That is all. Then why exactly do I dislike seeing other men admire her?
Victor immediately rejected the thought. Nonsense.
“Your Grace?”
Charlotte’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.
He glanced toward her. “Hm?”
“You are glaring at that poor man,” she whispered.
Victor blinked. “Which man?”
“The one speaking to Lady Ashford.”
Victor realized abruptly he had indeed been staring murderously at a harmless gentleman across the foyer. Why? Because that man had been eyeing Charlotte since they arrived.
“I was not glaring,” he said.
Charlotte raised one brow. “You looked moments away from challenging him to pistols.”
Victor adjusted his cuffs calmly. “Perhaps his face offends me.”
To his irritation, Charlotte laughed softly. The sound caught him off guard again.
“You are impossible,” she murmured.
“And yet you continue standing beside me,” he smirked at her.
“I have little choice in the matter, though it has not escaped my attention that this has become your favorite phrase… You continue to stand beside me, or continue to stay,” she teased.
Have I said this so often?
Victor furrowed his brow slightly. Then he offered her his arm as an attempt to distract from the subject. Charlotte hesitated only briefly before accepting it. The warmth of her gloved fingers against his sleeve sent another deeply unwelcome awareness through him.
Damnation.
“Smile,” Victor murmured quietly.
Lord and Lady Pembroke arrived. “Mulford,” Lord Pembroke greeted warmly. “Congratulations.”
Victor responded automatically now. “There has been some misunderstanding.”
“Indeed,” Pembroke agreed cheerfully. “My wife and I had precisely the same misunderstanding before our wedding.”
Charlotte looked ready to surrender entirely. Lady Pembroke squeezed Charlotte’s hand sympathetically. “Men always pretend reluctance at first.”
Victor stared blankly as the couple moved along.
“This is becoming unbearable,” Charlotte whispered.
Victor looked toward his grandmother once more. Elizabeth sat happily surrounded by acquaintances while proudly discussing wedding flowers with alarming enthusiasm.
He sighed. “We shall never correct this tonight. I believe we are making it worse,” he admitted.
Charlotte looked stricken. “Then what do we do?”
Victor should have answered sensibly. Instead, his gaze drifted briefly across her face illuminated beneath the opera lights. The yellow gown suited her absurdly well. Her eyes remained bright despite obvious distress, and the soft flush in her cheeks only made her more noticeable.
