She had pulled the hood of her cloak up over her head, masking her from the view of any passersby once again.
Gerard stared after her, openmouthed and leaning on the doorframe. A hundred questions or more were rushing through his head like galloping racehorses. He could see the two of them again so easily close together, in his drawing room as they danced, or even seconds ago against that door, with his hand on her cheek as he wiped that tear.
“What I’d give to have ye back already, lass,” he murmured softly, stunned at the control she seemed to have over him.
There was one question though that stuck out more than any other, for he had no idea at all about how to answer it.
Why did ye cry, Charlotte? What did I do wrong this time?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“There, get that down you. It might help.”
Gerard happily snatched up the tankard of ale that Jeffrey had brought for him and gulped from it. Jeffrey chuckled as he sat down on the low-lying bench on the other side of the inn table.
Surrounded by candles and other men who had come for a drink at the end of their days, Gerard felt secreted away in their dark corner. The innkeeper had grown so used to seeing the pair of them there by now, as had some of the other drinkers, that their fine clothes no longer drew unwanted attention. Instead, men waved at them on occasion, quite fascinated by the viscount and duke who wanted to come and drink in this poor tavern.
“It looks like you’ll need another in a minute,” Jeffrey said as he watched Gerard drink half of the tankard and put it down on the table again. “Should I ask about the cause of your deflated mood? Or shall I hazard a guess instead?”
“Daenae guess at it.” Gerard glowered at Jeffrey, having a feeling that his friend knew all too well what was behind his mood. Jeffrey just continued to smile though, despite the glower.
Charlotte and Jeffrey are the only ones who are nae afraid of my dark looks.
“Then shall we talk of something else instead?” Jeffrey laughed. “Shall we talk instead about the assembly the other night? There wasn’t a person there who was not talking about you and Lady Charlotte by the end of it.”
“Really?” Gerard cursed under his breath. He knew that Charlotte had been worried about whispers as they had danced together twice, but he had believed she was overreacting. “Charlotte kens a lot about the way thetonthinks. She said they would talk if we danced together again.”
“I think it had more to do with the way you crossed out Mr. Withers’ name on the dance card. He was very happy indeed to repeat that tale to anyone who would hear it.”
“Bloody man,” Gerard cursed once again. Jeffrey didn’t mind the strong language, but just continued to smile.
“Have no fear. They talked of it for one night but that’s hardly eventful enough for them to keep talking about it. Wait until the next assembly or ball, and they’ll find someone else to talk about. That’s unless you and Charlotte would like to make another exhibition of yourselves?”
“We dinnae make an exhibition. Did we?” Gerard added uncertainly. Jeffrey winced a little. “God’s blood. If even ye think it was an exhibition…” He broke off and ran a hand across his face, stressed at the thought.
“People will forget, as I said. Don’t worry about that. I think what we cannot ignore so easily is the jealousy you felt when she danced with Mr. Withers.”
“I wasnae jealous.”
“Sure, you weren’t. Did you see the pigs jumping over the moon tonight?”
“What?”
“I thought we were both declaring untruths.” Jeffrey smiled. “Gerard, my friend, maybe you do not want to accept it, but your jealousy was plain enough to read. You might as well have walked over to Charlotte and written your name in ink across her forehead.”
“I wasnae that bad.”
“You were.” Jeffrey still smiled, clearly finding the situation amusing rather than worrying at all.
“Stop smilin’. Ye’re unnerving me.” Gerard downed the rest of his ale.
“I’m smiling because I do not understand the problem, Gerard.” Jeffrey sat back and held his hands out wide. “You are fond of her, plainly, as she is fond of you.”
Gerard choked on the last swallow of his ale. He wiped the dribbles from his chin as he set the tankard down again and stared at his friend.
“Ye daenae ken that.”
“Oh, come off it. She plainly does like you, too. Did you not see the way she looked at you when you were dancing together?”
