CHAPTER SEVEN

“I declare it was quite unseemly,” Colin’s aunt was saying to his mother as they all shared dinner together the following evening. “Lady Brentwhistle could hardly remove her daughter’s dress, but I do not believe she knew how revealing it was until the shawl about her shoulders was removed. Lady Leadbetter has not stopped speaking of the immodesty of the neckline for several days.”

Colin continued to eat his supper, listening to the ladies' chatter but unable to contribute much himself. His head was filled with ledgers and the information Bevins had revealed to him. He did not know where to begin looking for this third party. It was the only piece of information that his father had seemed to conceal. Another name had not been mentioned in any of the documents Colin had already read. He would have noticed.

Elizabeth Ludlow sat beside her mother, listening to the Duchess speak of the latest fashions and scandals in their circle. But her attention was on her cousin. Colin’s expression was carefully blank as always, but she knew him well enough to detect the worry in his eyes.

She wondered what he could have to be concerned about. He knew that his mother had been very keen for him to find a match this season; perhaps it was the pressures of matrimony? Or he might have found a lady to his liking. But Elizabeth thought it might be something else. When Colin wasn’t concentrating on keeping his mask in place a line would form between his brows that he had had as a boy. It was a line of deep worry, and only ever appeared when he had something serious to be thinking about.

As the conversation took a brief pause and the plates were cleared for dessert, Elizabeth caught Colin’s eye.

“I am going into town tomorrow, cousin; I wondered whether you might like to join me?”

Elizabeth thought that he would refuse outright. Not many men enjoyed traipsing around the shopfronts looking at bodices and silks, but Colin’s eyes lit up at the idea.

“Are you sure I would not be a little out of place? I have nothing to buy at present. Seeing my tailor is the bane of my existence, and last time we spoke, I ordered enough coats for three seasons.”

Elizabeth laughed, as did her mother. “Yes, I am quite sure. You never know; we may find something pleasant for you to buy as well. We could even visit some bookshops if you behave yourself,” she said with a teasing smile.

Colin managed a faint smile of his own, but the crease between his brows did not dissipate for the whole of the dinner.

Elizabeth was pleased he had agreed to accompany her. Her cousin was sometimes dismissed as austere and rude because he did not always speak too much in company. Once one got him alone, however, he was perfectly charming.

As the desserts were brought out and they all began to tuck into the fruit fool the cook had prepared, Elizabeth caught his eye again and offered a smile. Whatever was troubling him could not be something trivial. She only hoped that with some time by themselves, she might get it from him and offer her assistance, such as it was.

***

The following morning it was a bright, sunny day without a cloud in the sky. Charlotte and Sarah were delighted when Lord Malcolm Preston called on them unexpectedly and asked if they might like a stroll through town.

Charlotte, who had not been to the London thoroughfares since she was ten or eleven, was amazed by how things had changed.

Bond Street seemed to have everything, with shops overflowing with luxury items, as well as more lace than she had ever seen in her life. Sarah, too, was quite amazed by everything on offer. Malcolm walked beside them fondly, pointing out places they might like to visit with infinite patience as they both grew increasingly excited at the sights and sounds of the city.

Following the strange tea at the Norwell’s and her unpleasant conversation with her father, Charlotte finally began to see the merits of the city. She cast off her melancholy mood and threw herself into discovering all the latest fashions she might wear to the next ball. If she were forced to dance with eligible men, she would ensure she enjoyed the preparation for them.

“Is all well, Charlotte?” Malcolm asked as they walked through an arcade with a great glass ceiling flooding everything with light. The crowds around them were plentiful, and everything was abuzz with sound and excitement. Sarah had wandered to a man selling fine gloves to their left, and Charlotte had stopped beside her cousin to catch her breath.

“Of course,” she said quickly. “Why do you ask?”

“Because you do not seem yourself today. I cannot imagine being thrown into the pit has been enjoyable for you.”

“The pit?” she asked.

“London society. It is bad enough for those of us who are used to it.” Charlotte’s jaw tightened at the implication that she was not capable, and Malcolm continued in haste. “Do not misunderstand me. It is not a criticism. Even I find it jarring to be among so many people all at once.”

Charlotte’s ire cooled slightly, and Malcolm blew out a relieved breath as she nodded.

“I have had to contend with more than crowds these last few days,” she said softly.

“Oh, yes? How so?”

“My father wishes me to marry. As soon as possible. It is why we returned to London.”

“I wondered why it was mid-season. What a strange decision when you had not yet come out of mourning.”

“That is what I told him, but he will not hear of it. It is my duty, and I shall uphold the family honour, as always. If I were a man, I would have ten years to enjoy myself before I had to be tied into married life.”

Malcolm smiled affectionately down at her. “You make it sound like a prison sentence.”

“I hope you marry for love,” she insisted, “and that you are happy, but that is not an option I will be given.”

