“Of course,” she said rather haughtily, “I play the pianoforte, the harp, and the violin. Music is a particular passion of mine.”
Colin did not doubt that she played all three perfectly. She was the type of woman who had been bred for society, identical to hundreds of others trying to ensnare a husband in just the right way.
Lavinia Norwell is nothing like Lady Wentworth—her whole identity is entirely her own.
Lady Norwell was cool and emotionless on the dance floor, just as he had known she would be. She reminded him of her mother—high-handed to a fault and cruel when she believed no one was listening.
Colin could not wait to escape the dance floor and head to dinner. Lord Kilby and Lady Wentworth passed them at that moment, and Lord Kilby laughed at something she said. Colin’s own spirits lowered considerably at the sound—if only I had approached her sooner, I could be holding her in my arms at this moment instead.
***
As the ball drew to a close and the couples left the dance floor to make their way to the dinner tables, Charlotte found that she had been placed beside Lord Kilby, much to her distaste.
“It seems we are destined to spend time with one another this evening,” he said blithely as he pulled out her chair for her as Charlotte sat down, trying to keep her displeasure from her face.
She could not believe that this seating arrangement was not by design. The duke was at the far end of the table beside the Norwells, speaking quietly to Lady Norwell as Lavinia leaned in to hear his every word.
Charlotte tried to listen to Kilby’s continuous prattle as the dinner commenced, but the man rarely paused for breath unless chewing too loudly on his food or taking a sip of wine.
She was acutely aware of the duke at the other end of the table, listening for his laugh and casting furtive glances in his direction to see if that soft smile played over his lips as it had at Gunter’s. The idea that he might be interested in Lavinia was deeply unsettling, and the feelings of unhappiness she had tried to suppress were growing with each passing minute.
Her only reassurance in the whole affair was that, more often than not, when she did seek him out, his eyes would meet hers almost immediately. That delicate thread of connection between them would grow taut again, and even amidst a throng of well-dressed company, there existed a palpable tension between them that she could not dismiss.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Following dinner, after the ladies and gentlemen had separated for a brief time, they came back together for cards. Much to the joy of everyone present, Colin, Elizabeth, Lord Preston, and Lady Wentworth found themselves at a table forWhist.
The rest of the room around them was lively. Several groups were raucous in their celebrations with every trick that was won. Colin could feel his shoulders relax as Elizabeth settled beside him, and Lady Wentworth sat opposite.
Colin was rather amused to observe the tension in Lord Preston’s manner around his cousin. Elizabeth was harder to read, but Colin thought that she might care for Lord Preston more than she was letting on.
I cannot judge Preston for his manners. I can hardly keep my eyes off my playing partner, either.
It was a joy to be seated in relative privacy opposite Lady Wentworth. He was afforded plenty of time to take in her beautiful features, the light speckling of freckles over her nose, and her long, luscious eyelashes.
Colin felt as though he had been staring at papers and piles of documents for so long that he had forgotten the beauty in the world. It seemed, much to his surprise and joy, that he had found a great deal of it in Lady Wentworth.
As Charlotte observed her hand, she was aware of the duke’s eyes upon her and attempted to prevent the easy blush that his presence always triggered in her.
“I have quite forgotten what trumps are again,” Malcolm said, looking genuinely embarrassed. Charlotte huffed a laugh and received a glare from him—Malcolm was terrible at cards.
“Hearts,” she said helpfully, and Malcom’s shoulders lowered just a fraction.
Perhaps he should look at his playing partner to remind him,Charlotte thought with amusement.‘Hearts’ are certainly in play at this table already.
For her own part, Charlotte was enjoying the game immensely. She was finally free of Kilby and could look at the duke all she liked without it being remarked upon. He did not speak a great deal, concentrating on the game and did not seem to be overly competitive.
“Are you fond of Whist, Lady Wentworth?” he asked eventually as Malcolm sighed loudly when he had only a very low card to play. Charlotte and the Duke were winning by a rather enormous degree.
“I do not usually win,” Charlotte confessed, “but today, I am enjoying it a great deal,” she said with a wide smile. When she looked up at him, the expression on his face was quite different from any she had seen thus far. He was almost grinning in delight, his white teeth flashing, eyes crinkling pleasingly. It was unguarded and happy, nothing like the polite mask he wore so often in public.
Charlotte’s heart began pounding in her chest at the sight, their eyes meeting in shared secret pleasure as they won the next trick.
Elizabeth laughed good-naturedly as Malcolm apologized profusely for being ‘utterly useless’ at the end of the game. The room was quietly clearing as the hour was late, and Charlotte found herself laughing heartily with Elizabeth at her cousin’s dejected expression.
They all rose together, making their way out of the room, at which point the duke offered his arm to Elizabeth. He gave Charlotte a rather brief farewell, but she fancied that his eyes lingered longer than was usual.
She wished they could somehow meet in the gardens again. It seemed that many secrets could be revealed by moonlight.
