Helen Dickson - An Innocent Proposal

“Not quite, Sir Charles,” she said, looking to where James and Timothy stood. They were so heavily engrossed in conversation that, as yet, they were not aware that Sir Charles had approached her.

Sir Charles followed her gaze and scowled, but he quickly ignored them and fixed his gaze on Louisa’s face once more, his countenance restored to good humour. “You look ravishing. Damn me if I can remember when I last saw a prettier face than yours.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can if you try,” Louisa said, her wonderful amber eyes filled with wry amusement, noting that his voice lacked sincerity, and that he spoke with well-regulated practice.

“It is the kind of face that is capable of driving a man to distraction. Ever since I saw you last night, I confess I’ve been thinking about you—a great deal, in fact—and now here you are.”

“I’m sure you’ll soon get over it.” There was no doubt about it, she thought with cynicism, not deceived or beguiled by his easy chatter. He was dazzling, with a lying, flattering tongue in his head.

He raised one languid eyebrow. “You’re having a pleasant stroll, I hope?”

“Yes, thank you. Very pleasant.”

He glanced towards James. “Fraser looks down in the mouth, I see, although the poor chap has a right to be after his rotten luck last night. He lost heavily to Lord Dunstan, I believe.” His gaze settled on her once more, his face lustful, with a certain excitement in his eyes and an air of lecherous anticipation emanating from them. “If it prevents him entertaining you in the manner to which you are accustomed, might I offer my services—? When you can escape his watchful eye, of course. Nothing would please me more.”

“Thank you. I’m flattered. But that won’t be necessary, Sir Charles,” she said, more reluctant than ever to divulge that James was her brother and not her lover, beginning to think the subterfuge accorded her some protection against men like Sir Charles Meredith. “I have not yet grown so tired of him that I would willingly leave him for another. You do understand, I hope?”

“Then he is fortunate. Such devotion is a rarity indeed in our society. But he neglects you, I see. Any man who can neglect such a beautiful creature is a fool.”

“Most men are fools, are they not, Sir Charles?” Louisa countered.

Sir Charles’s eyes focused narrowly on hers. “Ah! You have wit too, I see. I would steal you myself if you were not already spoken for,” he said softly, with a sly smile and a lowering of one heavy eyelid that constituted a wink. “So take care that you do not drive me to distraction, otherwise you will learn how far my desires can carry me—Mr Fraser or no.”

Louisa gave a delicate lift to her brows. “Are you always so persistent, Sir Charles?”

“Always,” he said as he began to accompany her back to where James and Timothy were still deep in conversation. “You think I’m insufferable, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she admitted, unable to prevent a little smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Quite.”

He was not at all disturbed or offended by her honest reply. “Well, I can be quite a charming and delightful chap when you get to know me. I have an appalling reputation, I know, but I would ask you not to listen to gossip, Miss Divine. You shouldn’t believe everything. I’m not ignorant of what’s said about me, and I’m afraid I have been dreadfully maligned.”

She laughed lightly. “Then I’m sorry to put a dampener on your ego, Sir Charles, but until last night, when we met in the doorway at Bricknell House, I had never heard of you before in my life.”

He sighed regretfully. “That’s what comes of spending too much time in the country. It stultifies one’s mind and leads to boredom.”

“Possibly. But you can set your mind at rest,” she said, looking up at him sideways, meaningfully. “I have never been one to listen to gossip—only facts.”

Neither of them saw a group of four people coming towards them: a man, two women, and a young boy. Having just replied to something amusing Sir Charles had said, which had brought a smile to her lips and a sparkle to her eyes, Louisa suddenly noticed their approach, and her smile froze as her gaze became fixed on them.

One of the women, whom she thought to be in her mid-thirties, was handsome and quite tall, her gloved hand placed lightly on the gentleman’s arm. The other woman Louisa saw was much younger, still a girl, in fact, perhaps sixteen or seventeen years old. Her hair was dark and arranged in ringlets which bounced delightfully when she moved her head, and she was extremely pretty, with a vivacity and freshness to her manner. The young boy, who she surmised must be the older woman’s son, sported a shock of dark brown curls and was happily skipping along beside them. But it was the gentleman who caught Louisa’s eyes and held them, for it was Lord Dunstan.

Both parties stopped abruptly, leaving several paces between them, Lord Dunstan’s gaze barely resting on Louisa before sliding to her companion, his eyes so cold she thought they could annihilate a man.

Louisa noticed how the older woman paled and drew in her breath quickly, her hand rising to her throat as her eyes were drawn towards Sir Charles, as if seeing a ghost. Lord Dunstan’s features froze, and taking the woman’s arm, after throwing Louisa a glance which was like a poison dart, he abruptly stepped off the path and began walking away, calling sharply to the boy and the young lady to follow, but not before Louisa had seen his eyes darken with anger and contempt.

She watched them go, noticing how the young woman paused and looked at Sir Charles with surprise, staring at him openly and with all the innocence of her tender years, clearly dazzled for the first time in her life by a supremely handsome man, allowing the corners of her inviting mouth to twitch slightly, and looking curiously exposed as she caught her breath and flushed a bright pink. Her eyes were as big as saucers and held far too much eloquence as she gazed at him wondrously, until she responded to Lord Dunstan’s sharp order and reluctantly tore her eyes from his.

She had looked so startled that Louisa was convinced she could not have uttered a word if her life had depended on it. Casting a sideways glance at Sir Charles, she saw his full pink mouth turn up in one corner in a grin, and beneath his heavy, drooping lids his eyes were filled with amusement and idle speculation as he watched her hurry away.

Filled with confusion by Lord Dunstan’s show of rudeness, Louisa was puzzled by his behaviour and that of the older woman, but recalling the intense dislike Lord Dunstan so clearly felt for Sir Charles, which he had made evident on both occasions she had met him, she thought he must have good reason to cut him in public so deliberately. However, she thought, with some regret, considering what she had in mind where Lord Dunstan was concerned, it was unfortunate that he had seen her with Sir Charles Meredith; no doubt it would not help her cause and he would draw his own conclusions and be reluctant to have anything to do with her, despite what he had said to her at Mr Brewster’s bookshop.

In an attempt to dispel the coldness that the brief encounter with Lord Dunstan had caused her, Louisa smiled up at Sir Charles, beginning to walk on. He fell into step beside her.

“I saw the way the young lady looked at you, Sir Charles, which you must have observed for yourself. It would seem you have an admirer, and I suspect it amuses you to have a flirtatious exchange with such an innocent young girl.” She spoke lightly, an innocent herself, unprepared for Sir Charles’s reply, which her untutored mind regarded as obscene.

“I agree she is extremely pretty—and ripe for more than a mere glance. The crux of the matter is, though, that she is Dunstan’s sister, and, as you will have observed for yourself, he and I are not the best of friends. However, it is such a waste to keep that appealing little virgin tucked away at his home in Sussex.”