What was she trying to accomplish?
It didn’t take long for him to get a fair idea, considering the last few weeks and the looks, conversations, and contact they’d had. He didn’t dare put a name to it, having felt the wounds of disappointed hopes for years, but if he was right, Charlotte might have something vastly intriguing to tell him.
But there was no sense in making it simple for her to do so.
It was not particularly accommodating of him, but there was an inordinate amount of fun in being pursued by the woman he had pursued for years. He’d let her tell him eventually, he was not entirely cruel. He just needed to see how determined she was. There was nothing that drove Charlotte more than obstacles to her success. A driven Charlotte in this regard could be a rather grand sight.
All the better for him.
Striding out to the gardens, Michael eyed the gathering with some anticipation. All of Charlotte’s friends in the Spinsters were here, or would be shortly, as well as Lord and Lady Sterling, Mr. and Mrs. Andrews, who were great friends of the Vales as well as the Radcliffes, and various other members of Society that he actually could tolerate for more than five minutes at a time. Any event hosted by the Wrights usually involved the best of Society, which made invitations difficult to come by.
Michael always had a standing invitation, and had the last week or so not happened, he might have had that revoked this time.
“My sister was looking for you,” Charles Wright mentioned as he passed him to head out to the guests. “I’d make yourself scarce, she’s rather in high dudgeon.”
The warning made Michael laugh to himself. She’d be in even higher dudgeon once he played with her a little.
“That should not make you smile.” Charles shook his head, exhaling heavily. “What are you up to?”
He shrugged easily, loving the edge of excitement he felt nipping at his heels. “I thought I might provoke your sister a little. For her own good, of course. It will be worth it.”
Charles grinned the way only an older brother can. “It is always worth it to provoke Charlotte. Carry on.” Chuckling, he moved out into the gardens fully, shaking his head.
Well, at least somebody else would appreciate Michael’s plan.
Michael continued to survey the gathering, and suddenly locked eyes with Charlotte, who was watching him steadily from her present position under a tree.
He let himself smile at her, trying to ignore how his heart pounded the longer he stared, and waved as though this were any other time he had come to her home.
The quick flash of smile was well worth everything. She waved back, the gesture surprisingly discreet for her, which only further supported his suspicion.
He shook himself free from the sudden Charlotte-induced stupor and wandered into the gardens, taking a glass of lemonade from the table that had been set up. He nodded at Miranda, whose return to London had been much heralded, and shook his head in amusement at the sight of Henshaw and Kitty Morton, who had already found a quiet spot for themselves to speak without much by way of chaperone.
He’d suggest someone take up that role after a few minutes, but surely they deserved a few moments unobserved. Or as unobserved as they could be at a gathering like this.
A movement to his left caught his eye, and he saw Charlotte heading in his direction. He moved to a footman nearby at once. “Come get me in three minutes,” he ordered through a polite smile. “Make something up.”
“Sir?” the bewildered lad queried.
“Just do it. Trust me.”
He didn’t seem convinced, but he nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Good man.” Michael nodded in return, then walked away, continuing to greet others politely. Every nerve and fiber was attuned to Charlotte and her position to him, though, and he waited almost breathlessly for her to reach him.
Then, at last, she was there.
“Michael.”
He turned and smiled at Charlotte, willing himself to appear only glad to see her, not overly eager. “Charlotte. Marvelous turnout today, your mother will be pleased.”
She nodded, looking around, though it was a cursory look at best. “Yes, I suppose she will be. She’s in conversation with Mrs. Lambert at the present, which should worry anybody and everybody, but there are worse options.”
Michael agreed with a nod. “Mrs. Lambert may raise concerns in certain ways, but at least she is safe.”
“Unless she is talking of tea, and then we are all doomed.” Charlotte looked up at him with a quick smile, so like their former ease he ached for it.
But they could not go back. Only forward.
Michael sipped his lemonade cautiously. Charlotte could make the first move here, if she thought to do so. If he knew her as he thought he did, she would leap at the chance.
“I’ve broken with Jonathan Riley.”
That was not the opening he had anticipated, and he did not have to pretend at choking on his beverage. “Oh, no,” he said with as much feeling as he could muster, shaking his head and adopting a sympathetic expression. “Charlotte, I am so sorry.”
She lifted her chin, gloriously steady in this moment. “Don’t be. I found I was wasting both of our time, and it is far better this way.”
Was it, now?
Marvelous.
Michael shook his head as if in despair. “You liked him so much. You ought to take time to heal.”
Charlotte’s brow creased a little. “I don’t need to.”
He pretended not to hear and only exhaled a heavy sigh. “The loss will be painful, I know. You must be feeling it keenly; I can’t imagine how you’re facing any of us with that on your heart.”
“What?” Charlotte bleated, utterly lost now. “No, Michael, I’m fine.”
He put a hand on her arm, squeezing gently and looking at her