Malcolm’s smile vanished. “Why? What has he said?”

“That the Earl of Kenthurst is a suitable match. Unless I can miraculously find another, my father wants me to accept him.”

“He has made an offer to you already? You have not been back a fortnight!” Malcolm protested.

“No. No. But he is calling on me tomorrow.”

Malcolm sighed. “I am sorry, Lottie, that is not what I would have wished for you. Kilby is a pleasant enough fellow, but you have not had a chance to take a breath, let alone establish yourself in society. What can your father be thinking?”

“About my future. I suppose. I do see that.”

“Come,” Malcolm said brightly, his effervescent nature coming to the fore as she gave him a tired smile at the mischief in his eyes. “Let us go to into The Inkwell I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Have a terrible time, I am sure,” he said with a grin and opened the door for her.

The bookshop was utterly charming inside, a labyrinth of shelves snaking away from the main area in every direction. Ladders, each more precarious than the last, rested against the high shelves, and books were piled in every corner.

“You, see?” Malcolm said triumphantly as Charlotte felt her smile widen considerably. “I knew this would cheer you up. I charge you to find three books of poetry you have not yet read, and I shall buy them for y—” he stopped, his eyes widening slightly in shock.

Charlotte turned to see what he was looking at, and she too froze in place as the Duke of Lindenbrook and Lady Elizabeth Ludlow emerged from between the bookshelves.

He looked impossibly handsome; his features relaxed in a faint smile as he accompanied his cousin. Charlotte’s fingers fluttered at her skirts as she watched him approach, her breath coming faster as she took in the strict line of his coat. He had not yet seen them, but Elizabeth had noticed Malcolm.

After a moment of charged tension, where Malcolm stared at her, seemingly unable to move, he launched himself across the shop to speak to them. Charlotte followed at a slightly more leisurely pace and curtsied to Elizabeth.

The duke’s eyes widened as he saw Charlotte, watching her with an intensity that made Charlotte’s heart beat a thunderous rhythm in her chest. She wasn’t sure what he meant by that look, but her skin felt hot in the face of it.

“Good morning, Lady Wentworth,” he said with a perfect bow. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Your Grace,” she said with a smile. Lady Ludlow was looking between them curiously, and the duke quickly motioned to her, his eyes twinkling a little.

“Lady Wentworth, may I introduce my cousin, Lady Elizabeth Ludlow.”

Charlotte curtsied to Elizabeth, who bowed her head. She was a very elegant woman up close, and Charlotte found herself rather envious of her petite frame. Malcolm, for his part, appeared to be completely tongue-tied, and Charlotte took pity on him.

“Lady Ludlow, may I introduce my companion, Miss Sarah Gilmore. We have been walking about the town this morning after Lord Preston invited us to accompany him.” Malcolm finally broke out of his stupor and bowed. “I have been charged with perusing the poetry, your Grace.” Charlotte continued, a familiar calm overcoming her as she looked at the duke. “Lord Preston has promised to buy me three books, no matter the cost! Isn’t that generous of him,” she stated, flicking an amused glance at her cousin.

Malcolm scoffed, finally finding his voice, and groaned aloud. “I had forgotten how much you adore poetry. I renege on my agreement. Small volumes, please, Lady Wentworth, think of my purse.”

“May I show you?” the duke asked, surprising her as he held his arm for her to take. “We just came from there ourselves, and I would hate for you to be cursed with only Byron for company.”

Malcolm watched with interest as Charlotte gave a small huff of laughter, her cheeks pinking prettily as she accompanied the duke to the shelves a little way from them. Malcolm observed the duke’s expression with great interest—there was admiration in his eyes, and Malcolm wondered where they might have met before.

“I did not expect to see you here, my Lord,” Elizabeth said, shifting the books under her arm and looking about them at the small bookshop. “Are you here to purchase anything for yourself or purely for Lady Wentworth’s benefit?”

“I have purchased far too many books, Lady Ludlow. I have fifteen volumes I have yet to read. Do not allow me to buy anything, I beg you,” he said lightly.

She laughed as she showed him the titles she had pulled from the shelves.

“Ah! I see you are a reader of Austen,” he said cheerfully.

“Indeed, I have read all of her books, although this one is a gift. I have a well-thumbed volume of Emma at home. This I have bought for my niece. I think it important to corrupt women early. My father thinks Austen is a radical, so I feel it is a suitable present for a ten-year-old.”

Malcolm let out a sharp bark of laughter at that and shook his head.

“A radical; indeed, she certainly makes me laugh a great deal when I read her books. But then, I always laugh when I am around you, too, so perhaps you are also a radical Lady Ludlow.”

He was delighted to see her smile at that as she looked down at the floor in embarrassment and Malcolm’s heart positively sang as he glanced behind them to see where his cousin had been.