Page 35 of A Perfect Engagement
“Lord Hawksridge, I never did get a chance to apologize for my part in the boating debacle,” Lady Susanna said.
“Don’t bother, it’s fine. Accidents happen,” he replied politely. They exchanged partners, and he twirled another lady back to her husband. Picking Lady Susanna back up, they stepped together down the center of the line.
“I just wanted to say I am pleased to see you will make an attentive husband.”
“Will I?” He’d never thought about what kind of husband he would make. Although he never thought much about being a father either until Josie. “How can you tell?” he asked.
“Whenever she is in the room, your full attention is on Charlotte. Anyone with eyes can see you care about her.” They hit the end of the row and split apart to stand opposite each other.
Over his partner’s shoulder, he could see Charlotte. She sat with her fan open, her wrist flicking back and forth. Her friend’s offhand comment rang true. When the lady was in the room, he could see only her. How could a woman he had only known for four days entrance him so? He shook himself free from his thoughts in time to place his hand against Lady Susanna’s for the final turn of the dance. The music ended, and they both clapped politely.
“You are a good dancer, Lord Hawksridge. I guess it is because of your talent on the pianoforte. You must have a natural ear for the music.”
“Thank you for the dance, Lady Susanna. You dance beautifully.”
“I wouldn’t say that, but I dance enthusiastically at any rate. Come on, let’s get back to Charlotte. I can see where your eyes are trained.”
Charlotte sat fanning herself. She appeared to still be out of breath. As she stood to greet them, she swayed on her feet. Her friend grasped her arm to steady her.
“Are you feeling all right, Charlotte?”
Charlotte waved a hand in the air dismissively. “Yes, I’m fine.”
But Daniel had a pretty good idea of what the problem was. Earlier, he’d felt the stiff boning of her corset when he had his hand on her back. Most likely, it was the culprit that constricted her breathing.
He took Charlotte’s arm. “Let’s get some fresh air.”
Once they were alone outside on the veranda, Charlotte walked to the ironwork balustrade to stare out into the inky shadows of the gardens. He had no idea how to bring up the topic of her corset, or whether he should at all. He leaned a hip against the railing and waited for her to catch her breath. Whatever undergarment she had herself strapped into pushed her breasts up high and full. They strained against the neckline of her dress. Their rise and fall mesmerized him.
Miss Spencer emerged through a pair of French doors. “Charlotte, are you ill? Susanna told me you were feeling unwell.” She shot an accusing look his way, as though he was the reason Charlotte felt unwell.
Charlotte turned to her friend. “I’m fine,” she repeated. “Hawksridge was kind enough to escort me outside for some fresh air.”
Miss Spencer’s expression warmed a degree, perhaps two. Really, what had he ever done to her?
“It is rather hot in there with everyone dancing. But it has been fun to participate. My father is safely tucked away in the study having a brandy with your father.” Miss Spencer winked and actually grinned.
Would wonders never cease?
“Eleanor loves to dance, but her father doesn’t approve,” Charlotte explained. She walked to her friend, offering a hand with a low bow. Miss Spencer accepted it with a curtsy, and the two of them began to dance, twirling around in a graceful four-step waltz to nonexistent music. Daniel laughed. He had the feeling this was a game they had played often. He imagined two young girls practicing dance steps with each other. His opinion of Charlotte’s friend rose.
“Hullo, ladies! Fancy a real dance partner?” Lucius stumbled up the steps from the darkness. He attempted a pirouette but lost his balance halfway around and stumbled again. This time he fell into a table and chairs with a resounding crash. The bottle of liquor he held smashed to the stone floor.
“Lucius,” Charlotte cried out.
Daniel jumped forward to help him. But Lucius rebounded to his feet. “I’m fiineee.” He sang out. “Shame about the whiskey. I’ll just go inside and get another.” He headed toward the drawing room doors.
Charlotte stepped in front of her brother. “Oh no, you don’t. Lucius, you’re sloshed.”
Lucius draped an arm around her shoulders heavily. “Yes, yes, I am,” he whispered loudly. Charlotte buckled under his weight, and she winced in pain, her hand pressed to her solar plexus.
“That’s enough, Lucius,” Daniel commanded. “Get off her, you fool.” He hauled Lucius up and off of his sister with more force than strictly necessary. The stupid idiot. “Come on. I’ll take you up to your room. You can have more whiskey sent up if you like.”
“Capital idea!” Lucius thumped him on the back.
Charlotte still stood with her hand pressed to her middle. Her eyes darted to the doors to the drawing room. She looked stricken. Daniel wanted to go to her and soothe the wrinkle between her eyebrows, but her fool of a brother needed to get off to bed.
Miss Spencer stepped up to Lucius. “I’ll take him around to the kitchen door. Come on, Lucius. Maybe Mrs. Brewster will take pity and make you some coffee.” She gave Lucius’s arm a tug.
