Annie Burrows - Four Regency Rogues

‘Good evening, my lord.’ She was fully aware of the effect she was having on him and it gave her a wonderful sense of gratification as she dipped a slight curtsy. She would teach him to call her plain and a hoyden!

He did not want to move on, but Lady Brandon was already approaching the next group and he had perforce to follow. It was not until he had perambulated round the entire room, smiling at the young ladies, kissing the hands of the matrons and bowing to their husbands, that he was able to relax a little. And even then it was not for long.

The orchestra struck up a country dance and he was induced to join a set with Miss Jane Trent. And after that it was another dance and another young lady and then another and he was just about to make his way over to Miss Cartwright when he became aware of Miss Brandon standing only a few feet away and looking at him, half-shy, half-expectantly. He bowed. ‘Miss Brandon, will you do me the honour of joining this country dance with me?’

She smiled and curtsied and he raised her to her feet and led her into the dance. But his thoughts were on the other side of the room where Charlotte stood beside Lady Brandon.

‘They make a comely pair, do they not?’

‘Who?’

‘Why, Martha and the Earl, of course. He is bound to look favourably on her, considering I have been at such pains to make him welcome.’

Charlotte watched the two dancers. The Earl was smiling down at Martha and had obviously paid her a compliment, for she was smiling back at him, eyes shining. It gave Charlotte an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach that she could not explain. ‘You think he will offer for her?’

‘I do not see why not. We will bring him round to it. She will make a splendid Countess.’

‘Yes, but Amerleigh Hall is in a ruinous state.’

‘Martha has an inheritance from my aunt and she has never had to spend a penny of it, I am thankful to say. It has been growing with interest ever since the old lady died five years ago. Sir Gordon will ensure his lordship is aware of it.’

‘Do you think he would marry for money?’

‘It must be a consideration. If his pockets are to let, it must mean his title is up for sale.’

Her words thrust Charlotte back six years to a time when the late Earl was ready to sell the title and Roland had refused absolutely to consider her. It stiffened her resolve; she would make him pay for that humiliation in whatever way came to hand.

‘I think he will make an excellent husband,’ her ladyship continued, unaware that Charlotte was no longer giving her full attention. ‘I have been hearing fine reports of him.’

‘From his servant, no doubt.’

‘From everyone. Why are you so against him?’

‘I am not against him. I have no interest in his affairs. I was thinking of Martin Elliott. I am sure he has hopes of Martha.’

‘Pooh, what is he? Nothing but a parson’s son and he hasn’t even found a living yet.’

Charlotte felt sorry for the poor man, but she refrained from saying so, because the dance had ended and the Earl was escorting Martha to them, smiling and speaking to her in what, to the highly sensitised mamas, was a most intimate fashion. The roomful of people watched their progress and sighed, many with disappointment.

He thanked Martha with an elegant leg, surreptitiously looking sideways at Charlotte as he did so, but she would not look at him, being engrossed in examining her fan.

‘My lord,’ Lady Brandon said. ‘It is gratifying to see you mingle with us all so amiably. We are glad to have you among us again.’

‘That is very kind of you, my lady.’ There was a pause which to Charlotte, still studying the picture of a shepherdess and her swain on her fan, seemed interminable, before he added, ‘Miss Cartwright, may I have the pleasure of the next dance?’

She looked up at him, fluttering her fan, as if she had only just discovered what the accessory was meant for.

‘Come.’ He was holding out his hand.

She stood up and put her hand into his and allowed him to draw her onto the floor for a waltz.

Waltzing had been in favour for two or three years in the capital, but had only recently been considered a suitable dance for the country. Lady Brandon was being greatly daring in asking the musicians to play for one, but she was determined that no one should think her behind the times and it might give the company some indication of whom his lordship might favour. And he had picked out Charlotte Cartwright! She was beginning to wish she had not tried so hard to induce Charlotte to come.

The warmth of his hand on her back through the thin silk of her gown seemed to spread right through Charlotte until she was quite breathless. For a big man, he was surprisingly light on his feet and she found herself wondering where he had learned to dance in that expert way, for he guided her unerringly. And for the first time in her life, she did not regret those dancing lessons. She chose not to notice that Lady Gilford and many of the other matrons were murmuring among themselves, nor the dagger looks of the young ladies who had hoped to catch his eye; she was immune to everything but the enjoyment of the dance, of doing something she had not done for years. Six years, in fact—the last time she had danced with him. She wondered if he remembered it.

The music came to an end with a triumphant flourish and Charlotte dropped into a deep curtsy. He bowed and took her hand to raise her up and then offered his arm to escort her back to her place and they found themselves the target of all eyes as they made their way slowly down the length of the room. She felt she had to make an effort at conversation, something safe, something not contentious.

‘Have you made any progress about a teacher for Tommy?’ she asked.

‘I have made one or two enquiries, but so far nothing definite. With the war coming to an end, the medical officer I spoke of might be coming home and I might wait to see what he has to say.’

‘If he is used to working with soldiers, he may not wish to teach a child.’

‘Then he will not be the man we want and we must find someone else.’

‘We, my lord?’

‘You and I, young Tommy and his parents.’

‘You include me?’

‘Of course. You are very necessary to the success of the project.’

She laughed. ‘Could it be that the help you need from me is monetary?’

‘Not at all,’ he said huffily. ‘I am sorry I mentioned it. I might have known you would reduce everything to pounds, shillings and pence.’

‘Pounds, shillings and pence are very useful things to have, my lord.’

‘Is that all you can think of? Do you have no heart?’

‘What has my heart to do with anything? It is a beating organ, necessary to life, just as yours is.’ That little imp was on her shoulder again, making her say outrageous things, egging her on to produce a reaction out of him.

‘True, but sometimes it can beat a little faster, someone says something or does something that sets it pounding. Have you never had that happen to you, Miss Cartwright?’ He paused to look down at her and she felt the colour flare into her face and, what was more, her heart was beating nineteen to the dozen. She was sure he could hear it.

‘That is neither here nor there. We were talking of Tommy and how he could be helped.’

‘By all means, let us talk of Tommy.’

‘I doubt a trained teacher would consider teaching one child a full-time task.’

‘Perhaps not. But it set me wondering how many other deaf children there are in the neighbourhood.’

‘I have no idea. Several I should think. You surely do not intend to teach them all. You would need premises and equipment and specialist teachers. It could not be done on half a crown.’