But what if Hugh doesn’t come? What if he turned against her after learning her identity? What would they do about Lucas then?
Hugh watched asLucas led Charlotte to the dance floor. Her posture was stiff, and her face deadpan. She’d obviously accompanied him against her will.
Hugh clenched his jaw as he watched Lucas slip his arm around Charlotte’s waist, join hands with her, and lead her around the ballroom floor in a waltz. It seemed like an eternity before the dance ended, and Lucas escorted her back to her mother. Lucas then bowed to the ladies and departed. Hugh thought this particularly strange. It was unlikely that the man would be happy with just one dance—unless he’d been promised an audience later. No doubt, Charlotte and her mother had promised him whatever was necessary to make him go away. But there was no time to lose pondering Lucas’s motivations. He had to get to Charlotte before another suitor accosted her.
Her eyes widened as he approached her, and then her sweet lips curved into a smile.
Hugh’s heart swelled upon realizing his coming to her had made her happy. A few days ago, he had no idea she existed, andtoday her happiness meant everything to him.Love is a mystery—a wondrous mystery of the heart.
“Miss Rose.” He bowed.
“Mr. Warsham,” she said. “What a pleasure it is to see you again.”
Hugh didn’t answer—couldn’t answer. He was too busy gazing at her—marveling at seeing her unveiled face up close. Finally, he could look into her eyes and see that they were large, expressive, and the most beautiful pale green. Her hair, which she’d styled in a pretty chignon, was the most unusual mixture of gold and red—the color of strawberries, champagne, and sunlight to be precise—and it complemented her pale skin perfectly. She was, without question, exquisite, like a rare and once-in-a-lifetime flower. He could think of no better moniker for her than ‘the Rose of Mayfair.’”
“Allow me to introduce my mother, Lady Rose,” she said.
Hugh had to force his eyes off Charlotte as he turned to bow in greeting to Charlotte’s mother. He saw in her a beautiful, more mature version of her daughter and immediately felt endeared to her.
“Mr. Warsham, how delightful to meet you. You are the masculine image of your lovely mother.”
“Thank you, my lady,” he said.
“I came to ask if you are free to dance,” he said, turning back to Charlotte.
“As a matter of fact, I am,” she said, despite seeing Lord Lipman, the man who was next on her card, approaching. “But do, let’s hurry.”
Hugh took her arm and led her toward the ballroom floor, passing by a very confused-looking Lord Lipman.
“I was afraid you would not come,” she said as they stepped onto the ballroom floor.
Hugh clasped her hand in his and slipped his arm around her waist, momentarily closing his eyes to savor the feel of her.
“How could you doubt me?” He opened his eyes and gazed at her lovely face. It felt as though he’d been in a wonderful dream.
“I thought you might be cross because—well, because of the game.”
“You mean the one my mother conjured up in the hopes of putting the feud to rest?”
“I shouldn’t have—”
“Shh,” he whispered. “I have nothing but gratitude in my heart for my mother. Bringing us together was simply her way of trying to right the past. She is a wild romantic, so it doesn’t surprise me she thought the scheme would work.”
“And did it?”
“Yes,” he said, gazing down at her.
“The man who saw me last night in the garden—”
“Lucas Richmond. I know. Mrs. Dove-Lyon told me all about him.”
“He’s here.” Her forehead creased, and it pained to see her so perturbed.
“I know that too. I saw him dance with you.”
“I didn’t want to, but he threatened to ruin my reputation by telling everyone what he witnessed last night.”
Hugh recollected the odious creature—a beady-eyed rogue with flaming red hair—who trespassed on their privacy and chased Charlotte from his arms. The thought of his continued interference with Charlotte’s—withtheir—happiness made his stomach churn.
