He stared at her.
She adopted her deepest, silliest baritone. “A gentleman always pays his debts. And as I am, on occasion, a gentleman…”
He laughed. “You have come to pay it at midnight?”
“I daresay I do my best work at night, Mr Deverell,” she said in Mr Charleston’s voice. “Though I should not like to examine that statement too closely.”
He stood slowly, still watching her closely. “Gibbons is going to extort me for the rest of his natural life.”
“Then he shall have something to occupy him in retirement.”
She stepped further into the room. Her heart was beating a little too hard for her liking, which was absurd.
“I take it, then, that Bellamy’s did not entirely cure you of my company.”
“Bellamy’s cured me of several things. Port, for one. Men altogether, very nearly. Dukes, absolutely.”
“A pity. I thought the evening ended rather well.”
She snorted inelegantly. “You won a great deal of money, whereas I was imprisoned in a carriage with Langley and Morleigh while they took turns being morally wounded. Then I was sick into the street.”
Jasper winced. “Ah.”
“Yes. Ah.”
“In my defence, Mr Charleston bore himself with remarkable fortitude until the very end.”
“That is true, I suppose. But now Mr Charleston is to be handed off like a parcel to whichever titled idiot presents himself first with an income not visibly encumbered by debt.”
His expression shifted. “What are you talking about?”
“My sisters,” she said bitterly. “And my mother. Georgie’s damned lists. I am to attend Lady Malverne’s wretched house party under heavy supervision and secure a proposal before the end of the Season, or else I shall be paired with some vinegar-scented viscount who speaks entirely in hunting metaphors.”
Jasper’s brow furrowed. “A proposal.”
“Yes. Apparently my future has been placed upon a timetable.”
“And you came here because—”
“Because I should like to choose my own disaster, thank you very much. And I suppose we shall be supervised too closely at the garden party for you to claim your forfeit there. Apparently, I am such a source of alarm that I now require full chaperonage by both parents and a duke who glowers like the world personally offended him. I should scarcely be permitted to sneeze without commentary! And why? Because I lost a wager and drew on a moustache and had the gall toenjoy myself.”
She began pacing, throwing her hands around in animation. “And now I am to be paraded at Lady Malverne’s blasted garden party like a prize heifer before auctioneers at a cattle fair!”
“Charlotte—”
“I am not finished!” she snapped. “I amthisclose to being married off to the son of a marquess who collects antique bird skulls and calls his mother ‘Mummy’ in public!”
He ran a hand through his hair. “You are being very unreasonable.”
“Oh,am I?“ Her voice rose. “Forgive me for intruding upon your tranquil evening, my lord. Clearly I ought to have made an appointment before throwing myself at your mercy. I should have arrived at tea, perhaps. In a cravat. With a calling card and a fainting couch!”
“You barged into my house,” he said, exasperated. “Atmidnight.”
“Yes!” she shouted. She was breathless now, her voice pitched with a kind of defiant panic. “Do you know what it is to be watched? Every step, every glance, every word scrutinised for impropriety, dissected for scandal? No, of course you do not. You may drink brandy in your chambers, lose fortunes at cards, disappear into half the clubs in London, and be called charming for it. If I do it, the full machinery of family honour falls upon my head!”
“I did not mean to…” Jasper began, taking a step closer. “I’ve been trying to write… to explain… that I wish to—“
“Oh,do notbegin with explanations! Everyone has an explanation. ‘It is for your protection, Lottie.’ ‘You shall thank us one day, dearest’ ‘It is only a dance, Charlotte.’ But now it is no longer a dance, is it? It is marriage. A life sentence!”
