Carter was having a heck of a time figuring out Miss Danvers. She froze when Sterling and Clancy approached them and even asked for another glass of lemonade just so she could get away. He would love to believe that was because she only wanted to spend time with him, but his inbred modesty would not allow that.
It was clear the two men made her nervous. Just as he still hadn’t figured out why she’d been upset when he mentioned his brother and father, he tried to pin down when she became distressed this time. It was when he introduced Lord Sterling. Again, it was the nobility issue, he was certain.
There was something about the upper class that caused her to retreat into herself or attempt to escape. The four of them strolled out the door and the graveled pathway. Sterling kept up a constant chatter with Clancy popping in a word or two.
Carter was too aware of Miss Danvers for inane conversation.
“Miss Danvers, I must say once again that you are very familiar. Do you have family in London that you might have visited?” Sterling continued to stare at her until Carter wanted to plant the man a facer.
“No. No one. I never go to London.”
Of course, Carter knew that to be a blatant lie since they’d just returned from Berkshire’s wedding. But he was not about to dispute her claim when she obviously did not want to admit to it.
“I’m finding the air quite chilly.” Miss Danvers was, indeed, shivering so they all headed back to the ballroom.
“Ah, now I get to claim my dance.” Before Carter could stop him, Sterling took Miss Danvers’ arm and led her to the dance floor. The minstrels began a country dance, which separated the couples into two lines.
Carter stood on the sidelines, barely holding a conversation with Clancy since his attention was riveted on Miss Danvers. Every time Sterling spoke to her, she shook her head. It was apparent she was growing quite agitated.
“Excuse me,” Carter said, stepping away from Clancy. He walked up to Sterling and tapped him on the shoulder. “My turn, Sterling.”
The man looked surprised, then annoyed, but good manners had him stepping back. He gave a slight bow and Carter took his place. He looked over at Miss Danvers and winked. She smiled back and the dance continued.
He loved being a knight to her damsel in distress.
Carter, Lady Pamela, and Miss Danvers settled into his carriage and after he gave the signal, the driver left the front of the Assembly Rooms. Pleasant conversation continued among the three, but Carter was aware that Miss Danvers seemed out of sorts. He seemed to always be aware of her. He still wondered about her sad eyes.
Although he’d rescued her from Sterling, she had remained on guard for the rest of their time at the dance. Eventually, when she turned down another gentleman who wanted to dance with her, she asked Carter if they could depart, stating she had the beginning of a megrim. Lady Pamela seemed ready to leave also, so they made their way to the carriage.
They came to a rolling stop in front of Lady Pamela’s boarding house first and Carter escorted her to her door. She thanked him, and he was pleased to note she hardly stuttered at all. Perhaps she was becoming more comfortable with him and considered him a friend.
Once he returned to the carriage and the vehicle began to move, he took a deep breath and said, “Miss Danvers can you tell me why you were so upset with Lord Sterling?”
Her face immediately grew red. “I was not upset with Lord Sterling.”
“Yes. You were.” He offered her a soft smile, but his words were strong enough that she glanced out the window at the darkness rather than look at him. Taking a chance, he leaned forward, took her hands in his and tugged until she landed on the seat next to him.
“Mr. Westbrooke!” Although she attempted to look shocked, he saw a glimmer of humor in her eyes.
“Carter, if you will. Can I please persuade you to call me by my given name?” He held onto her hands to keep her from moving back across the space. She curled her fingers into a fist and her lips tightened.
He placed his knuckle under her chin and turned her face toward him. “You’ve given me the impression that you regard the nobility with disdain. Not just Lord Sterling, but all the lords and ladies. Particularly the lords.”
She shook her head and tried to remove her hands, but he wouldn’t let go.
“No. That is not true.” There was almost a sense of pleading in her tone. Whatever was it that disturbed her so. Had she been abused?
Just the thought of this beautiful sweet woman being misused by a man was enough to send him searching for the cad and beating him to a pulp.
Since he saw no point in arguing about the matter as it would only upset her further, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her body against his. “I hope that since we are friends you would share with me any difficulties you had with Lord Sterling. Did he say something to insult you?”
She edged away from him, and he loosened his grip. He did not want her to feel as though she had anything to fear from him.
It took him barely a few seconds to realize she was crying.
“Miss Danvers?”
“Yes.” She looked up at him, her eyes bright with tears. “That is me.” She switched from distress to anger. “At least I always thought that was me, but now I’m no longer sure.” She wiped the tears from her face, and once again the sadness returned. “I’m no longer sure of anything.” She slowly shook her head.
He pushed a curl behind her ear that had become loose. “What is wrong, Lottie? Can I help?” Her name just slipped out. It was how he thought of her—and he thought of her a great deal—and for some reason, it appeared that right now her last name troubled her.
