Page 20 of Charming Sir Charles
To his surprise, she reached over and clasped his hand in brief encouragement. “Something has frightened her – I can see that. Can’t you?”
He straightened and pulled away. “You’re not saying she’s scared of me?”
“If she’s attracted to you, she would be terrified, I suspect.”
He sent her a narrow-eyed look. “You’re trying to bolster my confidence.”
“I’m trying to tell you not to give up on her – but perhaps change your tactics.”
“Pounce?”
Meg nodded firmly. “Pounce.”
Charles’s response was lost as Helena approached, carrying a candle. “You two have been away a long time.”
“We started talking, Lady West.” Still struggling to come to terms with what he’d learned tonight, Charles stood at his hostess’s arrival. “It’s my fault. I should have returned Miss Meg to the drawing room half an hour ago.”
“No matter. We’re not looking to make a scandal.”
He struggled to pin a smile to his face, but it was difficult when his mind was in complete tumult. Marry Meg? What an utterly ludicrous idea. Sally had bats in her belfry. “We’ll go and make our peace with her chaperone.”
Helena shook her head. “Sally went to bed just after you left. That’s why I’m tonight’s guardian of propriety.”
Meg stood and smoothed the skirts of her yellow silk gown. “I’m sorry we made you come and fetch us, Lady West.”
Helena shrugged. “I don’t mind. But it’s getting late.”
“Has everyone retired?” Charles asked.
“Silas and my husband are in the library emptying the brandy decanter and reliving boyhood exploits. Caro has gone upstairs to check on the children. I think Brand and Carey are still playing billiards.”
“With your permission, I may linger with the Caravaggio.”
“Certainly. Meg?”
“I might go and see how the billiards are progressing,” she said and curtsied to Charles. “Good night, Sir Charles.”
“Good night, Miss Meg,” he said, and hoped she heard his fervent gratitude. By God, he’d been fighting his battle for Sally blindfolded. Now at least he knew what he was up against.
Charles watched the girl leave with Helena, then raised his eyes to the painting before him. But for once, art, however magnificent, couldn’t compel his attention. Instead his mind turned over every aspect of that infuriating, astonishing, enlightening discussion with Meg.
He understood so much that had confused him. Sally’s curious mixture of confidence and insecurity. The air of innocence, incongruous in a widow in her thirties. Her unwillingness to speak about her marriage.
Poor, poor Sally, trapped in such an uncongenial union. If heaven granted him the privilege, Charles would do all he could to ensure that her second marriage was more to her taste.
If there was a second marriage.
Meg seemed to think he could persuade Sally to marry him. So did Stone. And tonight at dinner, Helena had offered encouragement.
He hoped to hell all of them were right. Hungering after Sally in London had been bad enough. Living with her under one roof, however vast, threatened to drive him out of his head with frustration.
Perhaps he should take Meg’s advice. It might be time to…pounce.
Chapter Seven
Sally woke late the next morning to the horrid feeling that an unidentified doom was about to crash down over her.
Then she remembered.
