“I would not allow that!”
The words shot from Charles’ mouth with such force that Banfield’s eyes flared with astonishment for a moment before he began to laugh, wiggling one finger in Charles’ direction.
“If that is not evidence of your feelings towards the lady, then I do not know what is,” he said, as a flush of embarrassment crept into Charles’ face. “You cannot abide the idea of another gentleman courting her. Not when you hope to do so yourself.”
Charles considered this carefully, examining his heart and discovering that everything Banfield said was quite correct. He did want to court Lady Selina. In fact, he wished for more than that, were he being entirely honest. Even the suggestion that she might be courted by another gentleman sent a bitter taste into his mouth, a hard anger beginning to form within him as he considered it. That was not something he could permit. He would speak to Lady Selina and beg for her consideration before he would allow such a thing to occur!
“She needs to know how you feel and what your intentions are,” Banfield said, quietly. “Even if you do not wish to do any more at present – which is quite understandable given what is at hand – she will be glad to know the thoughts and considerations within your heart and mind, Barrington. It will give her hope.”
A frown flickered across Charles’ brow.
“Hope?”
Again, Banfield grinned, although he shook his head in evident frustration that Charles was seemingly unaware of what he was about to say.
“The lady cares for you also, I am quite sure of it,” he said, firmly. “But she does not know the truth of how you feel! Therefore, she considers you and wonders about you and silently prays that something will be said, something will be done which will prove to her that her affections and loyalty are not misplaced.”
The way Lady Selina had looked into his eyes some two nights ago, when he had taken her hand, the sparkle in her eyes and the joy in her expression, slammed back hard into Charles’ mind. He had found himself reaching to take her fingers in his on more than one occasion, his eagerness to protect the lady growing steadily as he did so. Was Banfield correct? Did he need to say something to her, so that she understood what he felt and what he yearned for?
“Consider it, at least,” Banfield replied, only to be interrupted by a tap at the door.
“Enter.”
Charles waited as the butler stepped in, holding out a silver tray towards him.
“This has only just arrived, my Lord,” the butler said, as Charles picked up the sealed note. “There was no expectation of a reply, however.”
“I see,” Charles murmured, turning the letter over and seeing the seal which he knew to be that of Lord Donaldson. His heart turned over in his chest. “Thank you.”
“Might I fetch you anything else, Lord Barrington?”
“No, nothing more at this point.”
Charles waited until the door was closed tightly, then gestured to the letter.
“It is from Lord Donaldson.”
Banfield was out of his chair in an instant as Charles broke open the seal, his heart hammering at a furious pace as he did so.
“‘Lord Telford has informed me that he intends to take on my bet’,” Charles read aloud, as Banfield nodded, his expression a little grim. “‘At Lord Copeland’s ball in two days’ time. I am to meet him – or his accomplice – in the green room, where I will be shown proof of their achievement.’”
Charles blew out his breath between flattened lips, feeling both relief and burning anger growing within him.
“Then Lord Telford does intend to take on the bet, as we had expected,” Banfield murmured, not returning to his chair, but instead beginning to walk up and down the length of Charles’ study. “Lady Selina must be informed.”
“I will write to her at once,” Charles began, only to see his friend frown at him. “That is to say, I shall call upon her at once.”
“An excellent suggestion,” Banfield replied, with a chuckle, lightening the tense atmosphere almost at once. “And who knows? There may be opportunity for you to speak of something other than Lord Telford’s plan!”
Charles tried to scowl, but found himself smiling despite himself. Picking up his glass of whisky, he finished the rest and then, folding the letter and placing it inside his pocket, he rose from his chair.
“I think I shall go at once, Banfield. Do excuse me, will you?”
Banfield chuckled.
“But of course,” he said, making his way to the door. “I myself have another pressing visit that I must undertake just as soon as I can.”
“Oh?”
Charles looked at his friend, who was now standing by the open door, waiting for him.
“With Lady Amelia,” Banfield replied, with a broad smile. “She is waiting for me in the drawing room. I did say that I would not be long with you.”
With happiness in his heart that his sister had not only found such an excellent gentleman in Banfield but that, in addition, Banfield himself appeared to be so very contented, Charles let a broad smile curve his lips.
“Then I suggest that you hurry,” he replied, walking smartly towards the door. “And Banfield, if you have not done so already, then might I suggest that you tell her the truth of what is in your heart?” He shrugged and gestured with his hands, spreading them wide. “The true depth of feeling that is held there, you understand. I know for certain that she will appreciate
