Page 8 of A Marriage Most Convenient

But had she heard that timbre before? “I have. The sunshine has been most pleasant.”

“And the moonlight is equally lovely,” he said.

She felt her eyes widen. It fit. He had the same athletic build and the appropriate ties to get into all of the opera houses, theatre boxes, balls and soirees that Jack had made his hunting grounds. The only thing that didn’t make sense was that she knew for a fact that Lord Carrolton was rather wealthy. Why would he need to steal jewels? That and his blonde locks, but wet hair was always darker, wasn’t it? So with the right amount of pomade, his hair could appear brownish.

Perhaps Willow could assist with that puzzle; she was always so keen with that sort of thing.

“The moonlight, my lord?” Charlotte asked.

“We’ve had such clear skies of late, and the moon has been bright and bold in the sky,” he said.

“One would hardly need a lamp to find his way around in the darkness then,” she said.

He paused for a moment, then his lips quirked slightly before speaking. “I suppose that would be true.”

Well, he certainly wasn’t giving anything away. Far be it from her to question good fortune if Jack pursued her as his true self. Encouraging his attention would only keep him near so she could continue to investigate, to see if he were, in fact, Jack.

“My lord, I very much enjoy riding in the park,” she said.

He smiled slowly. “Do you, Miss Reed? Well, it just so happens that I have a rig for such an occasion. But only if you cease calling me ‘my lord’ and use my Christian name. Michael.”

She inclined her head slightly. Men preferred bashful women, and while she’d never been particularly shy, she had learned how to pretend to be. It was generally effective.

“Michael,” she said. “And you may call me Charlotte.”

“Perhaps you would join me some afternoon this week, Charlotte,” he said.

“I would like that very much.”

Before they could continue their conversation, the song ended and he released her.

“I shall call upon you,” he said. With a bow, he stepped away. Rather quickly too. He did have a rather mysterious quality about him. Something about him made her uneasy, but she couldn’t pin down exactly what.

Charlotte maneuvered her way through the crowd until she returned to her party. Her sister was nowhere to be seen, no doubt she’d be found on the dance floor. In her place though was Willow and her brother, Edmond.

“And how is Lord Carrolton this evening?” Willow asked as Charlotte approached.

Edmond, on the other hand, gave a dismissive once-over before returning his gaze to the dance floor.

“Rather curious, if you ask me.” She swiped a glass of champagne from a passing footman’s tray and took a healthy sip. “A perfect candidate for Jack. But that does propose a question,” she said.

“What question?” Willow asked.

“Why would a man as wealthy as Carrolton need to steal? That simply makes no sense at all,” Charlotte said.

“Carrolton is not as wealthy as he would like people to believe,” Edmond muttered, not taking his gaze off the dance floor.

Willow nudged her brother’s side. “What do you know?”

He shrugged casually. “Only what I’ve heard.” He eyed his glass of champagne, then his sister. “No gossip, I can assure you. I merely have heard that he keeps up appearances, but that he recently lost a hefty sum of money in an unfortunate investment.”

“What sort of investment?” Charlotte asked.

Edmond’s eyes met hers and for the first time since she’d known him, she noted their color. She’d always assumed they were simply brown, like Willow’s. But on closer inspection, she could identify several flecks of gold woven through them. The realization flooded her with warmth, as if she’d discovered an intimate secret. A strange reaction, to be sure, as she’d looked at Edmond hundreds of times over the years. Since she and Willow had first become friends, nearly a decade before. But the full weight of his gaze was unnerving. Not uncomfortable, but knowing, as if he could see inside her. She tried to pull her gaze away, but found herself unwilling or unable to do so.

“I really couldn’t say,” he said. His tone was even, but if she were betting, she’d wager he was angry with her, or at the least irritated. Which was preposterous considering she’d done nothing to him. But she’d often suspected that Edmond did not approve of her. He rarely spoke to her, and when he did, he was concise, his tone terse. Polite, but cold.

“I should be going,” he said.

---