Resolutely, she pushed the thought aside.
Everything was far too complicated for romantic fantasies, and she inwardly scolded herself for entertaining them at all.
‘I hope you enjoy the outing, Captain. Perhaps there will even be an opportunity for shooting,’ she said, signalling the end of their conversation and attempting to walk away.
‘And will you be joining us tomorrow, Miss Lucas?’ There was a hopeful note in his voice now.
‘Oh, I fear not.’ Charlotte suppressed an entirely foolish flicker of pleasure at his attention. ‘I must attend to Tom. Besides, governesses do not generally join house-party excursions.’
‘Nonsense. I shall speak to Mrs Wilberforce myself. I am certain she may spare you for an afternoon. Tom may accompany us as well.’
Charlotte inclined her head politely.
Would it truly be so terrible to allow herself one small indulgence?
At that moment, Wolverton sauntered over and lounged against the mantelpiece. The air around them seemed to turn cold at once.
She tried to ignore him, but alas, he appeared determined to engage her.
‘Miss Lucas,’ he drawled, ‘you possess quite an extraordinary talent. Wherever did you learn to command women—and men—so completely?’
‘I am sure I do not know your meaning, sir,’ she replied, more sharply than she intended, fully aware of the lecherous implication behind his remark.
‘Oh, come now, I merely meant to compliment you.’ His smile curved unpleasantly. ‘Surely you do not take offence.’
His eyes shifted lazily towards the Captain.
‘Enjoy her company, Captain. One never knows when another gentleman may decide to claim her.’
He took out his snuff box and inhaled deeply.
Charlotte grimaced, though she was uncertain whether from his innuendo or the revolting habit itself.
‘Excuse me—disgusting vice, I know.’
Charlotte’s eyes caught upon the lid.
The same rose. And there, curling around the stem, the winding vine.
A chill crept through every inch of her skin as she was reminded of his darker deeds.
Not wishing to remain in his company a moment longer, Charlotte excused herself from the drawing room. She had nearly reached the stairs when a voice halted her.
Lord Stanley.
‘Miss Lucas, a word.’
He gestured towards the study, and after only the briefest hesitation, she followed him inside.
The door closed quietly behind them.
Ordinarily she might have protested, but the grim set of his features discouraged argument. He stood before her, every inch the austere baron once more.
‘You must take greater care not to attract so much attention. Wolverton was watching you closely this evening.’
Charlotte bit back her irritation before replying.
‘I could hardly avoid it when you were the one who proposed the reading.’
