Page 9 of Lady Charlotte and the Lending Library
He bowed. “It would be my pleasure, little sister.”
William hurried away. She could not fault him for making his escape. Before the season commenced, he’d declared undying love for Louisa and been soundly rejected. He was now obviously uncomfortable around her friend. It was Charlotte’s dearest wish he would soon become enamored of another lady. Any lady.
Her brother was much too timid around the opposite sex. He should exude confidence whether he had any or not. The young ladies she knew declared they would like a kind, sweet man but often gravitated toward any remotely rakish gentlemen at the season’s entertainments.
Louisa caught her gaze, smiled, and gestured to her. Charlotte made her way around the edge of the ballroom to stand beside Edith and Louisa.
“You both look lovely this evening,” she said to her friends.
“As lovely as one can look dressed in white,” Louisa replied with a shake of her head, her copper-colored hair glowing in the candlelight.
“I like wearing white,” Edith said with a grin.
Edith had an exceptionally light complexion, flaxen hair, and pale blue eyes. For some reason, the color white didn’t make her disappear into her surroundings but merely served to enhance the fragility of her features and bone structure. Her waif-like look was currently very desirable in society.
“Why did your mother come to the ball?” Charlotte asked Louisa. “She hasn’t chaperoned you in some time.”
Louisa sighed. “My brothers have decided to take turns keeping an eye on me at social events. They told my mother I’m giving little effort to the search for a husband, so she decided to come along this evening and see for herself.”
“None of us are trying very hard to find a spouse,” she replied with a shrug. “We have dowries and good names. Would our parents have us jump through hoops to gain a man’s attention?”
“My father is in no hurry for me to marry,” Edith responded quietly, “he would be very lonely in the townhouse all by himself.”
To change the subject from the marriage mart, Charlotte mentioned the lending library, “I think Lady Cairs is going to help us save Thorne’s.”
“Really?” Edith asked excitedly. “That is wonderful news.”
“Tell us,” Louisa said.
She giggled. “It is mostly due to my mother. She insinuated that Thorne’s is the place for young people to find a spouse.”
Louisa gasped. “But Charlotte, we’re the only young people who go to Thorne’s.”
“Oh my...” She gulped, shaking her head. “In my excitement at the lady supporting us, I didn’t stop to think too hard about the truth. That is most definitely a problem.”
“What can we do?” Edith asked as she anxiously rubbed her gloved hands against each other.
Before she could reply, she noticed Louisa’s eyes widen as she watched something or someone behind Charlotte.
She turned and saw her brother approaching, the man from White’s beside him. Charlotte took several deep breaths to steady her nerves as she watched the man walk toward her with an easy grace that belied his tall frame. In full evening kit, he was devastatingly attractive. Although her heart was thumping heavily inside her chest, she composed her features into polite interest.
William made the introductions haltingly, his color high. “Benedict Grey, Marquess of Ashford, may I present my sister Lady Charlotte and her friends Lady Edith and Lady Louisa.”
She made a shallow curtsy and said, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Ashford.”
Her friends echoed her sentiments as Lord Ashford’s eyes narrowed on her face. A quick twist of his lips followed.
He knew. He recognized her as the woman in rags loitering outside White’s. She saw it in his gorgeous blue eyes.
“Would you do me the honor of accompanying me in the next dance, Lady Charlotte?” the gentleman asked her, his manner subdued.
Charlotte had hardly reconciled his recognizing her from St. James’s Street, and then she was in his arms, dancing. She wondered why he would want to dance with her as she knew very well he disapproved of her lurking near White’s.
The marquess’s cologne surrounded her like a soft blanket. His jet-black hair glinted in the candlelight. She looked at a spot just over his shoulder so she wouldn’t get lost in his thickly lashed cobalt blue eyes. Although he held her at arm’s length, the proximity of his frame to hers caused her knees to feel wobbly.
“You know who I am,” she said stiffly to cover her confusion.
She felt the shrug of his shoulder under her hand. “Now I do.”
