Page 46 of Tempted By an Unconventional Lady
But as Charlotte looked out of the sea of faces, one stood out, and not only because he was a good head taller than many ofthe others. He seemed ethereal, not truly there. Like a mirage or a ghost from her past.
Alexander.
He must have sensed her staring for he raised his head. Their eyes met and though he held her gaze, he continued talking to the person he was with. It was, as always, an intense stare, one that set her heart thrumming against her chest. He had a way of snatching her breath away, even when he was across the room and nowhere near her.
Is he real?
All around her, the sound dimmed to a murmur against the scream of her thoughts, of her heart. Would he speak to her? Would he, perhaps, apologize for leaving without saying goodbye?
No, surely not.
He didn’t think her that important, or he would have made the effort in Hampshire. She was nothing to him and that was all right with her. That was how she wanted it. She had made it perfectly clear, after all, that she never wanted a husband, and what was a love interest if not a precursor to marriage?
No, she had been a plaything to him, a little entertainment while out of the city. And that was how she wouldthink of him, too. As nothing but a light-hearted distraction. And yet she still couldn’t pull her eyes from him.
“Charlotte? Are you listening?”
“What? Oh!” She turned as she giggled at Uncle Elliot. “I am sorry. I don’t know where I was then.”
“Away with the fairies,” he replied with a disapproving grimace. “As you have been so often of late. I do wish you’d share your woes with me. As your guardian, I am here to help.”
“I know but I promise, it is nothing. I miss Chelsea, that’s all.”
Her full attention was on her uncle once more, though something seemed to radiate from where the duke stood, some heat or force that called to her, begging her to turn around and see him. She didn’t dare glance at him again. For one thing, she was furious at him for his rudeness. For another, she was furious at herself for wanting to see him again. For craving his attention. She had been such a fool in Hampshire.
“Is it only that or something more?” he asked, ducking his head as though to capture her attention. “You can tell your old uncle, you know. Perhaps I can help.”
“Honestly,” she insisted, though her heart warmed at his kindness, “it is nothing.”
He smiled. “I do wonder whether it is a little jealousy that your friend is married yet you remain a spinster.”
Horrified, Charlotte opened her mouth to reply but before she could, another voice spoke from behind her.
“Who is a spinster?”
She froze, her body still and her eyes wide. It was the duke! He was right behind her! She would know that voice anywhere. That heat she had felt from across the room now burned into her back. She could feel him as clearly as if he had pressed his body against hers—and her own body responded as if he had.
“Ah, Your Grace! How good to see you again,” Uncle Elliot said, beaming up at him.
Knowing she had no choice left to her, Charlotte turned around and offered him a weak smile.
“And you too,” the duke replied. He lowered his gaze until his eyes met Charlotte’s. “I must admit, I was a little surprised to see you both here. I hadn’t realized you were back in London so soon.”
“What was there to stay in Hampshire for?” Charlotte retorted. “Lord and Lady Leming are traveling for theirhoneymoon, and any friends I may have made while at the house are certainly no longer there.”
Or no longer friends.
The attraction she had felt had morphed into anger, though heat still thrummed beneath the surface. She wanted to rage at him for using her, for enjoying her company and then leaving her without saying goodbye.
She wanted to accuse him of toying with her, to denounce him for the rake that he was for he had surely led her on. But she could do none of that because he was not hers to rail at, and what wrong had he truly done? He had promised her nothing, and she had made it perfectly clear that she wanted nothing.
“Charlotte,” Uncle Elliot said, clearly shocked by her harshness.
“It’s all right,” the duke said with a chuckle. “In the weeks we spent together, I learned to no longer feel shock at Miss Charlotte’s way with words. She is so different to the other ladies of theton.”
Charlotte’s scowl deepened. How wretched this man was, leaving her wanting and now teasing her. If he thought her that uncouth and unladylike, then perhaps he shouldn’t have been friends with her at all.
“I do believe I owe you an apology, though,” he continued.
