Page 49 of Charity

Her gaze darted about the room and settled briefly on a far corner, where Lady Penelope stood with her father, sister, and her ever-present brother-in-law, Lord Prewitt. It would be expected that Oscar should be conversing with their party, not delaying his return with meaningless chatter to another of Daventry’s friends. But he wanted Agatha.

As he drained the last of his drink, a necessary fortification for the long dinner ahead, he noticed how often Penelope’s eyes turned toward her brother by marriage. She was clearly fond of him, though there was never anything in Prewitt’s manner to suggest he was similarly affected. Her sister gazed adoringly at Prewitt, too, but in the manner acceptable in polite circles for a wife—a saucy smile, a gentle touch.

He looked forward to the day when Agatha might be that easy with him in society. He longed for the moment when he might introduce her as his wife.

He accepted another glass, swallowed a mouthful, and then considered his fresh glass. He wasn’t foxed. The drink had had little effect on him so far, but he was well on the way to feeling more himself than he had in months. A man who was sure of one thing.

The woman he loved beyond anything else in life had stepped into the room.

Within moments, he was at her side. “Miss Birkenstock, may I say you look enchanting tonight.”

Agatha blinked at his sudden arrival, and then quickly dropped into a curtsey. “You are too kind, my lord.”

So formal, so proper. Too distant. That would never do. He caught her hand and kissed the air above it. He let a little of his delight show in his grin, but only so much that Agatha would notice. He turned to her grandfather. “Mr. Birkenstock, sir. It is good to see you returned to Town. Was your trip a pleasant one?”

“Yes, yes. No trouble at all,” Birkenstock puffed. “Although I did not like being absent from my granddaughter.”

“I’m sure that being at any distance from Miss Birkenstock is quite unsettling.”

Oscar spoke the truth. The minute Agatha was near, all his troubles vanished. His heart no longer raced, except with anticipation. But there would be very little touching tonight. He had to be on his best behavior or else risk spoiling Lilly’s evening.

A little bell rang out in the hall and they turned for the splendor of the Earl of Daventry’s dining table. The room was perfect, glowing with golden light with fine china and crystal. The servants waited patiently to ensure Lady Daventry’s first dinner was a success, each determined to make the night perfect.

Oscar skirted the table until he found a servant holding his chair. When Agatha moved to sit in the space beside him, he was momentarily startled. By rights, Lady Daventry could place her guests anywhere, of course, but her choice tonight was interesting. He had expected to sit next to Lady Penelope. In fact, he’d dreaded that very event. But Penelope was seated far from him, and when the ladies all sat in unison, he wasn’t disappointed in the least.

But Agatha fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable with her location at his side. A glance across the table showed that more than one eye turned their way, considering the odd seating placement. Lady Daventry met his gaze and winked—actually winked across the long expanse of mahogany. If he didn’t know her heart was firmly captured by her possessive husband, he’d be uncomfortable with the gesture. But knowing Lilly’s nature, he concluded that Daventry had told her of his attachment to Agatha, and she’d taken steps to place them together.

His mother, ever one to deflect attention from any faux pas made by new hostesses, began an animated and very timely conversation with their hosts as a distraction. But her glances in his direction hinted that she was going to question him later. He hadn’t satisfied her curiosity earlier in the day, and he wouldn’t be doing it tonight either.

Once all attention had been diverted by the delivery of the first course and further conversation, Oscar cleared his throat. “I understand you’ve been quite a help to our mutual friend. Daventry tells me you assisted Lilly a great deal with the planning for this evening. Everything looks wonderful.”

“I did assist her with some things, but this, the seating arrangement, was entirely her doing. For all her delicate looks, she is quite the most willful creature.”

He chuckled and signaled for Agatha’s glass to be refilled, as well as his own. “I must remember to thank Lilly properly later. She is a woman determined to secure my heart.”

“Your heart? Is your heart so easily captured then by a saucy wink?”

Oscar pressed his napkin to his lips to hide his smile. “Affection and loyalty seem far too tame when offered such a great service. She has seated me beside my heart’s desire, and a few paltry words cannot properly express my joy. You see, I may talk to you all evening without causing any great scandal simply because I must be attentive. Most hostesses have not been quite so nice to me in the past.”

Agatha’s lips lifted in amusement while she directed her attention to her fish.

Beneath the table, Oscar pressed his leg to hers. “You see now why I must love her as I would perhaps a sibling. But a nice sibling, not like my own sister, Mirelle. She would never be so good to me.”

Agatha turned her head and caught his gaze. Her hand dropped to her lap and then, as she fidgeted with her napkin, her fingers slipped sideways to brush his encroaching thigh. A small tingle of awareness shot to his groin, and then, when she did it again, he had the devil of a time not returning the caress.

Thankfully, the dinner was barely begun. He would have plenty of time to regain control of himself before he was forced to stand as the ladies left the table. “I see the Ettingtons and Hallams are not in attendance.”

Agatha’s hands returned to her utensils. “No. Unfortunately—or fortunately, from their perspective—the ladies are in somewhat delicate conditions, and their husbands prefer them not to travel. Lilly looks forward to seeing them at Christmas.”

Oscar sipped his wine. “As should you.”

Agatha’s gaze shot sideways. “My grandfather has made no decision, as yet, of whether to accept Ettington’s invitation. I hope to go.”

Oscar took a bite of lamb and looked about the table as he chewed. Most couples were either in deep conversation or devouring the earl’s repast with great enthusiasm. No one was paying attention to them. He offered Agatha a quick, reassuring smile. “Depend upon it. You will be at Hazelmere for the house party. We are going.”

Agatha’s eyes widened.

“I’ll call on him tomorrow.” He nodded toward her grandfather. “I promise.”