Heart's Desire

Chapter Twenty-Four

Charity flashed a smile she did not feel at Sir Vincent. Her current guard had gone to fetch her, and a few other ladies punch. The overburdened man did not come back alone. Baron Middleford's niece, Miss Emmaline Ryder, accompanied Stephens. In either hand, she held two more cups of Negus.

Ensconced in a group of chattering matrons, Charity didn't pay their conversation any mind. Instead, after accepting her glass of punch, her gaze flicked to find her husband. He was on the opposite end of the room, surrounded by a few other lords of the realm.

A breathy giggle from Millicent, seated amid elderly matrons, momentarily drew Charity's attention. The topic of discussion was one lady's choice of accessories. Large peacock feathers bobbed from her head. Although they would have been beautiful in moderation, her arrangement resembled the bird's tail in full fan.

Taking a sip of the warm, spiced wine, Charity's mind switched to its favorite topic of late. Julian had left her shortly after they were announced, giving her into Ant's care. They had a role to play, one of an estranged couple. He'd gone to talk with this politician or that, moving ever closer to Lord Middleford. As she tracked his progress, the promise he made to speak with her later filled her thoughts. What could he have meant? And was it just her imagination or had he sounded angry?

Before the battle lines had been drawn, Charity danced the cotillion with Julian. It had not been conducive to private conversation, therefore making it impossible to ask about his reaction to her declaration. Then, Ant, who'd been in their set with Miss Middleford, had claimed her for the Quadrille. Then there was Sir Vincent for a waltz, then Mr. Bladen for a country dance. When Lord Nevill came to claim the next set, she'd cried exhaustion, and he'd brought her to be near Millicent.

Biting back a sigh, Charity's gaze returned to her group. With an inner determination, she tried to put Julian out of her mind. It would do their pretense no good if she were caught mooning over her husband.

The vow she'd made to herself didn't last long. As her gaze scanned the room in search of her husband, Charity realized this was fast turning out to be the worst Middleford Ball she'd been to yet. Yes, she'd danced more than ever before. The gown she wore was expensive and exquisite, drawing many compliments. From her neck dripped fine jewels, and her hair was arranged in the latest style – sans feathers of any kind. But she was more worried about how her husband had taken her profession of love than she was about the possibility of being murdered.

These roles they were forced to play wore thin.

Suddenly, Edmund was before Charity, blocking her view of Julian. All smiles and flirtation, he asked her to dance. Eager for the distraction he offered, she accepted.

The strains of a waltz began, and Lord Nevill drew Charity slightly closer than was usual. As his hold wasn't technically improper, she didn't feel the need to correct him. It was in the baron's nature to skirt the edge of propriety, after all.

While they whirled about the room, Edmund had Charity discreetly chuckling as he made witty remarks about their fellow guests. Julian's friend was an astute judge of character. She'd known many of these people for a decade and couldn't sum up their natures in one line as easily as he.

Once the waltz ended, Edmund led Charity on a circuitous route about the room. The baron was hailed by quite a few misses, young and old alike. Some were wed, yet they still tried to catch his eye and attention. Lord Nevill took it all in stride. Although he never gave them the cut direct, nor was he drawn near enough to be trapped into conversation.

That the handsome baron preferred Charity's company made many a longing gaze turn spiteful. She was confident she'd be the subject of many a wagging tongue come morning. New rumors were bound to spread.