‘In future your mama may send you with us, should she be unable to attend a function to which we are invited.’
‘You are so kind,’ Julia said, thanking her again as the carriage stopped and a groom came to open the door for her, after first knocking at her house so that her footman had the front door open and waiting for her. ‘Goodnight, Charlotte. I shall see you tomorrow.’
‘Yes. I shall look forward to it.’
Charlotte sat back against the squabs after Julia had gone and closed her eyes, thinking of the evening she had enjoyed—and the partners who had given her the most pleasure. Captain Young and Captain Viscount Delsey—both of them were excellent dancers, but very different in other respects. Of the two, only Jack Delsey had made her lose control of her senses for a short time, though Christopher Young had come to her between dances and asked if he might take her driving one day.
‘I know we are not much acquainted,’ he’d said, ‘but I feel as if I have known you all my life—and I should like to know you better, if you would like it?’
‘Thank you. Yes, I should be happy to drive out with you one day,’ Charlotte had said, smiling up into his blue eyes. ‘You must call on Papa, sir. I am sure he would invite you to dine with us one evening.’
‘You did very well this evening.’ Mama’s voice interrupted her train of thought and Charlotte opened her eyes. ‘Sir Percival seemed quite taken with you—and I believe you danced every dance, my dear.’
‘Yes, Mama, I did,’ she agreed. ‘It was the most enjoyable evening.’
‘Did you know that Captain Young is the heir of Lord Sampson?’
‘No, Mama, I did not realise that,’ Charlotte said. Lord Sampson was a neighbour of Papa’s in the country, but the estates were some fifteen miles distant and Charlotte saw little of the elderly gentleman, who was something of a recluse.
‘Neither did I until Papa told me,’ her mama said with a look of satisfaction. ‘Lord Sampson is quite comfortably off, Charlotte—wealthy, in fact. His heir will be in possession of a large fortune in the future...but I do not imagine that he personally has the funds to settle Papa’s debts. Sir Percival is not as wealthy as one might like, but at least his fortune is his own. Not every gentleman is as fortunate, my love.’
‘No, I imagine not.’ Charlotte realised what her mother was telling her. The charming officer had prospects, but if her marriage was to ease her father’s burden of debt, she needed someone already in possession of a fortune: such as Sir Percival.
Turning her face aside, Charlotte swallowed the little lump that had formed in her throat. She had liked Captain Young very much...almost as much as Captain Delsey, but while the one might perhaps offer her marriage she was fairly certain that it was far from the mind of the other. Sir Percival was a pleasant gentleman, but he had not made her flesh tingle when he held her as they danced.
Tears stung her eyes for a moment as she wished that her father had not wasted his fortune and obliged her to think of such things. She longed to be free to follow her heart, but knew that in the end she might have to settle for less than she wanted.
Jack yawned over his brandy as he relaxed in his boldly patterned silk dressing gown, his feet stretched out before him, his head back against the soft leather of the comfortable wing chair in his private sitting room. What he had expected to be a tedious evening in the company of his cousin, of whom he was fond but not in the least enamoured, had turned out to be more promising than he’d imagined.
He had no idea what had made him flirt so outrageously with a certain young lady. Jack’s aversion to becoming emotionally involved with a beautiful girl ran deep and was of some years’ duration. Normally, he reserved his flirting for older—married, or widowed—ladies, who understood that nothing serious was meant or offered. After all, even if he was considering a marriage of convenience, he had no intention of ever allowing a woman to take over his heart and mind, to inflict the kind of pain that he knew could result from loving too much. He knew from experience how disastrous that could be, for he had learned it when very young and seen two people dear to him nearly destroyed by a love that was too powerful.
However, Miss Charlotte Stevens was a revelation. He’d known from the first that she was a bold minx, because of that escapade when she had narrowly escaped being abused by a pair of rogues. Though, in fairness, what was a man to think when a young woman went about dressed as a youth—and, according to one of the men, had been seen climbing out of a window?
Whose window might that be? Jack pondered the mystery, a half-smile on his mouth. Had she been visiting her lover—or was there more behind her reckless behaviour?
Having spent some time in her brother’s company, Jack was inclined to think that her mission might have been in some way related to him, simply because he was not the kind of young man to acquiesce to his sister behaving loosely. Indeed, Jack had seen him frown when Charlotte danced with a man who was known to have questionable morals. He’d been waiting to let her into the servants’ quarters that night, so he must have known where she’d been—but surely he could not condone his sister going out alone in the guise of a youth? It was far too dangerous!
Jack had seen enough of the girl at their first meeting to be intrigued, for she had a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and a way of laughing that caught one’s interest. There had been nothing in her behaviour then, or that evening, to suggest that she was wayward or indeed wanton. Yet in his arms she had seemed to become a different girl. Light and nimble, she moved with him instinctively and he did not recall having felt so swept away by passion while dancing ever before. When their waltz ended and she seemed a little dazed, he’d known an overwhelming urge to sweep her up in his arms and run away to somewhere quiet where they would not be disturbed. His arousal had been almost painful and he’d wanted to shower her with hot kisses and feel the satin softness of her skin as they lay together...but he’d known that he could not treat her in such a fashion. She was the daughter of a gentleman...but was she a lady?
Jack frowned, because the need to question made him angry. He did not wish to think ill of her—but what lady would act as she had? What could possibly have driven her to such reckless behaviour?
He could not bring anything to mind. Surely Matthew Stevens was not so careless of his sister’s safety that he would allow her to go wandering about alone at night...and why had she climbed out of a window? Had she also climbed into the window of a house across the park?
Jack frowned over it as he tried to remember who lived in the houses at the other side of St James’s Park. But of course, he couldn’t be sure how far those rogues had chased her before she ran from the park gates.
Shaking his head, he finished his brandy and thought about pouring another, but decided against it.
He was no nearer to solving the puzzle of Miss Charlotte Stevens, but he had no intention of letting the matter drop. Jack would make it his business to discover more about the family and their circumstances. They were newcomers to the social scene in London. Though they had presumably come to give their daughter a Season, their background might bear more investigation. The best way to discover what he needed to know was to cultivate Matt Stevens’s acquaintance; a few card evenings and a drinking session at the club should prove enlightening, for he believed that the young man would be easy enough to pump for information.
Jack did not consider what his interest in the girl might be when he discovered what he needed to know; it was merely a mystery to be unravelled, which amused him, and a mild flirtation with a pretty girl was never a waste of time, though where it might lead was another matter.
* * *
Next day, Jack saw the two girls