Page 19 of Tamed By a Duke
Such was Charlotte's discomfort, that it was almost a relief when the barouche came to an abrupt halt. She lurched forward and surely would have landed in Lady Anne's lap, had a strong arm not grabbed her by the waist, preventing her tumble.
"Goodness," she said, fixing her bonnet which had come askew, "What happened?"
"It seems there is a problem with the wheel," Penrith replied, apparently unconscious of the fact that his arm was still wrapped around her waist.
His strong, muscular arm.
Charlotte gulped, wondering how she could politely pull away from him, but was saved by a pointed cough from the opposite side of the carriage. Helga was glaring daggers at Penrith, who quickly released a hold of Charlotte as he caught the Nordic woman's murderous expression.
"I will investigate the matter," the duke said, rising to a stand and disembarking the vehicle, nearly tripping in his haste to be away from Helga.
"Well," Lady Anne said, once Penrith was out of sight, "I don't know how you have managed to fluster my brother, Miss Drew, but I do hope you will continue. It is a delight to see him acting like a human, for once."
Charlotte wanted to protest that it was not she who had flustered Penrith, but Helga. Out of loyalty to her maid however, she resisted the urge to defend herself, and simply made an unintelligible noise that she hoped might sound self-deprecating.
"Oh, no need to be modest," Lady Anne said, with a broad smile, "I saw the way he was with you—he couldn't take his eyes off you. He is quite the smitten kitten and I, for one, am delighted to see it. Hugh is a dear boy, but he is wont to think of himself as a title, rather than as a man."
Charlotte was left in stupefied silence by Lady Anne's pronouncement, not to mention the off-hand way in which she had described her brother as a 'kitten'. The man who had smouldered at Charlotte just minutes before was no tame cat, but a wild beast; feral and completely unpredictable. The idea of Penrith being comparable to a sweet kitten, was almost as ludicrous as Lady Anne's assertion that he was 'smitten' by Charlotte.
Seemingly sensing Charlotte's discomfort, Lady Anne changed the subject to matters more mundane, which was lucky, for Helga looked as though she were about to have an apoplectic fit with all the talk of smitten dukes.
After a short while, Penrith clambered back into the carriage, murmuring vaguely about a chassis and wearing the universal smug look of a man who has just fixed something.
"We tightened one of the bolts, it should get us home safely," Penrith said, his chest swelling with masculine pride, though his companions were universally uninterested in his statement.
"Good, I find the Row gets too crowded after six," Lady Anne replied, settling her skirts around her knees in preparation for the journey back to Grosvenor Square.
"I was led to believe that the crowds were the whole point of the Row," Penrith countered, with a flash of brotherly humour, "One must be seen to be seen, and that is not possible if there is no one about to witness you being seen."
"La!" Lady Anne cried in reply to her brother, "You will give me a headache, Penrith."
Charlotte bit her lip to prevent herself from laughing at the siblings' squabble. Penrith might think himself a high and lofty duke, but even he was not above irritating his sister for his own amusement.
The barouche continued on its journey toward the far gate on Serpentine Road, though its progress was slow, given that it had become rather crowded. Carriages filled with ladies dressed in all their finery passed by, whilst dashing gentlemen in pristine riding coats rode tall upon gleaming steads.
Charlotte allowed herself to gaze at the other riders on the Row, glad that it allowed her to appear absorbed by her surroundings. In reality, her attention was focused solely on the man sitting next to her, whose presence was most distracting.
A few minutes later, a familiar figure approaching on horseback caught Charlotte's eye, and she shrank back into her seat, hoping that he would pass by without noticing her.
"Is everything alright?"
Penrith was a dutiful host and noticed right away the change in Charlotte's demeanour. While she could not fault him his attentiveness, Charlotte rather wished that the duke was not quite so observant.
"Everything is fine," she whispered back, affixing a tight smile to her face. Her head was studiously turned toward Penrith and away from the approaching rider, but she saw the duke glance over her shoulder, to try and see what it was that had upset her.
Don't ask, don't ask, Charlotte whispered to herself in silent prayer. And, miracle of miracles, the duke did not.
"I say, Anne, did you mention earlier that the Theatre Royal is running a festival of some sort?" Penrith called out abruptly.
"They're showing different works by Shakespeare throughout the season," Lady Anne confirmed, frowning slightly, "If I recall, you said you would rather eat your cravat than sit through a work by the Bard."
"Did I?" Penrith adopted a look of innocence, "I am sure that you misheard me. Miss Drew, are you fond of the Bard?"
"As much as the next person," Charlotte replied, before wondering if this was the correct response. The person next to her was Penrith and, according to his sister, he was not at all fond of The Sweet Swan of Avon. Cravat eating not fond, if Lady Anne was to be believed.
"Then it's settled," Penrith decided, "We shall attend a showing of the next play in the programme. I have a box which we can make use of."
Penrith settled back into his seat, content. His sister, Charlotte noted, looked equally as pleased by his statement, though he had made no mention of inviting her.
