Page 62 of Not his Marchioness

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“I do not know what the trouble is,” she huffed, “but I wish you would remember that we have both benefited from this marriage. And perhaps you could act a little more civil.”

“I have been civil all evening,” he countered, sounding genuinely surprised.

“Yes, until we danced together, and all of a sudden, you became a different person. Indeed, you are rather like—why, you’re not Byron, are you?”

“Byron? How in the world am I like Byron, aside from the fact that we are both wealthy, titled, and rakes?”

She clicked her tongue. “You are both mercurial. I have heard that he can be the most charming man one has ever met, only to turn and become a ninnyhammer the next.”

“Is that what you think of me? That I am a ninnyhammer?”

“Sometimes,” she replied.

He grinned and shook his head, looking away.

Silence settled between them, and for a while, the only sounds one could hear were the grinding of the wheels on the sandy road and the clip-clop of horses’ hooves.

Charlotte was grateful for the pause, not wishing for it to continue arguing endlessly.

They had arrived in front of the townhouse when Rhys spoke up. “I beg your pardon. I should not have been so unkind. The truthis, my mood did shift, but it was not your fault. Please accept my apology.”

Taken aback by his apology, she stared at him, not saying anything.

“I trust you still want me to accompany you to Islington tomorrow?” he asked.

She wanted to make a cutting remark, comment on his precious time and his more pressing duties, but bit back the venom.

“I would like it, yes,” she replied.

“Good. We shall collect Lady Margot on our way.”

He opened the carriage door and stepped down. Turning, he held out his hand. She glanced at it, then took it. The second her hand curled around his as he handed her out, that familiar jolt ripped through her.

Dash it all to hell, why did he make her feel this way even when they had just quarreled?

She did her best to maintain her composure and stepped onto the pavement, withdrawing her hand quickly.

They walked up the steps to the front door, and the butler let them in. Then, she quickly bade him good night and made herway up to her bedroom to put as much distance between them as she could.

CHAPTER 24

The following day, they stopped outside Harcourt House, and Margot immediately climbed into the carriage. Charlotte was much relieved, for up until then, conversation with Rhys had been stilted, to say the least.

It was as she had feared—he was once again withdrawing. Not entirely, not as he had done before, but sufficiently to let her know that something was troubling him.

He had informed her that he had compiled a list of properties to view, something she found quite remarkable, given she had only mentioned her desire to view properties the day before. However, he had not yet shared them with her.

“Good morning, Lord Ravenscar, Lady Ravenscar,” Margot greeted, settling in her seat. She smiled broadly at them both, but then, sensing the strained atmosphere, she regarded them thoughtfully. “Am I correct to assume that you are both suffering the effects of last evening’s festivities?”

“I did not sleep well,” Charlotte confessed.

Though it had nothing to do with the previous evening’s exploits. Rather, she had been thinking of Rhys most of the night and wondering why he was conducting himself in such a manner.

“I see,” Margot murmured. “Well, I dare say the excitement of the day will lift your spirits considerably. Where are we going first?”

“There is a building that I spotted a few weeks ago, situated right on the edge of Islington. It seems simple enough to acquire, though I have never been inside, and Gideon informed me that it needed considerable repair.”

Gideon. So it was his friend, Gideon Marsh, who had assisted him in compiling this list.