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“We will just have to do our best to overlook it, then. What else?”
“Well, I enjoy playing cards, but I cannot abide a game of bridge if it is takentooseriously and drags on half the night. My brother is quite competitive in his card games, but I think they should only be played for fun.”
“Also, a perfectly reasonable opinion.” Sir John agreed. “What about books, music, that sort of thing?” He pressed, finding that he was enjoying this line of conversation immensely. “Do you like poetry?”
“I love all different sorts of books and publications: novels and magazines, history, or even the works of the ancient Greeks. It all depends on what sort of mood I happen to be in at the moment.”
“Greek?” Ashbrooke could not help the incredulous note that crept into his tone. Charlotte sniffed and he could tell she was instantly defensive.
“A discourteous statement, Sir John,” she said sharply. “I suppose you do not believe that a woman can be a scholar of any merit?”
“I beg your pardon, my lady,” Sir John answered quickly. “Thatwasmost ungallant of me. But it is very rare to come across a young lady who is as accomplished, across such a variety of areas, as yourself. So perhaps you will forgive my surprise, at finding you charming and beautiful, as well as clever?”
Lady Charlotte eyed him speculatively as if weighing his sincerity. “I fear I am not the representative of my gender to prove you wrong, as far as the mental capacities of young women. I have never been terribly devoted to any serious study. But Homer’s stories always captured my imagination and the language seemed like such a wonderfully challenging puzzle.” She smiled at him then, and Sir John felt himself relax knowing he had not truly invited her ire. “I drove Ruddy’s tutors quite mad, hanging about his lessons like a terrible little pest. They could only ever get rid of me by changing to mathematics. Which is one of the few things at which I do not excel. I am notentirelyaccomplished, you know. There are a great many things that did not capture my imagination and I could barely force myself to become passably proficient.” She grinned at him.
“Needlework, for example,” he said.
She grinned madly.
“I suspect there is a story behind that,” Sir John said with a raised eyebrow, making Charlotte laugh.
“I am afraid there is, and it isn’t a very flattering one at all. I really should not tell you, but I cannot bear people who hide things, or worse outrightly lie. So, I must confess, there was a needlepoint sampler that my mother insisted I complete when I was about twelve. It was hideously complex, a covering for a cushion, and she was determined that I would strive for nothing short of perfection. Well, I succeeded, although I despised every single stitch. It was such glorious weather outside and I did so resent being trapped in the sitting room with that tangle of threads. I promised myself I would have revenge upon that cushion once it was complete.”
“I am half afraid to ask what sort of revenge,” Sir John said lightly, trying to ignore the way his high spirits had dropped at Lady Charlotte’s mention of disliking people who hid things. “But curiosity compels me and I must know.”
“I shall tell you,” Charlotte laughed mischievously. “Once I finished the cushion and my mother pronounced it passable, I persuaded her to allow me that I could do with it as I pleased. Of course, I knew perfectly well that she thought I meant to choose where to display my completed masterpiece, but that was far from my intention. Instead, I took it outside that same afternoon and set it up as a target. I wasn’tquitethe excellent shot then that I am now, but I assure you that the poor cushion was utterly destroyed in short order, and my mother never made me complete another sampler. She set me to learning the pianoforte; I suspect because I could hardly drag the instrument outdoors and shootit.”
Sir John threw his head back and laughed at her story, which he found he could picture quite perfectly. “And did you wish to shoot the pianoforte, then?” he asked, once he had regained his breath.
“Oh, no, I adore music. Although, my friend Lady Amelia is much more accomplished than I. I am only just adequate at playing the pianoforte, but I do not think I am so terrible at singing. I have learned a volley of songs, mostly Christmas carols, mind you. Our family loves to sing them during the holidays. Mother’s joints are not what they once were, so I play to give her some relief, but I do know several other songs. I shall have to play for you sometime, so that you may judge for yourself.”
“I would love nothing more, unless it might be a chance to see you shoot. So you ride, shoot, play pianoforte and read Greek…any other languages?” He hesitated at the last but he felt it a good a time as any to attempt broach the subject. They had nearly completed their detour and were back on the main section of Hyde Park where the bulk of theTonwas concentrated.
“French, of course,” Lady Charlotte answered carelessly. “What respectable young lady could reach the age of maturity without learning French?”
“Indeed,” Sir John murmured, frowning in spite of himself. “And what do you think of the French?” The question seemed to ask itself, and he cursed himself mentally as soon as the words were spoken.
“What do I think of them? I suppose they are hardly different than the English when it comes right down to it. But if you are looking for me to claim I have any sort of great fascination in current political matters you will be sadly disappointed, Sir John. There, I draw the line. Politics are hideously boring.”
“Well, one hardly knows, with someone so spirited and unpredictable as yourself,” he said smoothly, forcing himself to speak lightly. Why should her opinion on the French matter to him, he wondered? Nearly everyone he knew agreed that they were scoundrels down to the man, after all. For some reason he felt that he would not be able to bear it if he heard that sentiment from Charlotte’s lovely lips, and his relief at her generous answer was baffling. He could not imagine her insulting anyone.
Perhaps, he told himself, it was only because he knew that Lord Keegain had recently helped in the capture of several French spies. It seemed likely that the Keening family would be at least as bitterly opposed to Napoleon, and therefore all of his countrymen as the rest of England.
“That was very cleverly done,” Charlotte said, cutting across his thoughts.
“What?” he asked, startled.
“I asked you to tell me about yourself, yet you somehow turned the conversation so that it has been nearly all me telling you aboutmyself. I am easily distracted, but you know it is hardly sporting to use it against me.”
“You can hardly blame me. You are endlessly fascinating to me, Lady Charlotte,” Sir John replied, once again struck by the realization that he meant the statement with complete sincerity.
“That will not do and you know it. I will not tell you another thing about myself until you have divulged something more onto me.”
“It is only fair, I suppose. Ah, let me see-” John stopped short as a rabbit dashed across the bridle path, startling both of their horses. His mount nearly reared and he pulled up sharply, but he saw with alarm that Lady Charlotte’s horse leapt recklessly forward at a gallop.
Cursing under his breath, Sir John urged his horse forward, racing after Lady Charlotte. They tore wildly down the path, raising censorious glances and remarks from the other fashionable occupants of Hyde Park. When he was finally able to pull alongside her, John gripped his own horse tightly with his knees and reached out a hand to catch hold of her reins.
They circled and slowed gradually. John realized with surprise that Lady Charlotte was laughing breathlessly, not crying or pale with terror as he would have supposed.
