a dance at the next ball.”
“Lady Rose,” he said. There was a bitter edge in his tone. “Good evening. I assume Sir Benedict escorted you ladies here tonight.” He glanced around. “He’s not ill, I hope. I heard he has been having some trouble with his heart of late.”
Lady Rose’s spine stiffened, and she narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know where you heard that. I can assure you that Sir Benedict is in perfect health.”
“Excellent.” Lucas’s thin lips curled into a half sneer. “Let us hope that is still the case after I inform him that his precious daughter was seen fornicating with a man at the home of a notorious gambling proprietor.”
Charlotte drew in her breath. “How dare you spread such a vicious lie!” she said through gritted teeth. “If you think my papa will entertain your falsehoods, you are sadly misled.”
“Don’t takemyword for it, dear cousin. My friend Lord Umbridge saw you as clearly as I did, and he will be more than happy to verify my story. He is the second son of a viscount, and his word will not be doubted.” He gave Charlotte a hard stare. “But perhaps none of that will be necessary. Perhaps you will clear your dance card and favor me with that dance after all.”
“We both know it is not only a dance you want, Lucas,” Lady Rose said, “so keep your head and try to be clever about it.”
Charlotte turned to her mama, ready to object.How could she encourage him thus?
“Charlotte will oblige you with one dance tonight, but you know as well as I that she must fulfill the promises she’s already made.”
“Not if she’s engaged to me. There’s no reason to do so.”
Charlotte was about to object when she felt her mother’s reassuring hand on her arm.
“Now, listen to me, young man. Nothing must be said about it until I speak with Sir Benedict and clear the way for you to ask for his daughter’s hand in the proper and respectable manner. We have enough feuds and do not need another in our family.”
Charlotte struggled to keep the tears from her eyes. This wasn’t real. It was only part of the plan to keep Lucas quiet. She simply had to play along for her papa’s sake—no matter how hard or hateful it might be.
