A Spinster for the Marquess (Rogues and Laces) Read online

  Lifting her chin, Charlotte made her way back towards the house, determined not to show even a bit of embarrassment when Lord Astor looked her way, as she was sure he would. Neither would she allow herself to behave in such a scandalous way again. The experience had been more than enough, no matter how much she desired to repeat it.

  Hurrying indoors, Charlotte managed to slip inside without anyone noticing. Taking a breath, she attempted to look composed and, on spotting Theodora, made her way slowly towards her.

  Theodora, of course, was talking to Lord Markham. Their heads were bent together, the happiness in their eyes unmistakable. Charlotte could not help but feel a slow sense of defeat settling over her as she watched them. Despite her attempts to show Theodora that the man was not to be trusted, it seemed he only had eyes for her.

  And yet, she had been taken in, in much the same way.

  “I think both our plans have failed this evening.”

  Charlotte jumped visibly but did not turn to look at Lord Astor, her heart already beating a little more quickly.

  “It appears so, my lord.”

  He came around to face her, an apologetic smile on his face. “I should not have left you so in the gardens.”

  “Please,” Charlotte whispered, her cheeks burning. “Let us not speak of it.” There was a pause, and Charlotte could feel the tension growing between them at her words. “At least, not here,” she finished, managing to glance at him. There was something of a relieved look in his expression and he nodded, clearing his throat as he looked back at his brother.

  “I have tried to convince him of his folly, but he will not have it,” he muttered, surprising Charlotte with the passion of his sentiment.

  “Folly?” she repeated, bristling. “My sister is not a lady who encourages affections from as many gentlemen as possible, my lord. She is not a flirt, if that is what you think.” Anger heated some of her words, but much to her surprise, Lord Astor chuckled to himself.

  “You are very defensive, Miss Cadogan,” he murmured with a wry smile. “But then again, that is a good quality when it comes to siblings, I think.”

  Her frustration died away as she regarded him, a little unsure as to what he meant.

  “I confess that my consideration of your sister is somewhat tainted,” he continued with a heavy sigh. “Although mayhap you are right—I should not consider her a flirt if you tell me she is not.”

  Charlotte lifted her chin. “We may not know each other particularly well, Lord Astor, but I must tell you that on this matter, I can be trusted.”

  He studied her for a moment, before nodding. “Yes, I believe you can be.”

  He sighed and shook his head, irritation playing around his mouth. “If you will accept it, then I apologise for suggesting that my brother is entering into some kind of folly with your sister.”

  Surprised, Charlotte regarded him with astonishment. “You are very good to say so, my lord. I thank you, and in this case, I accept your apology.” When he smiled at her, Charlotte could not help but return it, a warm glow building within her. “Might I ask, what is it that has turned you away from my fair sex in such a way?” Her curiosity got the better of her even though her mind burned with the knowledge that he had, of course, had no qualms when it came to kissing her only a few minutes previously!

  Lord Astor did not reply for a moment or two, leaving Charlotte feeling self-conscious about her curiosity. Mayhap she ought not to have said anything at all! Embarrassed, she made to take her leave, but he caught her arm and shook his head.

  “I do not mind you asking, Miss Cadogan,” he said, quietly. “I was simply considering how best to speak of it.”

  “It is painful to you?” Charlotte asked, more than aware that warmth from his hand was seeping through her sleeve and setting her entire body alight. She drew in a long, slow breath, keeping her smile fixed so that he did not become aware of the effect he was having on her.

  “It is,” he muttered, shaking his head. “In truth, Miss Cadogan, my distrust of ladies is well founded. It comes from an engagement I was forced to break off.”

  Charlotte swallowed hard, struggling to keep her astonishment hidden.

  “The lady in question was not particularly interested in faithfulness, even before we were wed,” he continued, his gaze drifting away from her as he recalled the memory of it. “I see now that she simply wished for a title and fortune above her own.”

