Page 39 of Not his Marchioness
“Well then,” Lady Sherwood declared, “I believe I would very much like another cup of tea and perhaps one of those delectable sweets.”
“Splendid,” Charlotte managed, signaling for fresh tea whilst attempting to collect herself.
“Ladies,” Rhys said with another elegant bow, “it has been a great pleasure, but I shall not impose further on your gathering.”
He moved toward the door, only to be called back.
“Lord Ravenscar,” Lady Sherwood said, “I have not yet had the opportunity to invite your charming wife, but I am hosting a ball this Saturday. I do hope you both would attend.”
“But of course,” Charlotte replied, then caught herself.
Rhys’s lips curled into an amused smile. “As my wife has said, we would be delighted.”
With that, he departed, leaving Charlotte alone with her guests in an atmosphere thick with unspoken speculation.
An hour later, after the distinguished ladies had finally taken their leave, Charlotte found herself absently picking cake crumbs from the silk tablecloth. Only Margot remained.
“Well,” Margot said with obvious delight, “that was quite the performance from your husband. I thought you said you barely spoke to one another.”
“We do not. We exchange perhaps as many words as the Prince Regent and his wife. Which is to say, virtually none.”
“Then how did he know about your plans for a school?”
“I suspect he did not. He must have caught snippets of our conversation and improvised the rest.”
“Well then,” Margot said with a knowing smile, “perhaps he is not quite so indifferent as you assume.”
“I believe you are mistaken,” Charlotte replied, though she could not deny feeling rather overwhelmed by Rhys’s sudden appearance and smooth manner. “Do not forget his reputation with the ladies. Tonight’s performance was just a demonstration of that easy charm that has led many into his bedchamber.”
“Ah, perhaps. And what of you? Has it led you astray yet?” Margot asked with a chuckle.
“Stop it,” Charlotte huffed. “It never will.”
“Are you quite certain?” Margot asked. “Because observing you both just now, I detected a certain…je ne sais quoibetween you.”
“I have no idea what you mean. I do not speak French.”
“There is something I cannot quite name, but it is there nonetheless. Something beyond mere complicity. Something that positivelysmolders.”
Charlotte’s eyes flashed with mock outrage. “The only thing that will be smoldering are your feet when I push you out of this house if you do not stop.”
“Please, Charlotte.” Margot laughed, raising her hands in surrender. “I shall say no more on the subject. I have no desire to be ejected and become the talk of London. Heaven knows what kind of gentleman I might be forced to marry to fix such damage to my reputation.”
Charlotte shook her head. Her cousin had always had a flair for the dramatic.
She plucked a lump of sugar from the bowl, examined it thoughtfully, then placed it on her tongue.
“There is one thing I ask of you,” Margot added.
“Anything, if it will end this ridiculous conversation.”
“When all that smoldering finally bursts into flame, do let me know. I am quite eager to witness the outcome.”
Charlotte lobbed a napkin at her cousin, who caught it with a laugh. She found herself laughing as well, yet in the back of her mind, she could not help wondering.
Might there be truth in Margot’s observations? And if not, why did the spot where Rhys had touched her still tingle?
CHAPTER 16
