“I wish her well,” Nellie said. “Now, you must excuse me. Poor Aunt Bea is waiting for her drink.”
“Yes, you must attend to Queen Bea.” Charlotte reminded her of a satisfied cat. “Fanny said Shewsbury’s name was on Drusilla’s list,” she added as she turned away.
Nellie watched the spiteful woman move through the crowd as her mind whirled. Was there any truth to it? Could there still be something between Drusilla and Charles after all this time? Would he have asked Nellie to marry him if he’d known Drusilla was free?
*
When the supper dance was called, Charles went to claim Nellie. It took him a while to find her. He finally discovered her in an alcove, engaged in an intense conversation with Marian.
“My, you two ladies look serious,” he said as he approached. “Have we run out of champagne?”
They both looked startled. Hadn’t Nellie been aware it was their dance? Was she so unaffected by him?
“A ghastly notion.” Marian recovered her composure with a grin.
Nellie laughed. “Papa has stocked enough in the cellars to sink a ship.”
The dance floor began to fill. He offered Nellie his arm. “My praise goes to your parents. A delightful affair.”
He led her onto the floor. “Has something occurred?”
“No. Mr. Braithwaite has lost his glasses. He’s blind as a bat without them.”
“Poor fellow.”
“Poor us. He plays the violin.”
He laughed. “Dear me.”
“I see you have charmed my Aunt Bea,” Nellie said as they waited for the first notes of the waltz. “It is not easy to do. She is very particular.”
He smiled. “Your aunt likes to talk about money.”
“She never concerns herself with society’s dictates.”
“I don’t see why she should.”
Nellie’s eyes warmed. She was obviously fond of her aunt. “I am totally in awe of her. Aunt Bea believes that on reaching a certain age, a lady might do as she pleases.” She laughed. “Perhaps it’s an excuse to behave disgracefully in her dotage.”
Her husky laugh captivated him. One of her many charms. He looked forward to discovering more of them, slowly, on their wedding night. “Your father and I have yet to fix the date of the wedding. It won’t be easy to arrange. The prince’s secretary must be consulted. He will wish to attend, as will the prime minister. The cathedral must be booked, or we won’t be able to marry until next year. We must discuss the honeymoon. I fear it may have to be delayed because of the war.”
“Yes, of course.” Nellie broke eye contact, and he sensed an almost physical withdrawal from him. Surprised by the change, he wondered what had so concerned her and her sister that they shut up like clams when he joined them.
“I trust that meets with your approval,” he said. “St. Paul’s is something of a tradition in my family.”
“Of course. I did expect it to be a large affair.” She looked dismayed and hardly the excited bride. He had to admit it might be somewhat intimidating. “You will make a lovely bride, Nellie.”
“Thank you, Charles.”
“And I shall be there to lean on.”
Her eyes searched his with a faint smile. “And I shall certainly take advantage of that, I assure you.”
He chuckled.
They stood near the French windows onto the terrace. Torrential rain gushed down the windowpanes. “I had planned a stroll on the terrace in the moonlight.” He hoped she would understand his romantic intentions. “But nature has other ideas.”
There was no responding glimmer in her eyes. “Papa is certain it will clear before morning. He is seldom wrong about the weather.”
“Lady Forrester tells me she and Mrs. Knight, and a few of the hardier guests who don’t plan to spend the afternoon languishing at cards, have expressed a desire to see more of the estate.” Perhaps they could slip away for a few minutes alone.
“Nathaniel will be only too pleased to escort them,” Nellie said.
No chance for a tête-à-tête, then. He wondered what had upset her, for something clearly had.
“We might play croquet for an hour or so if the lawn isn’t too wet. It’s one of my favorite games,” she said a little breathlessly.
The musicians struck up the waltz, and he took hold of her hand. He’d been looking forward to this since their kiss. He liked how she felt in his arms, her head just below his chin. Her slim hand settled in his, and with his gloved hand spread against the small of her narrow back, he breathed in her delicate perfume and swept her into the dance.
They moved well together, a good sign, he thought. “Jason always triumphed when we played croquet. Am I to fear your expertise?” he asked. “Roundly beaten by my bride-to-be? A man has his pride, particularly after your sister destroyed my confidence by beating me at archery.”
She laughed. “You have little to fear from me. Will Lord Jason and Lady Beverly be in London?”
“They reside in Dorset. A reclusive pair, but they are not long married,” he said. “My brother writes that they plan to come to London to meet you. In any event, they will be at our wedding.”
She nodded and continued the dance in silence. Her gown was the perfect foil for her lovely figure. He was surprised at how pleased he was to be marrying her. But Nellie’s feelings about the marriage, he wasn’t so sure of. She wasn’t shy or missish but rather cool. He smiled down at her, wanting them to begin on a good footing. A nervous bride-to-be? “We only have tomorrow, shall we go for a walk?”
“We might walk to the gazebo by the lake if it’s fine. I’ll ask Marian and Gerald to accompany us.”
A chaperone? Did she fear he might kiss her again? He hoped she would welcome it if he should choose to do so. “Your father tells me he is opening your townhome. You remove to London within a sennight.”
“Yes. My parents are