  Whilst sorry for the pain he had gone through, Charlotte could not help but frown a little. “But she had a fortune of her own?”

  Lord Astor laughed harshly. “Yes, indeed she did, but it appears that my title was all she wanted. A life of being looked up to and respected—but that did not include respect for me, it seems.”

  “But you cannot think that my sister wishes for—”

  “No,” he interrupted, his demeanour growing somewhat rigid. “You are quite right. I see now that she is dedicated to my brother, even though he is a second son. I should not have suggested anything untoward about her character.”

  “And so I must conclude that you are not the kind of gentleman to toy with a lady’s affections,” she said, trying to keep her gaze steady even though her cheeks burned with heat. “After all, if you find such behaviour so repugnant, then you would not indulge in such a comportment yourself.”

  Lord Astor held her gaze steadily, although he tugged at the collar of his starched shirt with one finger as he cleared his throat.

  “No, I would not,” he said stiffly. “If I show any affection towards a lady, it is because I feel something for her.”

  Charlotte felt her heart leap in her chest, but much to her surprise, Lord Astor looked to be leaving her company instead of continuing their careful conversation.

  He nodded his expression distant and aloof. “You will excuse me now.”

  He executed a perfect bow, cleared his throat, and turned away from her, but not before his eyes had burned a hole in her very soul. Charlotte felt as though she had been knocked to one side, such was her surprise at being both spoken to and treated in such a way. He had been honest with her at least, but that honesty had pushed him away from her in such an abrupt fashion that Charlotte could not help but feel a little slighted.

  At the same time, she had to admit that his story was close to her own, and therefore, she could understand his feelings when it came to her sister. At least now he was able to admit that Theodora was not what he thought.

  Lifting her chin a notch, Charlotte continued to walk to the corner of the room, her eyes searching for her sister. She saw her almost at once, her head bowed a little as she listened to something Lord Markham said. The smile on her face and the happiness in her eyes told Charlotte that her sister was, truly, besotted with the man—and yet, still, her suspicions persisted.

  She could not let go of her concerns as easily as Lord Astor had. In fact, he had not spoken to her about his brother in any negative way, which meant she had no particular reason to assume he was any different from any other upstanding gentleman. That said, for the time being, and until Lord Markham proved himself, Charlotte was determined to watch her sister closely and remove her from his presence should she have to.

  Only time would tell whether he was a decent man, worthy of her sister’s heart. Charlotte did not mind waiting.

  SEVEN

  Charles sighed heavily as his brother gushed, yet again, about Miss Theodora. Of course, it was only because he was delighted at the thought of seeing her again this evening after two days apart, but still, his words made Charles weary.

  “Please, do try and keep your infatuation a little more under wraps,” he warned, as they entered the ballroom. “I am well aware that you care for Miss Theodora, but you do not yet know her well at all.”

  “I am getting to know her more and more, and with every encounter, I find my heart filling with an even deeper affection,” William declared, already looking around the room for her. “I intend to marry her, you know.”


  Charles stopped and stared at his brother, his heart slamming into his chest with such force that he lost his breath for a moment.

  “You need not look so surprised,” William commented, apparently unperturbed by his brother’s astonished look. “You know very well that I care a great deal about her.”

  “But to offer her marriage is quite a big step, brother!” Charles exclaimed, worry beginning to wind its way around him, constricting his chest. “Take some time, I beg of you!”

  William shook his head, his eyes dancing with happiness. “What is the point of waiting, Charles, when I know I have found the only woman in England who can make me happy?”

  Charles tried his best to think of a response, tried to come up with something concrete, but his words died on his lips before he could even say them. There was nothing he could think to say, nothing that was a good enough reason for his brother to delay. He turned to pick up a glass of something bubbly from the footman, his mind scrambling for ideas.

  “You see, Astor?” came the quiet response. “She is not what you thought. She is as devoted to me as I am to her, even after such a short acquaintance. I cannot bear to think of myself without her by my side.”

