‘Forgive me, Miss Lucas, but upon seeing you this evening I could not resist claiming a dance.’
She wondered uneasily whether he had forgiven her for her sudden—albeit temporary—engagement to Lord Stanley.
‘I hope I have not lost your friendship, Captain. It meant a great deal to me during my first weeks here.’
‘I trust you never shall,’ he replied with a smile, though unmistakable sadness lingered beneath it.
‘Thank you.’
He hesitated briefly before speaking again.
‘I shall be frank. I was disappointed to hear of your engagement.’
Charlotte blushed. So she had not imagined his attachment after all.
‘Captain, I... it all happened so quickly,’ she said contritely.
Only a few days ago, she might have been pleased to hear such a confession. She had even entertained the notion that one day she might rekindle their connection.
Now, however, her feelings had shifted.
His once angelic good looks seemed pale, his agreeable manners strangely bland compared with—
Charlotte stopped herself abruptly.
No. Surely not.
She refused even to complete the thought. Lord Stanley had already made his views perfectly plain. He had no wish to marry her. After her rebuttal in the library, he said matrimony to her would never enter his mind again. And then there was Miss Pearson—the lady Charlotte still believed he truly preferred.
Not her.
Shame pricked sharply as she recalled the cruel words she had hurled at him during their quarrel. Why should Lord Stanley ever choose her after that?
No. Once this charade ended, the Captain would be the safer choice. Dependable. Sensible.
He might not set her heart racing—but perhaps that was precisely the point.
Charlotte offered him a faint, uncertain smile, and his expression softened at once.
‘I shall be travelling soon. Wellington’s regiment has summoned me to join them.’ His own expression dimmed slightly. ‘I had... entertained other hopes, but it seems they are not to be. Unfortunately, I must leave the house party tonight to prepare for my journey, and I may not have another opportunity to see you before I depart.’ A look of quiet regret settled over the Captain’s features.
Her heart sank. So she would lose him too. Suddenly, a future of lonely spinsterhood flashed bleakly before her eyes.
She wanted desperately to tell him the truth—that her engagement was nothing but a farce.
‘I... I—’ The words lodged helplessly in her throat.
What could she say? She was not yet at liberty to reveal the truth.
‘I do not believe... our engagement—’ she began, before stopping herself abruptly.
Concern clouded his expression at once.
‘Miss Lucas, if you are unhappy with your fiancé, you should not feel obliged to proceed.’
In a strange way, she felt relieved.
‘I am having doubts,’ she admitted carefully, hoping he might understand her meaning without forcing her to betray the truth outright. After all, tomorrow she would no longer be engaged to Lord Stanley. She did not want the Captain leaving England believing otherwise.
