“I’m sorry, Guthrie. I realize the situation has worsened.”
“Devil take it, Blayne. If you were anyone else I’d toss you out on your arse and let the both of you suffer the consequence of your idiocy.”
“Except ye can’t. Can ye?”
Guthrie blew out a frustrated breath and grabbed his brandy. He took a long sip and set the glass aside. “Unfortunately, my conscience will not permit it. And you probably deserve a thousand curses for counting on that.”
Blayne couldn’t deny it. He knew Guthrie would always feel indebted to him. It was something he could have taken advantage of repeatedly during the time they’d known each other, but he hadn’t. Not until now. “I’m sorry.”
“Christ. I know what it’s like to be smitten. I just don’t want to see you give up on everything you’ve worked so hard to achieve, that’s all.”
“Thank ye, but after all this time, getting recognized is unlikely.”
“But not impossible,” Guthrie warned.
The sound advice stayed with Blayne long after he returned home that evening.
7
Ten days later, the case of the missing novel was still unresolved. No one, not even Mr. MacNeil, had been able to figure out who the thief was or where he’d gone.
For all Charlotte knew, her manuscript could be in Scotland by now.
Choosing not to think about that at the moment, she glanced around the crowded room where London’s elite mixed and mingled beneath the glow of two gilded chandeliers.
“You look especially lovely this evening,” Mr. Cooper said. “Quite exquisite.”
He handed her a glass of lemonade intended to offer refreshment after the reel they’d just danced together. Thanking him, Charlotte sipped the cool drink with quiet relief while allowing her gaze to wander the room. It was an age since she’d last attended a ball and while she hadn’t missed doing so, she couldn’t help but admire the splendor of this particular one. The Duke and Duchess of Coventry’s spacious mansion lent itself perfectly to large gatherings with plenty of space to allow for proper air circulation.
Every member of Society must have been invited. There were hundreds of people, all dressed in their finest evening attire. Ladies garbed in shimmering silks and adorned with glittering jewels sparkled beneath the two luminous chandeliers while the gentlemen cast more elegant silhouettes in their simple evening black.
“You don’t think it’s too much?” Charlotte asked Mr. Cooper.
“Of course not.”
When he said nothing else Charlotte tried to locate two of her cousins among the crowd. Rose and Violet had assured her they would join her as soon as they’d finished greeting some of their friends. Their presence would surely help with the strained atmosphere Charlotte felt when she was alone with Mr. Cooper – this constant effort to think of something to say and never being satisfied with whatever came out of her mouth. She rose up onto her tiptoes, hoping to get a better look, but the effort made no difference. She was so short she couldn’t even hope to spot a tall Scotsman with dark brown hair if he should appear.
“Maybe we can go for a walk on the patio,” Mr. Cooper suggested.
Charlotte tried not to roll her eyes or sigh with obvious exasperation. Since meeting him for the first time three weeks earlier, she’d been alone with him – or as alone as an unmarried woman could be with a gentleman – a total of seven times. Twice her parents had managed to get her to go on a carriage ride with him in Hyde Park and on five occasions she’d entertained him for tea. On neither of those instances did she or Mr. Cooper have much to say to one another. Not after he’d made his displeasure of her reading preference clear.
“I’d rather stay here.” At least then she could busy herself with watching other people.
“You’re searching for him, aren’t you?”
She hadn’t been. She’d been looking for her cousins.
Liar.
“I’ve no idea to whom you might be referring.”
Mr. Cooper chuckled. “Really, Miss Russell. I’m not blind or stupid you know. Look, it’s obvious you’d rather talk to Mr. Wright, but the fact of the matter is he’s not here. I am. And if you’d just give me a chance to prove myself, you’d realize I’m not as awful as you might like to think.”
Horrified by her transparency, Charlotte swung round to face him only to be caught off guard by the spark of humor in his eyes when what she’d expected was disapproval. “I’m so sorry. It is just…”
The edge of his mouth curved. “I understand.” He glanced askance for a second. “Or at least I think I do. Your parents arranged for me to come here without discussing the matter with you, and in the meantime, you met someone else – an option who makes your heart soar. And now you feel trapped between obligation and desire.”
“Mr. Cooper. You should not—”
“Say such things?” He grinned. “If there’s one thing I’ll never understand about you Brits, it’s your inclination to keep the truth neatly tucked away behind all that pretense. Isn’t honesty better?”
She stared at him for a long moment. “Do you know, I think that’s the first compelling thing you’ve ever asked me.”
“You see? I’m not so bad after all.”
Charlotte supposed he might have a point. Perhaps she had been biased against him right from the start and hadn’t allowed him the chance he deserved.
No. That wasn’t quite it.
The truth was, he didn’t fill her breast with eager fluttering or draw her into conversations that stirred her mind. Whenever she’d tried to steer their conversation toward a subject of her own interest, he’d invariably directed them back to steel. The man didn’t seem to consist of anything else. He’d married his work.
“Mr. Cooper,” Charlotte said. “Since we are being honest with one another, I must inform you that I have no intention of wedding anyone.”
His eyes narrowed ever so briefly, just enough to convey his frustration. But then he smiled and offered his arm. “Come, Miss Russell. Some fresh air will do us both good. And besides, there’s a matter I’d like to discuss with you in private.”
He watched her with the same degree of focus she imagined him giving a business contract. And then his gaze dropped, ever so fleetingly to her breasts, and whatever appreciation she’d felt in response to the levity he’d displayed a moment ago was swept away by aversion. Mr. Cooper could be pleasant, jovial even, but the idea of letting him touch her in all those places a husband would have every right to made her recoil.
“I really don’t think—”
“Miss Russell.” A smooth voice near her left shoulder rumbled through her in low tones.
Charlotte sucked in a breath and turned. Every tightly strung nerve within her relaxed while a rush of heat bathed her skin. “Mr. Wright.”
He bowed, his warm gaze snaring hers until it was almost as though they’d been swept away to some private corner where only the two of them existed. Her heart beat with frantic anticipation as he raised her hand to his lips for a kiss. His mouth pressed down over the back of her white satin glove, completely destroying the one inch distance etiquette deemed appropriate. Charlotte’s stomach became a jumbled chaos that nearly erupted into a blaze of fire the moment she felt his teeth scrape against her.