  There was nothing for Charles to say but to mutter some kind of congratulatory remarks as he desperately tried to rein in his growing worry. William, to his credit, did not demand that Charles look delighted about it, nor that he give him his blessing, but rather held his gaze for a moment with an understanding look in his eyes—before stepping away in order to search for his dear Miss Theodora.

  Charles lifted the glass to his lips and drank heavily, emptying it at once. Handing the empty glass back to the footman, he picked up another, only to force himself to put it back. His mind was filled with thoughts about his broken heart, the way he had seen his betrothed caught up with another. In his mind’s eye, he saw Miss Theodora as Miss Douglas, the woman who had betrayed him even before they were wed.

  Yet, Charles had to admit that Miss Theodora only had eyes for his brother. She had not looked at him once, even though he was the marquess and therefore held the better title. Even when he had dragged her away from his brother two nights ago at their soiree, she had done nothing but search for William with her gaze, not paying the least bit of attention to him. He had not even been able to hold a decent conversation with the lady!

  Miss Douglas, on the other hand, had been quite the opposite. She had talked and laughed with all gentlemen, and at the time, he had thought her simply friendly and talkative. Too late, he had realised just how much of a flirt she was. How his heart had torn apart when he had seen her true nature for the first time!

  “Get your mind off the past,” he muttered to himself, as his brother hurried over to greet Miss Theodora, who had eyes for no one else. He had to stop worrying that his brother was going to fall into the same trap as he, for Miss Theodora was not exhibiting any of the same behaviours that Miss Douglas had—so what was there for him to worry about?

  All the same, Charles struggled to push the worry from his mind, constantly going over what might happen to his brother were Miss Theodora to prove untrue. He had never seen William behave in this way over any lady before, and the declaration that he intended to marry her had sent shockwaves rushing through Charles. It had felt as though the earth had moved beneath his feet, an ominous rumbling surrounding him.

  And then, suddenly, everything seemed to still.

  Miss Cadogan appeared next to her sister, greeting Lord Markham with a deep curtsy. Her eyes held worry and concern, but she smiled nonetheless. Charles could hardly catch his breath, such was the beauty he saw before him. Her hair was tied back in an intricate fashion, with a few curls of hair dancing around her temples and ears. Her dress was a beautiful shade of azure, and her entire presentation was one of grace and poise. He was drawn to her at once, recalling how soft and warm she had been when he had embraced her.

  As much as he had tried, Charles had not regretted kissing Miss Cadogan, even though he knew it had not at all been the right thing to do. He was meant to be thinking of an arrangement for his future marriage, not to lose himself in feelings for another lady who might prove to be just as fickle as Miss Douglas. Yet, despite this, he had caught himself thinking of her these last two days since their kiss in the gardens, and to see her again made his heart burst with a sudden, inexplicable joy.

  He made to move towards her, hoping to greet her and secure a dance or two, only for her eyes to widen as she caught sight of someone—or something—to his left. Turning to look, Charles saw a gentleman with a shock of dark hair looking back at Miss Cadogan, a slow smile spreading across his face. His stomach rolled with sudden nausea as he looked back at Miss Cadogan, but instead of seeing a smile of greeting on her face, he saw that she looked almost terrified. Her face had paled, the smile had gone from her lips, and she was twisting her hands together in almost frantic agitation. Evidently, the man was known to her. Frowning, Charles held back for a moment longer, not quite sure what her reaction to the unknown gentleman was. Did she want to see him? Was she surprised to see him? And, in that surprise, was there a gladness in her heart or a fear?

  “Ah, Lord Astor!”

  Pulling himself from his thoughts, Charles pasted a quick smile on his face as his brother and Miss Theodora approached him, with Miss Cadogan hurrying quickly behind.

  “Good evening, Miss Theodora,” he said pleasantly. “Good evening, Miss Cadogan.”

