Page 19 of Her Scottish Duke
“In what way?” Dorothy encouraged her on, a small smile appearing on her lips.
With no knowledge as to why that smile had appeared, Charlotte just carried on.
“Oh, he does not know what to say or when. He keeps calling me ‘lass.’” She tried not to show how much she liked it. “He had no idea he was in danger of being trapped in scandal at that ball. He is like a child when it comes to etiquette. Everything needs explaining to him. He did not even know a dessert fork from a fish fork.
“Oh, and you know what else.” She leaned forward, now in full flow of her rant. “He keeps touching me.”
“What?” Frederica dropped her cake fork as Dorothy smiled wider.
“Oh, not in that way. He just takes my hand, or the like, without even thinking about it.”
“And he means nothing by this?” Dorothy asked leadingly. “It sounds almost as if the Duke of Rodstone could be fond of you, Charlotte.”
“Fond of me!?” she asked wildly. Her voice squeaked, something so unlike her, that her two friends glanced between them. “No, no. He is not fond. Not at all. He just asked me for help.”
She cast her mind back to when he had carried up to the assembly rooms, his arm under her waist. He had winked at her and smiled at her. The possibility he could be fond of her, had her drinking her tea so fast, she managed to scald her tongue.
“She’s almost unlike herself, is she not?” Dorothy whispered very loudly indeed to make sure that Charlotte still heard her.
“I know what you mean.” Frederica nodded firmly in agreement. “You have become quite excitable, Charlotte.”
“Me!?” She realized how it sounded as Dorothy’s smile grew impossibly wider still. “No, I am not.” She cleared her throat and calmed her manner, reaching to place her teacup down. “He just winds me up. That is all.”
“I had a man who got under my skin once,” Dorothy said a little wistfully, staring at the ceiling in thought. “I argued with him at every opportunity, and everything about him frustratedme. Even the things that secretly pleased me ended up annoying me.”
“What did you do about him?” Charlotte asked, reaching for her tea again and taking another sip.
“I married him.”
Charlotte choked badly on her tea. It was such a violent choke that she teared up and Frederica had to reach around to clap her on the back.
“I would laugh at your reaction if it did not look so painful.” Dorothy grimaced. “But I am telling you the truth. I married Stephen.”
“You and Stephen are different,” Charlotte said in a strained voice as she recovered. “There is nothing at all affectionate between the Duke of Rodstone and me.” She hoped her friends believed the mad blush of her cheeks was because of choking, for she was now thinking of the last time the Duke of Rodstone had taken her hand. “Frederica, help me,” Charlotte appealed to her. “Not all men who irritate us have to end up being a source of affection, do they?”
“I quite agree,” Frederica said rather timidly, then looked away.
“She’s hiding something of her own,” Dorothy observed rather astutely. She nudged Frederica with her shoulder. “What are you not telling us? Come, you’re with friends here.”
“Oh, I know.” Frederica fiddled with her teacup, still appearing nervous as she began. “It’s just… I have this gentleman friend…”
“At last!” Dorothy put down her cup and turned to face Frederica, clasping her hands together. “Has he proposed yet?”
“Goodness, you jump from friend to marriage very fast, do you not?”
“She didn’t when it was her turn,” Charlotte reminded Frederica. “It took years for you and Stephen to declare your love, did it not?”
“I was not always in love with him,” Dorothy complained, her hands going to rest on her stomach. Charlotte raised her eyebrows and Dorothy smiled a little. “Well, my father thought we might grow up to be married, but I’m beginning to think it was some wild guess, rather than him reading anything about us.”
No. He read his daughter very well indeed.
Charlotte smiled all the same.
“Enough about me.” Dorothy waved a hand in the air. “Who is your gentleman friend, Frederica?”
“He just seems very persistent.” Frederica bit her lip. “He keeps turning up wherever I go, no matter how much I try to avoidhim.” She shook her head, and Charlotte could have sworn she saw her friend shiver.
“Are you afraid of him?”
