“Is it?” Margaret’s voice had darkened, and she did not take her eyes off Charlotte as she spoke.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Gerard stood looking out of the window with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Behind him on the desk were all the particulars relating to his travels back to Scotland and the much-needed trip to sort out his work. He hadn’t sorted out a date for coming back, or even if he would be coming back at all, but the thought of looking at those papers right now was impossible.
He wished with all his might to ignore that they existed.
Across the street, there was movement. A figure in a dark cloak was moving toward his townhouse. Her gloved hands pulled at the cloak across her head, keeping her face firmly hidden. She did not draw attention to herself from others in the street. It was so busy and as it rained hard, people were much more focused on covering themselves up from the rain and getting to their destinations. She slipped easily between the crowds and paused in front of the house, looking up just enough for Gerard to get a glimpse of her face.
There ye are, lass.
Charlotte’s eyes darted over the building. She had not noticed him watching her from the study window, which gave him a minute to admire her freely. She chewed her lip, looking nervously at the house.
“What are ye afraid of?” Gerard whispered into the air. She was plainly in no hurry to call on him, and judging by the way she was fidgeting with the edge of her cloak, she was debating whether to come in at all.
It reminded him of the expression on her face the night before when she had spoken of him going back to Scotland. She had plainly been hurt and upset by this news.
Why? Why was she upset? Perhaps she fears she doesnae yet have enough money from me to make a good dowry? Or… will she miss me?
His stomach clenched tight. No, surely, she would not miss him. She despaired of him too much. Had she not made that plain the night before?
She walked toward the house, still keeping the cloak up over her face.
Gerard left the window and crossed the study, moving out into the hallway of the house. He answered the door himself, before the butler could appear from within the depths of the house.
She stepped forward, hesitantly, still chewing her lip, until she saw that it was him answering the door.
“Good afternoon,” she murmured, bobbing a curtsy.
“Very formal,” he said churlishly, shutting the door behind her.
“I think it’s best if we are, don’t you?” She removed her cloak. He went to help her, his fingers brushing her shoulders as he did so. He could have sworn she gasped, and he wondered if, like him, she was affected by their brief touches, but she kept her face firmly averted.
I must be wrong.
He looped the cloak over the nearest coat stand and gestured for her to go into the drawing room. She led the way, turning to face him when she reached the middle of the room. Behind her, a fire had been lit, casting her in a warm orange light.
“Are you ready for our next lesson?” she asked, very matter-of-factly with her hands clasped together.
“I am.” He matched her stance and folded his arms.
“I was thinking of teaching you again about how a gentleman should treat a lady at an assembly.”
He raised his eyebrows. It seemed to have the desired effect, for she fidgeted on the spot.
“You need teaching again –”
“I ken well enough how to treat a lady.”
“You do?” She laughed, but it was without any real mirth. “Then explain why you demanded a dance from me last night.”
“Ye dinnae object at the time.”
“I could not object. I was backed into a corner. Either I caused a scene, or I went along with it. That’s what it means to behave with propriety in theton. You go along with it.”
“Maybe ye do.” He nodded at her.
“This is hopeless.” She shook her head and stepped forward, clearly about to move around him. “Maybe we should just end our lessons now and you can do as you like.”
