Charlie, who was now sitting demurely on the sofa, her properly shod feet firmly on the floor, tilted her head. “How odd of her. Why didn’t she just send a footman to fetch me? She obviously guessed I’d be in the music room.”
“I received the impression that your dear mamma was a trifle worried about gossip.” He cast a pointed look at Kade. “Not without reason, it would appear.”
Charlie scoffed. “If you’re suggesting that Mr. Kendrick and I are engaged in any sort of improper behavior, you are very wide of the mark, Sir Leslie. Mr. Kendrick is working on his concerto, while I simply came in for a moment of rest and quiet.”
Morgan spread his hands wide. “Of course, my dear. But appearances, you know, they can be tricky. To be seen closeted alone with another man is not quite—”
Charlie jumped to her feet. “Sir Leslie, I am neither a girl just released from the schoolroom nor a ninny. Mr. Kendrick is an old friend and a guest in our house. As such, I have encountered him more than once without any danger posed to my virtue.” She shot a narrow-eyed look at Kade. “Did you say something, sir?”
Kade had managed to choke back his laugh. “No. Just something caught in my throat.”
Morgan glared at him before trying to regain control of the conversation. “Miss Stewart, your mother is clearly worried about you. Again, not without cause.”
“If she was so worried about me, please explain why she sent only a gentleman I hardly know to look for me?”
That was a very good question.
Morgan looked momentarily flummoxed. “I . . . I suppose because I’m a friend of the family.” Then he mustered a smile. “And of course because you’re my supper partner, as you will recall. When we danced earlier, you graciously agreed to let me escort you down to the supper room.”
Charlie frowned. “No, I didn’t.”
Now the man began to look cross. “I would never wish to contradict a lady—”
“Then don’t,” she replied.
Kade rose to his feet. “Miss Stewart, I would be happy to escort you to the supper room—or back to the ballroom, if you would prefer.”
She waved him back to his seat. “Thank you, Mr. Kendrick, but I’ve disrupted your work for quite long enough.”
“Excellent,” Morgan said, throwing Kade a smug glance. “Then, Miss Stewart, I will be happy to escort you—”
“Also not necessary,” she replied, cutting him off. “I’m perfectly capable of escorting myself down to the blasted supper room.”
Then she strode out, leaving Morgan to stare after her, his sideburns all but bristling with ire.
“I don’t suppose you’d like to hear what I’ve been working on, do you?” Kade asked in an innocent tone.
Morgan threw him an ugly glance and then turned on his heel and stomped out of the room.
For a few moments, Kade listened to footsteps retreating down the hall. Then the peace of the night, broken only by the sound of crickets in the garden, settled over him.
He pulled his music closer. Returning to the party held little appeal, so work it would be. It wasn’t nearly as enticing as the idea of kissing Charlie, but nor would it lead to trouble. If he had a brain in his head, he’d realize he’d had a lucky escape tonight.
It was unfortunate, then, that he didn’t seem to have a brain in his head, because with Charlie’s lips only a few inches from his, escape had never even crossed his mind.
CHAPTER10
Charlie was avoiding him—again.
This evening she was sitting on the other side of the private family drawing room, hiding behind Ainsley and refusing to meet Kade’s eye. She was undoubtedly fashed about the missing brooch. And the fact that she also had Richard Campbell hard on her heels was another complication in a thicket of awkward situations.
Still, after their intimate conversation in the music room the other night, Kade hadn’t expected her to be awkward withhim. True, he’d been about to kiss her when Sir Leslie interrupted them, so it was possible that she now saw their little interlude as a mistake. But her efforts to evade him now had piqued his curiosity.
Angus joined him, handing him a whisky. “Ye look like ye could use this, what with yer scowlin’ and black moods. What’s amiss?”
Kade raised the glass in thanks. “Not scowling, Grandda. Just thinking.”
His grandfather plopped down in the club chair next to him. “Och, I can always tell when yer frettin’, Kade. Ye canna deny it.”