  They curtsied, and he inclined his head before enquiring as to whether he might put his name down on their dance cards. Miss Theodora obliged, after a quick glance up into Lord Markham’s face, and Charles dutifully wrote his name down in one space only. However, for Miss Cadogan—who still appeared somewhat distracted—he wrote his name down for two separate dances, one being the waltz. He handed her back the card, and a blush rose to her cheeks at once as she glanced down at where he had written his name.

  “I very much look forward to our dances, Miss Cadogan,” he murmured, as Miss Theodora and his brother went in search of something to drink. “And may I say how well you look this evening. It is good to see you again.”

  The rosy glow in her cheeks deepened. “You are very kind, my lord. I am glad to see you also.”

  Charles smiled, warmth blossoming in his chest at her reaction to him. When she raised her eyes to his, he felt heat burst in his core, his eyes returning to her lips. He wanted to kiss her again, to take her out to the gardens and find a secluded spot where no one could disturb them. His awareness of her was already heightened, his desire for her growing as he pictured the two of them together once more. His mind was screaming at him to think sensibly, to remind himself of all the pain he had gone through, but he simply could not prevent himself from being utterly captured by her.

  “Miss Cadogan? I believe this is our dance.”

  “Oh,” she exclaimed, turning to the gentleman who had approached her. “Of course, you are right, Lord Worthington. Do excuse me, Lord Astor.”

  Charles bowed his head but kept his gaze on hers, seeing the answering glow within the depths of her eyes. Was she remembering what they had shared at his soiree? She did not appear to be backing away from him, separating herself from him as she might if she had no desire to be near to him. That gave him a sense of satisfaction, knowing that she had some kind of affection for him.

  But it means nothing, if she is not true.

  Biting his lip, Charles frowned heavily as he watched her dance, aware that his past was still interfering with his future. He should not be toying with her if he had no intention of courting her. And courting meant the possibility of matrimony. Was he truly considering her as a possible match? Could he find a way to prove to himself that she was nothing like Sarah Douglas? Was there a way he could forget about his past entirely and not, as Miss Cadogan had mentioned, tar them both with the same brush?

  Soon interrupted by other acquaintances hoping to secure a dance with him, Charles was caught up
in dances, conversations, and alluring smiles—although he allowed none of the latter to catch his attention. He did not have any particular interest in any of the young ladies eager for his company. The only one he thought of was Miss Cadogan.

  When the time came for their first dance together, Charles went in search of her with an eagerness in his heart that surprised even him. He saw her talking to the gentleman who had caught her attention earlier, and pausing in his steps towards her, he waited to watch the exchange.

  There was something about it that unsettled him, for Miss Cadogan appeared to be upset, although she was attempting to hide it. Her eyes were bright with something like anger, her lips thin and her face pale. She made to turn from the gentleman, only for him to catch her arm and turn her back towards him.

  Charles had to force himself back, aware that Miss Cadogan was now glaring at the man as she wrenched her arm away from him. There was clearly something between them, something that was not altogether good. Should he go to her aid or leave her to sort out the situation on her own?

  Recalling that he was, after all, meant to be seeking her hand for a dance, Charles began to move towards her once more, only for her to turn away from the other gentleman and hurry away. His eyes remained on her, seeing her exit the ballroom and go into the gardens as if trying to run from the man. Frowning, he looked back to see where the gentleman in question had gone, only to find he had disappeared completely.

  “How irritating,” he mumbled, scanning the room as surreptitiously as he could manage. The gentleman could not be found, and something like anxiety rose in his chest as he began to make his way out towards the gardens. He did not care about his lost dance with Miss Cadogan, but rather grew concerned for her. He would make sure she was all right before returning to the ballroom.

  Cursing under his breath, Charles stepped outside, aware of just how much he was beginning to care about Miss Cadogan and finding that the idea did not repulse him as it once had.

  Where was she? Something drove him on, something he could not explain as he attempted to find her. His feet crunched over the gravel path as he carefully avoided those walking arm in arm and the shadows moving in various alcoves. She had to be somewhere, and he was determined to find her, even if it took him the rest of the evening.