Chapter 16
Sixteen
There she was. Miss Charlotte Robbins, walking down the street past William’s door.
He grabbed the first jacket his hand came to and threw it on as he raced down the stairs and outside. He slowed his walk, just in case she turned to look and saw him running like a madman. But at this rate, they’d be at Hyde Park before he caught up to her.
“Miss Robbins?” William called at what he hoped was an appropriate volume.
She turned and broke into a smile. She and her companion stopped and waited for him.
His heart seemed to think he was running uphill, and his cravat was suddenly too tight around his neck. But he managed to speak. “Good day, Miss Robbins.”
“Good day, Lord Brookhaven.”
Her smile was so beautiful. Thankfully, they continued walking so he wasn’t staring straight at her anymore.
She said, “I received the invitation you sent, for the ball at your home.”
“I hope you will be able to attend.”
“Yes, thank you. I was planning to send my acceptance this afternoon. And how are Samuel and Annabelle?”
“They are well. They were very happy that you came and visited them.”
“I have longed to see them. Perhaps you would allow them to come on a walk to Hyde Park with me soon?”
“Yes, of course. Name the day and we shall all accompany you.”
“Tomorrow, if that suits.”
“Of course. Tomorrow it shall be.”
“I have invited someone you know, Miss Millicent Skidmore, to visit me. If she arrives before the ball, will your invitation include her?”
“Yes, of course. I will send a revised invitation right away. Anyone you wish to bring with you is invited, in fact, if you have any other friends visiting.”
“Thank you, that is very kind.” She smiled as if she could see right through him, as though she knew he would do anything for her . . . as if she knew what he’d done. But she couldn’t know, could she?
They continued walking toward Hyde Park while they talked—Miss Robbins, Mrs. Drake, and William.
At once it was like their walks at Lowndesbury House, and not at all like that.
For one thing, on their old walks they’d been alone, able to speak more intimately.
Miss Robbins was now a wealthy lady, not a poor orphaned governess, and her clothing and even the tilt of her head and shoulders seemed to indicate her new status, although her face was as lovely as ever, her eyes as sparkling and blue.
He needed to say something before she realized his lovesick thoughts.
“There will be some people at the ball that you’ve met before.”
“Oh?”
“Lord Markeley and Mr. Merritt will be attending.”
Her smile faltered. He’d suspected they’d said something to her the last night she’d dined with the house party group that had caused her to refuse to attend again. Would she be able to overlook whatever they’d said, now that she had a fortune of her own? They’d got on so well, until that dinner.
“And I suppose Miss Rutledge will be there with Mr. and Mrs. Rutledge?”
“Indeed, no. They are not in London just now.”
Her expression brightened when he said Miss Rutledge wouldn’t be there. Did that mean she was jealous of Rose Rutledge?
Not necessarily. He knew Miss Rutledge hadn’t been very kind to her. Charlotte was probably just relieved that she wouldn’t have to see the person who had been so unfriendly to her.
They walked along in silence, even though there were so many things he wanted to say and ask. Had she been enjoying being able to be mistress of her own home in London? Were there places in London she’d like to visit, places he could show her? How did it feel to have her own fortune?
When she’d arrived at Lowndesbury House, she’d been so kind, so forthright and artless, so unafraid to say what she really thought. Would the fortune change her? Did she feel differently about him now?
Mrs. Drake began to talk of balls she’d attended as a young lady.
It was the kind of inane chatter he’d endured many times before, the kind he could easily ignore.
Charlotte merely stared straight ahead, occasionally glancing at her chaperone to nod and smile.
Mrs. Drake dropped names of many important people she’d met or with whose sons she’d danced.
Miss Robbins didn’t speak, and he imagined she wasn’t even listening, as there was frequently a faraway look on her face, and she glanced at him once or twice.
They arrived at the park where he tried to steer them away from people as much as possible.
But inevitably someone recognized him. The mother of the marriageable Miss Martindale, whose father had been a close acquaintance of his father, approached them.
Unfortunately, she seemed set on him noticing her daughter, as they had both called on him multiple times.
Fortunately, he’d been away from home each time, and they’d invited him to dine at their home, an invitation he’d been able to decline all but once.
It had been an uncomfortable evening of rather obvious insinuations and hopes.
“Lord Brookhaven,” Mrs. Martindale cried out in delighted tones.
“Mrs. Martindale. You are looking well.”
