Page 3 of Always the Chaperone

His eyes glittered. “How you love it so much, you mean, when it means helping out a friend who has stood by your brother’s side.”

“You blaggard,” sighed Charlotte. Anything to get away. “Give the details to Matthews, and I will see if I am available.”

It was infuriating being unable to find a quiet place where she could think in her own home! But Richard had insisted on the guest list, and though Stonehaven Lacey was a large manor, it was unaccustomed to hosting hundreds.

Wherever Charlotte turned, there were people, well-wishers, gossips, footmen, the curious, the nosy, and the downright irritating. All she wanted was a minute to sit quietly and think. To treasure that moment when her eyes had met his.

And then she thought of it. Within moments, she was turning a handle and seeing with relief that the music room was empty.

She shut the door and leaned on it. Peace at last. As soon as Richard and Tabitha left for their honeymoon, she was going straight to Bath. How strange that, today, Bath was the quieter option!

The large pianoforte was in the center of the room, the heavy linen cover faded in patches. The door to the garden was open, but the music room was on the other side of the house from those celebrating her brother’s wedding. No one would find her here. Throwing open the doors, Charlotte breathed in the clean spring air and slumped onto the piano stool.

She should have expected it. She should have known a wedding was the perfect opportunity for young people to meet potential suitors, for young ladies who had just come out this Season to hunt for husbands.

At five and thirty, she had seen the same dance over and over again. Some of her peers, ladies of title and fortune who had come out with her, were starting to think of matches for their own children.

Charlotte pushed up the lid of the pianoforte, allowing her hand to rest gently on the keys. There was no use in denying it. She was a spinster, and her only role in the marriage market now was to help others.

Her fingers fell naturally into a Mozart sonata. It had been one of the first pieces Mr. Portland, their tutor, had taught her. A natural smile crept across her face at the memory of his frustration, eventually admitting politely—for a tutor did not scream with irritation at the daughter of a duke—that she would never be much of a musician.

All these years later, it turned out she was not much of a lady of society either.

“I am almost sure I know that tune.”

Chapter Two

It was disgracefulmanners to appear bored before a lady. William Lennox knew this even before he had ascended to the title of Duke of Mercia.

But that did not make it easier when Miss Darby warbled on about all of the delightful beaus at Almack’s.

“—but then, as a doctor, of course, he is rather busy with his patients,” she simpered, throwing a look up to William. “It is difficult to shake off Mr. Prander, however, who…”

Keep your smile steady, William told himself. After all, it wasn’t possible for Miss Darby to continue talking indefinitely without drawing breath. Was it?

A quick glance at his brother, John, told him it was. When gentlemen of good fortune and name looked at Miss Darby the way his brother was now—eyes glazed, a winning smile—she would continue until she ran out of breath.

What a day. He had not expected a wedding would be the place to be barraged by young ladies and their mamas, but it was worse than the Pump Room for silly chits looking to secure a rich and preferably titled husband.

When the letter from the Court of St. James had arrived, informing him he had inherited a title, he had been concerned about financial responsibilities. Little had he known that siring an heir would take precedence.

So, to the marriage market he had come, and apparently every woman under thirty, too. William smiled, despite himself. Well, hadn’t he earned it?

What a shame all these young ladies were all so insipid.

“No, I do not believe you, Miss Darby!” His brother laughed.

William laughed too late. John, or the Marquess of Gloucester as he was now, glanced at him with a questioning look, but William shrugged it away. How could he explain his discontent?

There were undoubtedly gentlemen who dreamt of waking up one morning with a title, but they would be fools. It had certainly entertained John. But William had never sought that life, and discovering that his own desires, opinions, even direction in life would now have to bow to the heavy burden of his new name was tiresome beyond words.

What he would give for some real conversation.

“Mercia, are you feeling well?” John pulled his arm, taking him outside the circle of ladies as Miss Darby went to speak to the bride. “You are hardly attending to Miss Darby.”

“Is it little wonder?” retorted William. “First the boredom of London, then the repetition of Bath, and now this? I had thought flirtation and courting was something to look forward to after the war, but this is just irritating.”

His brother did not look convinced. “You jest, surely. Miss Seton was a delight to speak with, and Miss Tilbury, perhaps too much so!”