Page 7 of The Viscount's Diamond Bride
“Time will tell,” he answered briskly. “Is there anything else I may do for you?”
He intended to end the conversation, of course. There was something in the way Lady Ursula looked at him and in the way she avoided eye contact which made his skin prickle. That was not a good start. He wished to avoid entanglements, and that meant avoiding conversations with attractive, intelligent young women.
“No,” Lady Ursula responded at once, immediately stiffening up. The warmth in her eyes faded altogether, until Graham was not entirely sure that it had been there in the first place.
With that, they moved past each other, heads head high and continued their book-browsing. Graham found himself glancing back over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of her one more time, but to his dismay she had left.
And a good thing, too,he thought sourly.What are you thinking, fancying the Diamond of the Season? The woman that every man wants? You’re a fool, Graham, and a big one at that.
It was only when he walked away that Graham realised that he had not introduced himself to Lady Ursula, and nor had she asked.
***
Charlotte allowed her fingers to trail along the spines of the books without looking at them.
Ursula was deep in conversation with Viscount Sinclair, a very eligible man that was, according to rumour, on the lookout for a wife this Season. Or rather, his mother was searching for one on his behalf.
Charlotte did not approve of such weak men, but it was unfortunately common in Society. She rarely gave thought to her own future husband, as such a man had never presented himself, but she wouldneverwed a man who relied on his parents to organize his life. It was simply childish.
I should be less harsh,she thought grimly.Ursula’s mamma is all but arranginghermatrimony.
However, if Ursula were to establish a connection with a gentleman on her own grounds… well, that would be good, would it not? Lord Sinclair was a man whoread, at the very least. That was better than nothing.
Her questing fingers slid across a pair of warm, masculine knuckles, and she spun around, whisking her hand away.
Standing beside her was a young man, equally shocked, with wide brown eyes and a tousled mop of dark hair.
“Do forgive me,” he stuttered. “I did not see you there.”
Charlotte curled her fingers into a fist. For some reason, they were still tingling from the touch which made no sense to her.
“Pray, think nothing of it as it was purely accidental.”
He gave a wry smile. “I believe we were reaching for the same book.”
“Well, I shall insist on you taking it.”
“I will not hear of it,” the man answered firmly, taking the book – a volume of Shakespeare’s sonnets, Charlotte noticed – and handing it to her. “I am Lord Hartwell.”
“I am Miss Winter. My friend is Lady Ursula over there, talking to that gentleman.”
Lord Hartwell’s eyes sharpened. “How interesting. That gentleman is Lord Sinclair. He ismyfriend.”
Charlotte tilted her head to one side. “What a fascinating coincidence.”
He smiled back at her, something tentative and hopeful in his eyes. Charlotte’s heart pounded just a little faster and harder inside her chest.
“Yes. Fascinating indeed!”
Chapter Three
“Nothing ever becomes real ‘til it is experienced.”– John Keats
Charlotte hurried forward to greet Ursula, beaming.
“There you are! I am positively delighted you could come after all. Mama and Papa will be pleased to see you.”
Ursula gave a wry smile. “As if my mother would allow me to miss a party. Not to mentionIwould never dare miss your first ball of the Season.”
