Page 11 of Charming Sir Charles
She felt the familiar surge of admiration at the sight of him. He was casually dressed in a bottle green coat and buff breeches. The faint breeze ruffled his thick brown hair where the long rays of light discovered rich russet highlights.
He didn’t look like the elegant London gentleman who had escorted Meg and her chaperone to balls and the theatre. He looked in his element, as if the country suited him.
She must still be suffering the aftereffects of his unexpected appearance. Her heart was racing so fast that her breath caught.
“I’m sorry.” That very nice smile appeared, as did the charming dimples. “I’ve been here a few minutes, but you were so lost to your thoughts, you didn’t notice.”
Damn and blast. Had he seen her crying?
She plastered a bright expression on her face. “I was thinking how lovely it is here.”
“It is indeed.” Those attractive laughter lines deepened around his eyes. “Although anything that doesn’t involve four legs, a tail and a whinny looks good to me at the moment.”
She mustered a laugh at his disgusted tone, but her inexplicable edginess lingered.
Not that she could blame him for tiring of the company. So far, the talk had been very …equine.
Meg and Brand and Carey directed discussion toward horsey matters at any opportunity – and given Helena and West bred the best horses in England, opportunities had been numerous. Silas and Caro made some attempt to shift the focus, but with little success.
If Fenella were here, Sally would owe her an apology. It had been a complete waste of time, trying to hide Meg’s monomania from Sir Charles.
“Don’t you like horses?” she asked curiously.
Norwood had considered himself a great expert on horses. Actually Norwood had considered himself a great expert on everything under God’s heaven. The thought of her late, unlamented husband reminded her how much she liked Sir Charles, who spoke to her as if she had a brain between her ears.
Sir Charles ambled across to sit beside her and stretch his long, booted legs out across the tiles with their red and whitechinoiserie design. That inexplicable catch in her breath was back. If the evening had been cold, she might understand it. But it was perfect weather for late spring.
He sighed. “Not for breakfast, lunch and dinner.”
“Has it been very dull for you?” Without thinking, she placed her hand on his. At the contact, a strange frisson tingled along her arm.
All her earlier awkwardness rushed back, and she snatched her hand away to set it trembling in her lap. She really was acting like an idiot. Perhaps when she returned to London, she should consult her doctor.
Sir Charles surveyed her thoughtfully. “There have been some compensations.”
Ridiculously Sally found herself blushing. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d blushed. Before her marriage surely.
She hurried into speech. “I promise you that Meg does talk about other things. I think she’s just so excited to see all these champions in one place.”
To her relief, Sir Charles shifted that enigmatic brown gaze from her to the gardens. Sally immediately sucked in a deep breath to feed her starved lungs. For some reason, she’d felt quite lightheaded when he stared into her eyes.
“There’s no doubt she’s happy.”
“Ecstatic,” Sally said drily. No point pretending anything different, she admitted. At least Sir Charles didn’t sound particularly put out to run a distant second to West’s most recent Derby winner in the girl’s estimation. “Have you managed to ferret out West’s art collection? You said you were looking forward to seeing it.”
“I visited the pictures in the long gallery the day after I arrived, although they deserve a second look. Have you seen them?”
His good-humored interest should put her at ease. But her heart still skipped around like a grasshopper, and she felt unaccountably nervy in his presence.
“Not recently. I must admit when I come to Shelton Abbey, I spend most of my time gossiping with Helena and her friends. We all live so far apart. It’s nice to have a chance to talk fashion and scandal and family news.” She made an apologetic gesture. “You’ll think I’m hopelessly frivolous.”
This visit, she’d avoided those cozy chats. She didn’t want to face questions about this restless mood she was in – and she knew both Helena and Caro had noticed that she wasn’t her cheerful, chatty self.
When he smiled, the kindness in his eyes made her think yet again what a nice man he was. “As long as you aren’t gossiping about horses, I have no criticism.”
It was her turn to laugh, surprised that it came out quite easily. “Meg and the boys have added a different flavor to the visit.”
“A whiff of hay and harnesses?”
