Diana, possessing none of the bias and more of the kindness than Michael had, returned the smile. “And what a lovely team of horses, Mr. Riley! I am quite envious.”
“Are you a horsewoman, Miss Palmer?” He chuckled and gestured to them. “If you are, please, feel free to touch them. The one nearest you is Annie, she’ll purr like a kitten. The other is Bonnie, and she’s more judgmental.”
To Michael’s surprise, Diana moved to the horses and began to rub their noses, speaking softly. Then she smiled up at the phaeton passengers. “Good morning, Miss Wright. I do hope you don’t mind the delay in your ride.”
“Not at all,” Charlotte assured her with a genuine smile that shocked Michael further. “I have little enough appreciation of horses myself, but it is clear you have a way with them. You should be a country woman, Miss Palmer.”
“I intend to,” Diana quipped, her eyes darting to Michael almost hesitantly before returning to the horses. “Mr. Sandford and I were just talking about the country, as it happens.”
Mr. Riley gave Michael an interested look then. “Really, Sandford? Are you a man of the countryside?”
“I believe so,” Michael replied, forcing his tone to remain even for the man who had no idea how or why Michael disliked him. “I grow fonder of my estate day by day, and it may surprise people how deeply I love it. I’ve spent so long in London, they’d never know. I think I may stop pretending that I don’t love being there and start keeping myself in the place I am happiest.”
“What?” Charlotte’s voice broke through his fervent avowal and drew his attention back to her. “I didn’t know that. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Michael met her eyes squarely, his throat tightening with the memories of the heat and sweetness her lips had held. “It never seemed the time. But it is so.”
Her expression shuttered, and her lips formed a tight line. No one seeing her would think anything amiss, but Michael saw the discomfiture before she could clear it.
Then her face became shockingly blank, and he knew nothing about what lay beneath. “Jonathan doesn’t have much experience in the country,” Charlotte announced with a playfully sad note to her voice, snaking her hand around his arm and smiling at Mr. Riley. “He comes from the mill towns of the north.”
Mr. Riley shrugged, smiling as he released a heavy sigh. “Alas, I will never know the thrill of the hunt, and all else that a gentleman does when in the country, the details of which completely escape me.” He winked at Charlotte, then looked at Michael. “I am quite envious, Sandford. It sounds idyllic, I will confess.”
“It is,” Michael responded shortly, his smile strained. “But I imagine you find great satisfaction in your work where you are. Perhaps our paths are ours for a purpose.”
“Amen to that, sir.” Mr. Riley nodded in approval, genuine enjoyment appearing on his features. “I fear I would not last more than a few days in the country before I would yearn for the sounds of the mills.”
The discrepancy in tastes made Michael’s smile more easy, full of irony though it was. “And I would be fascinated by the mills, but within days, long for the pastures and farms.”
“Yet the world spins for us both,” Riley added, picking up his reins. “And, no doubt, is better for our different spheres.”
“One can hope,” Michael murmured.
Riley prepared to snap the reins, then paused, looking down at them again. “Do you all plan to attend the dinner party at Ingrams’ tomorrow?”
“Yes,” Diana replied before Michael could offer his own reply. “I’m so delighted to have been invited!”
“She’s looking forward to meeting you, Miss Palmer,” Charlotte told her, still smiling.
It would appear Michael would be going as well, though he hadn’t intended on it purely to avoid Charlotte.
“Then it appears we will be seeing each other there.” Riley tapped the brim of his hat to the group, smile growing as he did so. “Excellent. I’m a terrible bore at parties, so allies are much appreciated.” With a flick of the reins, his horses moved on, pulling the tidy phaeton behind them.
Michael watched them go, wondering if he might be sick shortly.
“What a striking couple!” Diana said with an almost disbelieving shake of her head, her bonnet ribbons swaying against her as she did so.
“Yes,” Michael muttered, thinking striking was an excellent choice of word.
He rather did feel struck when he saw them together.
He did not care for that at all.
“Shall we continue, Miss Palmer?” he offered, gesturing back to the path. “I think you’ll enjoy the paths coming up.”
“Hensh, I may be ill.”
“What? Why?”
Charlotte swallowed, shaking her head.
“Erm… please don’t?”
She forced herself to exhale slowly, her hands laying almost feebly against her stomach as she and Hensh surveyed the room. “I may not have much control over such things,” she admitted weakly.
“I find that hard to believe,” he protested in a boastful tone. “You control all things. Command your body to be well, and to cease such abuse.”
Charlotte managed a weak laugh. “If only I could.”
Hensh turned to her, his expression furrowed. “What’s the trouble, Charlotte?”
“I cannot say,” she whispered, heat flooding her cheeks. “I’m afraid…”
“Of what?” Hensh pressed. “The Ingrams are hosting creditably, your beau will arrive shortly, and you are not expected to do or say anything. What are you afraid of?”
Charlotte looked at him, eyes wide. “Michael will be coming. With Diana Palmer.”
Hensh raised a brow. “And what about that frightens you?”
“I don’t know how I feel about it,” Charlotte admitted, one of her hands pressed further against her stomach, the pressure oddly comforting. “Diana is a lovely girl, and she adores the Spinsters.”
“A sure sign of intelligence and taste, I must say.” Hensh smiled rather indulgently, nudging her side with familiarity.
Charlotte returned his smile weakly, the thing
