The Captivating Lady Charlotte (Regency Brides: A Legacy of Grace #2)(17)

“Hyde Park is pretty enough, but here”—she gazed around the extensive parklands, the view stretching as far away as the dome of St. Paul’s—“here one can breathe.”

She glanced around. Yellow laburnum flowers hung in golden chains. In the distance she could see a group of fallow deer frolicking in the sunshine.

Lord Markham’s colt nickered, regaining her attention. He tugged the reins. “Does this remind you of your home in Devon?”

“A little. But without the sea air, of course.”

“Of course.” His lips lifted in that easy way she’d come to know and love. “Shall your family spend time there again this year?”

“Probably. We usually go in September, but only for a month or so. Mama much prefers London.”

“And you prefer Devon?”

“I …” His eyes watched her carefully, as if begging her to an answer he wished to hear, but what was it? “I … find things appealing about both parts of the world.”

He nodded, taking a step toward her, the colt now obscuring them from Henry’s view. “I wonder …”

“You wonder what, my lord?” She tilted her head to see him better. Up close, he was so much taller than she. And even more handsome, with sunlight dancing in his laughing eyes.

“I wonder, do you think your parents agreeable to a visit?”

Her heart bumped against her ribs. He wished to visit? Oh! She forced her answer, her demeanor to be all that was demure. “My parents enjoy visitors.”

“I wonder if they’d mind a visit from a particular acquaintance.”

“That may depend on just whom that particular acquaintance might be.”

“As wonderful as they are, it was not your parents I would wish to see.”

The intent look in his eyes chased away all coherent thought.

“Nor”—he drew nearer still—“your brother.”

She felt heat fill her cheeks, a fluttering in her midsection.

“Do you think your parents might be amenable to my paying you a visit, my lady?”

His smile sent tendrils of happiness curling the edges of her heart. “They might well be. Mama seems far more …” Resigned? Accepting? “Happy at your visits now.”

The thumping grew louder, as his smile widened. “You must know how much I enjoy your company.”

“Oh, and I do yours!”

He sighed. “It relieves me to hear you say so, for at times …” His brow lifted.

“Surely you cannot doubt my regard?”

“I merely want to be certain.” His gaze dipped to her lips, then he drew closer, closer. She closed her eyes, excitement fizzing through her veins— “Lottie?”

Her eyes flew open. Henry. Holding the reins of his horse—and a frown in his eyes.

“Markham, if I didn’t know better, it would seem you intend to kiss my sister.”

Mortification heated her chest, her cheeks. “Henry!”

“Charlotte and I were only talking,” Markham said with his disarming smile.

Which didn’t appear to disarm Henry. His scowl only deepened. “Didn’t look like that was all you wanted to do. And it’s Lady Charlotte to you.”

Now Lord Markham’s cheeks mottled, prompting her to interject, “Henry! How dare you?”

“I dare because you know Mama would be cast into a swoon should she hear of such things.”

“Then she best not hear of such things,” she said, tossing her curls.

“Excuse us,” Henry muttered, grasping Charlotte by the arm, pulling her out of Markham’s earshot. “You forget yourself when you are around him.”

“I’ve done nothing wrong. He is a perfect gentleman.”

He snorted. “Might I remind you it takes very little for a lady’s reputation to be harmed?”

“At the risk of repeating myself, I have done nothing wrong.”

“Not yet,” he muttered.

He released her arm, returning to Lord Markham, whose air of curiosity made her hurry forward with a smile. “Please excuse my brother. He is somewhat overprotective.”

Blue eyes flicked to her brother, the sardonic gaze growing more pronounced. “I’m sure he’s merely thinking of your best.”

No, he was only thinking of how to spoil her hopes and dreams.

Nothing more was said of Devon or visits or anything really, the ride home rather too short and too silent. Lord Markham returned to his lodgings, making no promises about meeting tomorrow, despite the fact she’d sent him her best smile and most concentrated thoughts of such a plan in an effort to induce him. Once they had returned the horses to the mews and she had changed, Charlotte found her brother reading a book in his bedchamber and, coming in, sat on the edge of the coverlet.

“Please don’t say anything to Mama.”

“I cannot like it, Lottie. I see the way he looks at you—”

“How does he look at me?”

“Not like a gentleman should.”

Oh. Oh! “How can you say such things? I thought he was your friend.”

“I knew him at university, but we were never close.”

“Well, I think you’re grossly unkind. If Mama has no concern for me being with Lord Markham, I don’t see why you should.”