"Lady Charlotte, good evening." He bowed to her, and then to the other ladies in turn.
Her eyes wandered over his form. He was still as handsome as ever. Drat. She would not let attraction distract her. He was polite, warm. But there was something different about him from the rest of the ton. He didn't belong.
Ice skated along her neck.
He didn't belong.
Could he possibly be the man who'd murdered Lord Barnsal? She strained, comparing his voice with the one that haunted her, but couldn't decide.
He was kind and patient as the others spoke with him, but was it all an act?
"Lady Charlotte?" he asked a second time.
Sugar lumps. She'd missed what he'd said. "I beg your pardon?"
His smile was slow, and her stomach fluttered in response. "I asked if I might claim the next dance. If you're free, of course."
Her pulse raced. He wanted to dance with her? It wasn't entirely out of the ordinary-her sister was married to one of his best friends-but dances between them were few and far between over the years. "I am honored and available for the next dance."
"Excellent." His eyes gleamed.
At her.
What was this all about? He'd never had any interest in her before. Nothing above polite inquires and obligated dances. Oh, sure, they got on well. He was a nice man after all, but he'd never expressed any desire to pursue her.
Ever since her sister had married the Duke of Wathersby, Charlotte found herself in Viscount Lawrence's company more often. He was handsome, intelligent, and wealthy. She would be lying to say the infatuation during her come out, years ago, had faded.
Was it possible he was interested in her?
He smiled, but there was no sparkle in his eyes. What did he want?
She circled back to her initial thoughts. It could be coincidence that he approached her, but for him to come now, after what happened earlier that night, raised suspicion even if it was hard to believe he was capable of such things. He was an honorable man, at least from everything she knew of him. Her brother-in-law would not be involved with Viscount Lawrence if he were a criminal, surely. Bradford might have been fooled. No one could be trusted.
He offered his arm, and she shivered once she took it. She didn't know if the visceral reaction was from fear or something else, but she didn't dwell on it. Any feelings associated with Viscount Lawrence were dangerous to explore.
"Are you cold?" he whispered, his brows knit with concern as he led her onto the polished floor.
Her eyes met his, and warmth curled low in her stomach. Enthralled by the icy blue depths, she was helpless to pull away. An inky strand of his hair pushed forward, and her fingers itched to smooth it back. She cleared her throat. "A bit, but I shall warm up during the dance. Do not trouble yourself."
She expected a quadrille and was surprised by the first strings of a waltz. "How interesting."
"What is?" he asked, taking her hand in his before placing the other on her waist.
She gulped. "A waltz. Surely it's not yet time for another."
"Oh. Well." He held her firmly, expertly guiding her through the first steps of the dance. "I asked them to play another."
She tripped, but he matched her steps so fluidly that no one noticed. "Why would you do that?"
"Because I wanted to speak with you. Other dances make that difficult. This is more private."
Her eyes widened. "You wish to speak with me privately?"
His eyes smiled into hers. "We're not exactly alone."
What did he want from her? As innocent as it seemed, his words and actions raised her guard.
"I thought it was time we should get to know one another."
"You did?" She coughed, hoping it would hide the skepticism.
"Yes. I fear I have not had the time to talk to you as I should. With the duke and your sister's marriage, I feel we should become friends."
"You do?" Sugar lumps! "Why now?"
A notch formed between his brows for a second before he smoothed it away with another smile. "He is one of my best friends, and you're his wife's sister."
"True," she hedged, but didn't exactly agree. If what he said was true, he would have done this long before. When Aubrey and Bradford had married. Not tonight.
"You have very fine gloves."
She inhaled sharply. "What?"
"I said your gloves are very nice. I know it isn't proper of me to comment on them, but I couldn't help myself."
"Thank you." She pulled away from him as much as his grasp would allow. His reminder of her gloves, why she'd received them, made her sick.
Is that what this was about? Had he somehow found out about her lost glove? About what she'd overheard?
"Forgive my impertinence, but could you tell me who made them? I need to purchase a pair for my sister now that she is so far from town, and I know she would love these."
The explanation rang false. Lady Victoria was more than capable of ordering her own things. Then again, with her recent marriage and move to rural Scotland, perhaps finding quality garments was a hardship.
Oh, why did she have to second-guess this? Why couldn't she just enjoy the feel the of his hand in hers, the way their bodies twirled as one as if they were meant to be together. Her skin hummed with an awareness that only he'd been able to arouse in her three years on the marriage mart, and yet she was ignoring all of it in an effort to paint him as someone sinister.
She offered him a genuine smile and pushed her fears to the side. "That is kind of you. Forgive me though, I do not know where these were purchased." Disappointment marred his face, and she felt ashamed at having doubted him. "The truth is, I spilled lemonade on my gloves earlier and was given these by a maid. If it is that important, I'm sure you could ask them where you might purchase a pair." She finished her explanation and glanced up to find hard eyes on her.
Breath clogged her lungs.
He doubted her.
* * *
Buying gloves for my sister, indeed. Derek choked on the lie. But what other explanation could he give? Fortunately, Lady Charlotte seemed to believe him.
He twirled them around the floor without thinking of the steps. His body tuned into hers, sifting through every nuance, judging, discarding information as quickly as she presented it. She was nervous tonight. More so than in the past, but that could be for any number of reasons. So far, her answers were sufficient enough for him to move onto the next lady.
He was relieved, actually. If his best friend's sister-in-law was the witness in this investigation, it could cause problems. And more problems were not something he wanted to deal with.
The music drew to a close with a poignant chord. "It's been a pleasure, Lady Charlotte. Shall I escort you back to your friends?" He inclined his head toward the group of bitty women she had been speaking with earlier.
"Thank you, no," she said too quickly, drawing a smile to his lips. "I'd like a refreshment before rejoining."
A blond curl caressed her neck as her head turned toward the table, and he had the most peculiar need to touch it. He refrained. Barely.
Now that Lady Charlotte had been crossed off his list, he needed to find the other two ladies who had replaced their gloves, quickly, before either took their leave.
"Allow me." He offered her his arm, and she accepted with a small smile that dimpled her cheek. How had he never noticed such an attractive quality?
What the hell was wrong with him? He needed to focus on his mission and not contemplate the charms of Lady Charlotte. Although, those charms were extensive, and the fact that he was only now noticing them spoke volumes about his state of mind the last few years.
If he hadn't already made the decision to retire from the War Office, he would have to consider ending his career. If he missed basic details of those around him, how was he expected to notice when something was amiss?
"Thank you, but you needn't stay with me," Lady Charlotte whispered to him.
His eyes glanced down to her, a brow cocked. "And I'm supposed to leave you all alone over here?"
"I don't mind. Truly. You seem preoccupied, and I don't wish to keep you if you need to leave."
He was losing his touch. Smoothing the surprise from his face, he smiled at her. "What else could I possibly have on my mind when I am in your company? Tell me, how is your sister doing? I heard congratulations are in order."
She flushed prettily, and damn if he couldn't look away. What would a few minutes more with Lady Charlotte hurt?
"Yes. They are both quite pleased that Aubrey is expecting a child. The duke says he would be happy whether they have a boy or girl, but I think he secretly wants a girl."