Cocky Earl - Annabelle Anders Page 0,26
one?”
“Bethany tells me that your grandparents have lined up a particularly tedious schedule of lessons for you.”
The reminder stole any anticipation she’d felt to hear what he had to say and her heart sort of just… dropped. Nonetheless, she nodded.
What scheme was he cooking up now? He might be honorable, almost to a fault, but she suspected he was not disinclined to participate in subterfuge when it benefited him in some way. And the mere fact that this made sense to her proved yet again that she needed to take everything he said with a grain of salt.
“And why would my decorum lessons concern you?”
“Am I correct in assuming you find my sisters to be pleasant company?”
“I like them, yes.”
“And also, that you find their brother to be pleasant company as well?”
The man’s confidence knew no bounds. “Tolerable.” She bit back a grin when he raised his brows in disbelief.
“I will take these lessons as an opportunity to court you.”
Oh, good lord. She laughed at his audacity but was beginning to understand. “And when I return to my grandmother’s house, the lessons will no longer be necessary.”
“Indeed. And as your betrothed, I will vouch for your newfound talents.”
“Ha!” Charley couldn’t help herself.
“You must concede it sounds more enjoyable than endless lessons in Thornton House with Lady Thornton supervising.”
He’d obviously met her grandmother.
“I’m not certain your sisters would agree. They have no need of such instructions.” Likely they’d be bored to tears.
“This will accomplish three objectives and I’ve come to realize you hold efficiency in high regard.” He dropped a slow wink but then continued right on, oblivious that he’d sent an unfamiliar tingling through her. “If my sisters are concerned with managing your instructions, Tabetha will have less opportunity to get herself into mischief and at the same time we ensure the ton isn’t injured by any of your American ways. They are delicate flowers, you must understand. Heaven forbid a lady speak with intelligence.”
Secretly delighted that he considered her intelligent, she almost laughed again before reminding herself that everything he said was perfectly calculated to win her over. And not because he was attracted to her, but because he needed to uphold his blasted honor.
Even so, he certainly was laying it on thick. “And?” She narrowed her eyes at him.
He tilted his head in question.
“You mentioned three objectives.”
“Ah.” He waggled his brows.
Charley pinched back another smile.
“And?”
“It will move our courtship forward.”
“You certainly are persistent.” Which was precisely why his idea was not a good one, and yet… she couldn’t completely resist his suggestion. “I will think about it.”
Lord Westerley escorted her back to the drawing room, where she immediately excused herself. His company was… potent and she had already spent more time than she ought with him. Even so, as the afternoon turned to evening, she found herself unable to focus on anything else—until, that was, the performance began.
Sitting between Tabetha and Felicity on polished chairs that had been set out in lines, Charley peered up at the chandeliers that glowed above and allowed the notes to wash over her. A quartet of stringed instruments seemed to dance around the room, literally bringing it to life.
These musicians were nothing like the country learned fiddlers she’d listened to while growing up. Dressed to the nines, the four gentlemen didn’t miss a note. In fact, they played their instruments in much the manner as most people drew breath.
Smooth when it should be smooth, soft and then loud and all in perfect synchronicity. She even closed her eyes and became so transfixed by the music that she was jolted back to her surroundings when the guests around her broke into a round of applause.
A hand tapped her shoulder. “May I procure a drink for you, Miss Jackson?” Baron Chaswick’s pale blue gaze took her somewhat off guard. She’d heard the other gentlemen address him by the unusual name of Chase.
She hadn’t even realized that these particular gentlemen had taken their seats behind her. Lord Westerley on one side, watching her with not quite a half smile and another, the man with the facial scar who reminded her of a sort of gentle giant, next to him—the viscount.
But for Lord Westerley, she had difficulty keeping them straight. Although, their numbers had decreased, she noticed, the duke fellow being notably absent.
“That would be lovely, Lord Chaswick,” Tabetha answered for her. “And Westerley, I believe Lady Felicity would appreciate a refreshment as well.”
Charley watched as Lord Westerley turned a kind disposition toward the lovely blonde