“Say nothing of me, although I have been rather well. You are the picture of health, I must say. And you remember my daughter, Miss Elizabeth Martindale.”
“Of course. Pleased to see you again, Miss Martindale.”
The young lady bridled and smirked, while her mother stared pointedly at Charlotte.
“I’d heard you might be giving a ball while you were in town, but I have never known you to give a ball.” Mrs. Martindale patted his arm with her fan as if they were old friends.
He supposed he couldn’t not invite her now without giving offense, even though it was in poor taste and bad manners for her to practically invite herself.
“I shall send you an invitation.”
Her face lit up. “Then it is true! A ball given by the Earl of Brookhaven. Delightful, indeed.”
She was deliberately excluding Miss Robbins, who looked as if she was about to walk away.
“Mrs. Martindale, this is Miss Charlotte Robbins and her companion, Mrs. Drake. Miss Robbins and Mrs. Drake, this is Mrs. Edward Martindale and her daughter, Miss Elizabeth Martindale.”
Charlotte smiled and nodded politely. “Very pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Mrs. Martindale stared. “And how do you know Lord Brookhaven, my dear?”
“I was in his employ at Lowndesbury House, as the governess for his brother and sister.”
Mrs. Martindale actually leaned away from Charlotte and laid a hand over her chest. “The governess. Oh, I see.” A look of horror came over her face, as if she were witnessing a crime being committed right in front of her.
“Miss Robbins recently inherited a large fortune from her uncle,” he was quick to say.
“A fortune, did she?” Mrs. Martindale mumbled.
Charlotte’s look was defiant, so Mrs. Drake rushed to intercede.
“Miss Robbins had an uncle, whom she hadn’t known, who left her fifty thousand pounds.” She whispered the last part, as if whispering made it more genteel and appropriate to tell the exact sum.
“Oh.” Mrs. Martindale raised her brows, as if Charlotte had done something to admire.
“Yes, and now I am rich enough to buy my way into society.” There was a feisty smirk on Charlotte’s face.
Mrs. Martindale’s eyelids fluttered and she started fanning herself, frowning ferociously at Charlotte, who looked amused.
He couldn’t help smiling at Charlotte’s pluck and vinegar. But would that same pluck and vinegar gain her friends? Or enemies? It was too soon to tell.
After that exchange, they kept meeting more people, and he couldn’t converse with Charlotte as they had at Lowndesbury House. He could feel his frustration rising with the heat in his forehead.
“Are you ready to turn back?” he asked her. It was rude of him, but if he had to talk to one more person, he might end up doing or saying something they’d all regret.
She said, “I suppose I am.”
As they left the park and were walking down the street, they met a young man whose face showed recognition when he saw Mrs. Drake. Then his eye was obviously caught by Charlotte Robbins’s fair face and figure.
“Mrs. Drake, it is so good to see you.” He stepped forward to greet her.
“Mr. Welton, you are looking well.” Mrs. Drake smiled quite broadly. She made the introductions, introducing him as Mr. Anthony Welton, the son of one of her friends. Mrs. Drake introduced Charlotte and added, “She has just let a house on Grosvenor Square.”
“Miss Robbins, it is truly a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He reached for her hand, but she pretended not to notice.
William didn’t trust this Anthony Welton. He had dark, shifty eyes that showed an obvious interest in Charlotte, especially after hearing she had a house on Grosvenor Square.
“Perhaps I will see you at a theatrical or a concert in town,” he said. “Do you like theatricals?”
“I don’t know, as I have never been to one.”
“I would be glad to escort you. Will you allow me to call on you tomorrow?”
Charlotte looked uncertain, but Mrs. Drake said, “Of course you may. Here is one of Miss Robbins’s cards. The direction is on the back.”
The cheeky blighter pressed the card to his chest. “Thank you. I shall call on you tomorrow.” He excused himself, having never once looked William directly in the eye.
They continued on their way, but he had an uncomfortable feeling.
Would Charlotte welcome that man’s attention?
She would receive him tomorrow, even though he was a stranger to her, after only one brief introduction, after Mrs. Drake invited him.
Of course, it wasn’t wrong for her to do so, but it stirred up something inside William’s chest that he didn’t like.
Mrs. Drake started talking as if her job was to prevent even a moment of silence. The only way he could hold onto his sanity was by ignoring her—and talking over her.
“Miss Robbins, how are you settling in to life in London?” It was an inane question, but was the first thing that came to mind, and it blessedly caused Mrs. Drake to stop speaking.