One Week To Wed. Laurie Benson
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being married to him.’ Ann took a sip of tea and stared off into the distance, as if she were considering what it must have been like to be married to such an old man.
‘Lizzy has assured me she will just be attending the theatre and going to dinner parties. She certainly will not be marrying until a year has passed.’
The last statement was said more to appease Ann than because Charlotte actually believed it. If the Duke of Winterbourne’s brother asked for her hand the day she arrived back in London, she was certain Lizzy would accept, regardless of how close it was to Skeffington’s death. If they did get married, Charlotte would finally learn what the man’s name was. It was just like Lizzy to identify the man by the most prestigious thing about him and not by his name.
‘Everyone always said you three Sommersby sisters were all so different from one another.’
Charlotte shrugged. ‘Lizzy is eager to move forward with her life.’
‘She isn’t the only one who should move forward with her life.’ Ann arched her brow and a teasing smile played on her lips. ‘Do not roll your eyes. I am simply stating it is time for you to put the past behind you and look towards your future, as well. You are a beautiful, caring woman. Any man would be fortunate to have you as his wife.’ She took Charlotte’s hand in hers. ‘We all know you loved Jonathan. It’s a tragedy he never made it back from the war, but you have many years ahead of you to find love again.’
Why was it still necessary to defend her love for Jonathan to the people who professed to care about her? No one fell in love twice in a lifetime. ‘That part of my life is over. I am fortunate I do not need to marry again. I do not need excess extravagances like my sister does. I have simpler tastes.’
‘I wasn’t speaking of your financial situation and you know that. Although, if you were to find a wealthy man, it would not be a hardship.’ Ann gave a low chuckle.
They had discussed this before. Nothing would change. ‘How long will Toby’s friend be visiting? I wish to know how many days of excuses I will need to prepare myself with, should you need more company for dinner.’
Amusement sparkled in Ann’s blue eyes. ‘He will be staying with us for a fortnight. You certainly cannot find excuses for all of those days.’
‘I pray I will be fortunate and the gentlemen will discover they’d much rather dine at home each night and you will not be in need of companionship.’
‘I still could invite you to dine with us.’
‘And I can then freely decline, knowing you are not sitting all alone with a leg of mutton.’
‘It has been rather nice seeing Toby’s joy in being with his old friend.’
‘Have I met the gentleman before?’
Ann shook her head. ‘No. The last time Toby saw him was about six years ago. His name is Lord Andrew Pearce. They attended Cambridge together.’ Her eyes widened and she leaned forward. ‘I looked for him in Debrett’s.’
‘Please, I beg you, do not tell me of his lineage. I’ve spent the last four months with Lizzy. I’m convinced she has memorised the contents of that book and freely refers to the people she associates with solely by their most prestigious familial connection. I’ve had enough of titles to last a lifetime.’
Ann settled back in her chair with a laugh. ‘Very well. I’m sure you have.’
‘Where does Toby’s friend live? Six years is a long time not to see one another.’
‘London. Toby has visited him there on a few occasions, however Lord Andrew hasn’t had an opportunity to travel this way. I met him for the first time when he arrived this morning. They spent most of the afternoon shooting and this evening they went into the village for dinner. Toby was so eager to spend time with him, I didn’t have the heart to tell him they were being rude by leaving me home to dine by myself.’
‘What is your impression of Lord Andrew so far?’
‘I confess he is not what I expected. I assumed him to be a rather scholarly type. One who had his nose in books the way Toby does.’
‘And?’
‘And, he appears to be the type of man one finds in the village on race days or, I imagine, in a boxing ring at the local fair.’
Just as Charlotte was about to reply, the sound of Toby’s voice drifted in through the open doorway, followed by a deep rumbling sound that must have been the muffled reply of his friend. Intrigued by the image Ann had painted of Lord Andrew, Charlotte stared at the open doorway to catch a glimpse of him.
Toby came into view first and smiled when he spotted them. He looked neat and tidy with his blond hair cut very short and his narrow frame encased in brown breeches and a cinnamon-coloured wool coat. Then she caught sight of his friend—and her breath caught in her throat. She actually felt it!
He was an imposing-looking man—at least five inches taller than Toby’s average height. The cut of his blue coat showed off an impressive pair of broad shoulders and the definition of well-shaped arms. His light brown wavy hair grazed his collar and was a bit longer than was considered respectable, but it suited him and appeared neatly trimmed. His square jaw and the angles to his face would make it very easy to render his image in stone. The flicker of candlelight bounced off the gold buttons on his coat, drawing her attention back to his frame and her gaze dropped to his muscular thighs which were visible through his black breeches, tucked into a pair of topped boots. This was a man who enjoyed sport or rode extensively.
It wasn’t until Ann tapped the side of her slipper with her foot that Charlotte realised she must have been staring at him.
‘Charlotte,’ Toby called out. ‘How good to see you.’ It appeared the men were heading to another area of the house but her friend, always the perfect gentleman, walked into the room to greet her.
It was taking considerable effort on Charlotte’s part to keep her eyes fixed on Toby, which was absurd. The man next to him should not have captured her attention in such a way, but he possessed such an ease of movement, like one who was comfortable in his skin, that it was impossible not to sneak one last glance at him.
Toby gave her a friendly smile. ‘I’m so glad you were able to join Ann tonight.’
‘It was lovely to receive her note.’
‘May I introduce my friend?’ he asked, gesturing to the man beside him. ‘Lady Charlotte Gregory, may I present Lord Andrew Pearce. Lord Andrew this is Lady Charlotte, a childhood friend of Ann’s. Lord Andrew and I are old college chums from Cambridge.’
Lord Andrew took a step forward and gave a respectful bow. Candlelight played through his silky hair. ‘A pleasure to make your acquaintance, madam.’
The deep pitch of his voice rumbled through her body. There was no warmth in his eyes or expression, just a keen watchfulness, as if he was studying her, before he turned to Ann and offered another respectful bow.
‘I did not expect the two of you home this early,’ Ann said, looking pleased with the unexpected encounter. ‘I imagine, Lord Andrew, there is little to entertain a man late at night in this part of the country. It must be rather dull, compared to what you’re accustomed to.’ She turned to Charlotte. ‘Lord Andrew is from London,’ she informed her yet again before turning back to him. ‘Lady Charlotte has a sister who lives in London.’ There was a helpfulness to her tone and her eyebrows rose as if she fully expected his attention to shift to Charlotte.
Dear God, was Ann trying to find her a husband? Is that why she had invited her here?
His eyes skirted briefly to Charlotte before he addressed Ann’s question. ‘While I am partial to London, you do have some well-run establishments here that serve fine food and good ale. That is all a man truly needs.’
Thank heavens, he did not feel obliged to follow Ann’s direction and converse with her. If Charlotte could think