Chapter Ten #2
“I’ll admit, it’s rather strange I no longer feel that toward her. It simply… dissipated without me realizing it, and she doesn’t seem bothered by the engagement either.” Did that mean they were both settling or giving up, because that was easier than fighting the inevitable?
A snicker came from the duke. “That’s how it begins.”
“How what begins?”
“Love, of course. First, you’re wholly captivated by a woman, then you’re curious about what she’ll do next, then you can’t help but do unspeakable things to her, and finally, she’s infiltrated your every thought until you want to tell the world she belongs to you.”
“Ugh.” Willaim shook his head. “Thankfully, I’m not as far gone as all that.”
“Not yet.” The duke rested a hand on his knee while he shot William a knowing grin. “By the by, what are you doing about your midsummer ball? That day is rapidly approaching.”
“Shit. I’ve forgotten in the midst of everything else.” That yearly ball was usually quite the scandalous affair, and this year he’d hoped it would be even more so because it was heralded as a masquerade. But that was prior to meeting Charlotte.
At that point, Scarborough heaved to his feet. “Well, talk to your intended about it. You can tell much about a woman in how she organizes and hosts a society event. Let her take the lead. Perhaps she’ll prove the sensation of the summer. That can only be good for you.”
Suddenly, there was much to look forward to, and for the first time in a long while, he was excited about doing something with a woman that didn’t include sexual congress.
“I’ll do that.” As he spoke, William tugged out his pocket watch.
“Damn, I’ll be late. I’m to meet her at a tea house near Covent Garden in thirty minutes. Traffic at this hour is a crush.”
“Best wishes. And try not to overthink things. It’s not good for a man to be lost in thought. You might miss all the lovely bits right in front of you.”
“Ha. Thank you for the advice.”
“Come. I’ll walk out with you.”
*
Because he was so late, William drove a bit recklessly in order to reach his destination. He’d chosen a closed carriage instead of the curricle since the weather had turned rainy.
By the time he left his carriage at the nearest mews, he wasn’t in the mood to walk about in the rain, but there was nothing for it.
The top hat only kept some of the precipitation off his head, but it wetted his neck and he regretted not bringing an umbrella.
Nevertheless, he walked quickly toward the building where the tea café was housed.
It occupied half of the structure, while a florist held the lease for the other half.
Another interesting thought popped into his brain as he moved past the colorful displays of summertime blooms. What type of flowers were Charlotte’s favorites?
For that matter, did she have a favorite color?
A favorite fabric? Was her hair straight or curly when left unbound?
Though he’d taken the pins from the tresses yesterday, he hadn’t paid attention to that blonde waterfall, but now he couldn’t evict the question from his mind.
What the devil is wrong with me? When was the last time he’d ever cared about any of that from a woman?
Still thinking about all the things he didn’t know about her, once he entered the street, he wasn’t aware of the traffic, both vehicular and pedestrian, that went on around him.
While attempting to cross the road, he tripped when the toe of his boot encountered a hole in the hardpacked mud.
After another hour, it would probably fill with rainwater, but the incident jarred him out of his wandering musings.
Once he recovered, he adjusted his path.
Unfortunately, a carriage tearing along the street at too fast a pace came hurtling toward him.
With a curse at fate who insisted he continually fight misfortune and bad luck, he darted out of the way, but part of the vehicle’s frame clipped his left shoulder and scraped his cheek.
The force of that spun him about then he was tossed into the dirt and slowly forming mud.
“Hell’s bells!” William hit the ground with an ache in his shoulder and a cut on the side of his head.
Damn, but he hadn’t realized he’d tangled so much with the carriage.
As he reached to retrieve his errant top hat, the post chaise came rumbling through the thoroughfare.
There were seconds to spare as he gained his feet and threw himself out of the way of yet another vehicle whose driver simply didn’t care what was in his path.
“Why don’t you learn how to drive?” he yelled at the departing coach.
Of course, the driver didn’t halt.
More annoyed than he ought to be, William slapped his hat against the side of his leg then jammed it on his head.
A bit of a crowd was forming around him, no doubt to see if he was injured enough to collapse in the road or perhaps bleed out.
Unsteady on his feet, he attempted to ignore the crowd and glance at the other side of the street, and he hoped to God he didn’t look as horrible as he felt.