Ignoring his slip in addressing her, she said, “No one can help me.” She turned her face toward him, and he could not help himself. She was so beautiful in the soft light bathing her face from the lantern on the wall of the carriage. Her creamy cheeks were flushed, her eyelashes clumped with tears. He gently cupped her cheeks in his hands and lowered his head, covering her perfect lips with his.
Within seconds, he was sure he had reached heaven. She was all he had hoped she would be. Her lips were soft, warm, and moist. He nudged her mouth with his tongue expecting to be bitten, but instead she opened for him. He pulled her closer, so her soft breasts were pressed up against his coat. Carter cursed the clothing separating them, wanting to feel her warm skin next to his.
She tasted better than he’d imagined, and his imagination was quite strong. He shifted their bodies and slanted her head so he could go deeper with the kiss. Tentative at first, Lottie soon made her own exploration, tangling lightly with his tongue.
Her slight moans increased his desire, her enthusiasm delightful. Carter pulled back and looked her in the eyes. Her eyes were round—surprise or anger?—and she stared at his mouth, tempting him to taste her again.
Hoping to avoid a set-down, he said, “If what I just did upsets you, please let me know.”
He held his breath as she licked her lips and slowly shook her head as if not quite sure. “No. I don’t think so.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. A quick glance out the window told him they still had some time before they would arrive at her building. “Please understand that I will never let anyone hurt you. I know we haven’t known each other long, but you must admit there is something between us.”
She began to shake her head. “No. You don’t understand.”
He smiled at her. “Are you denying that, Miss Danvers?”
She sighed and closed her eyes, which gave him the opportunity to kiss her again. And kiss her, he did. His mouth explored hers, touching, tasting, nipping, soothing. As much as he wanted to strip all her clothes off and plunge into her warm moistness, he was satisfied with just holding her and feeling her safe in his arms.
Never had he been satisfied with mere kisses, always anxious to take the next step. Miss Danvers was different. An innocent. A sweet gently reared young woman who he was growing more and more fond of every day.
He pulled back and ran his knuckle down her soft cheek. “I care for you, Lottie. Very much so. We have a lot in common, and you know there is a bond between us. There has been since you dumped your wine on me.” He grinned when she smiled. “With your permission, I would like to court you.”
Her sad eyes returned, and she offered him a forlorn smile. “No. I am afraid that is not possible.”
Had she stated that emphatically, he would have stopped, but her reluctance was evident in the sorrow on her face.
“I don’t know what is troubling you, or what happened in your life that is making you so very sad, but can you trust me?”
The carriage came to a slow stop in front of her building. “Lottie?”
She pulled back and shook her head. “No. I-I don’t think it would work. You deserve much more than me.” Before he could respond to that strange remark, she turned and fumbled with the door, jumping from the carriage before he could even assist her. She stumbled and went down on one knee, quickly recovering, and moved forward.
“Lottie!” He jumped out after her, but she scurried up the steps and quickly opened the outside door, slamming it in his face without even turning around as he reached the top step.
What the hell just happened?
Lottie rested her chin on her propped-up hand and stared into the mirror over the dressing table in her bedroom. The Assembly the night before had been a disaster.
She feared Lord Sterling would eventually figure out why she looked familiar. The repeated questions he badgered her with during their dance almost had her walking off the floor. Thankfully, Carter seemed to notice her distress and rescued her.
Once again.
It surprised her that now she thought of him as Carter. After all, how could one continue to call a gentleman, Mr. Westbrooke, when said gentleman had kissed her senseless?
And senseless she had been. After that wonderful—and her first ever—kiss, she felt warm, happy, and contented. That was the sort of thing young girls dreamed of, and some were fortunate enough to have. A man who cared for them and gave them impressive kisses.
And then after he’d saved her from that dreadful man, she’d made a fool of herself by running off when he asked to court her. It was a simple request, and probably one he felt was innocuous enough to certainly not have her fleeing like the hounds of hell were after her.
He must think her a total ninny.
Now she was faced with church service—which she tried to never miss—and running into Carter and having to face him.
Church services in the small chapel, the students had attended in France, were much more elaborate than the services in England, but she still derived a great deal of peace when she worshiped.
She took a deep breath and picked up her brush to fix her hair. She felt as though her safe little world was crumbling. What if she had to flee Bath as she had London?
Despite Lottie’s insistence that she could support herself, Mama had continued to send her money each month. The money was sitting in a bank account in Bath, untouched. If she found it necessary to once again leave her home, she would be forced to use that money. The little bit she earned from instructing young ladies on proper behavior barely kept her fed and a roof over her head.