Page 64 of The Deceptive Earl

“I think both are important,” Charity said.

“And so you have found this paragon, have you? At Lady Amelia’s tea.”

Charity blushed, thinking she never even made it to the tea. “I have found him,” she said. “But you have to let him court me,” she said.

“If he is who you wish, Charity I will consider him. Who is the gentleman?” Lady Shalace sat on the settee and looked up a Charity awaiting her response.

“Lord Wentwell,” Charity said.

“The rake? Oh Charity.”

“No Mother. NO. He is not a rake. TheTonhas branded him so, but it is not true. Surely you see how wrong theToncan be. Surely you know this. They wronged you all those years, Mother. I know it. I know that you love Father. No one thinks it is so, but I see the truth of it, just as I see the truth of Lord Wentwell. Let him present himself. Please Mother. Give him a chance to prove himself worthy of my love.”

“You love this man?” Lady Shalace said, shaking her head.

“I do.”

Her mother pursed her lips, and Charity wasn’t sure which way the conversation would go, but she knew how to swing it to her favor. “I have a confession to make,” Charity said.

Lady Shalace looked at her, a frown of worry crossing her usually smooth brow.

“It is about the concert. When Father had his episode…” She sat beside her mother then, and took her mother’s hand in her own. Charity took a deep breath and relayed the entirety of the incident, including Lord Wentwell’s part of it. When she was finished, her mother had a better opinion of Lord Wentwell. Charity did not tell her of the incident with Lord Wentwell’s brother. That was not her story to tell.

~.~

Chapter Twenty-Six

The following morning, Lord Wentwell arrived at Lady Charity’s home at the earliest possible calling hour, and as promised, she had breakfast set. He decided that, he was not going to let the young lady out of his sight until she was safely his. He could not ask her to marry him so soon, but he escorted her to every event for the next week. Whispers followed him, as whispers always followed members of theTon. Of course the first of those rumors was how he got his blackened eye. The most prevalent idea was that he had engaged in fisticuffs over a young lady. Of course, since Lady Charity Abernathy was the only young lady he had escorted in the past six days, rumor held that she was the lady in question.

“I do wish I had been left out of your rumors,” Lady Charity said without venom. “But I suppose you cannot help it. Rumor sticks to you like flies to …sugar,” she said sweetly. With that, she informed him that she had let slip to a gentleman dance partner that Lord Wentwell had not engaged in fisticuffs at all. He had simply run into a tree branch and was too embarrassed to tell the tale of how he got his black eye.

“Surely you did not,” he said. He was just a tad annoyed at the thought, and then he smiled. “They will believe anything, will they not?”

“I think they will,” she said and suddenly, it became a game to see who could make the most outrageous claims.

“I heard it was a carriage door,” he told her later in the night as they shared a waltz. “I apparently am quite clumsy.”

She giggled and told him that she had heard he had been attacked by a highwayman, fell down some stairs and was kicked by a horse.

“A horse? Surely not.” He frowned. “You do not think it had anything to do with the previous rumor about my stablemaster do you?”

Charity shook her head. “You did manage to put that rumor to rest, I think.” At Charity’s urging, he had given Miss Danbury and his stable master three good mares, and a young stallion and sent them on their way to the colonies. Her father, the baronet was boasting that his daughter was marrying a man with land, if not a title, but that was yet another rumor, growing more with the telling. Still, some of theToninsisted that Miss Danbury had run off with the stablemaster. At least Lord Wentwell’s name was absent from the latest rumors about Miss Danbury.

~.~

As the dance ended, Lord Wentwell stood, still holding Lady Charity’s hand and asked, “What on earth was I doing, that I was kicked in the face by a horse?”

Lady Charity collapsed into giggles and Lord Wentwell just shook his head. There was no explaining rumor.

Reluctantly, he let Charity go, to dance with Colonel Ranier. Neville was not happy that he had to let her dance with others, but even married couples rarely danced with each other. As much as he wanted to keep her to himself, he had to be satisfied with only two, or perhaps three dances per event. He had managed to enlist his friend’s help to be sure that she did not dance with Michael Poppy…just in case she had any feeling for the man after all.

Now, Lady Charity was dancing with Lord Beresford who was already married to Charity’s good friend, Patience. Neville could finally relax.

“You know,” Reginald told his friends as Neville paused for a drink. “Captain Hartfield says wagers are being taken that your wedding will be celebrated before Christmas. I told Hartfield, you shall not make it until Christmas. I think you will not make it to the end of the summer. What say you, Wentwell?”

“Hmm?” Neville said. He was busy watching Lady Charity dance the quadrille. She and Lord Beresford had joined Flora Muirwood and James Poppy. He wanted to be sure that none of the gentlemen became overly friendly with her. It was irksome that he could not dance every dance with her.

“Shall I take that bet?” Samuel asked, “Or are you going to dither around for another month or two?”