Cocky Earl - Annabelle Anders Page 0,27

lady seated on Charley’s opposite side. “Your wishes are our commands. You too, Beth?” He raised his brows in Bethany’s direction as both he and Lord Chaswick rose and edged their way out from between the chairs.

The trouble with someone like Lord Westerley was that he was so good at being kind and charming that a lady could quite easily believe he was flirting with her.

“Every time I listen to your brother, I am more impressed with his playing,” Bethany addressed Mr. Spencer.

“Your brother is one of the musicians?” Ah yes, the second Mr. Spencer was the other missing gentleman. Charley glanced over at the dais. She had been so delighted by their playing that she hadn’t recognized the actual players. In as much as she’d expected to find fault with most of what she experienced in this country, certain aspects of it were making it rather difficult.

Almost impossible.

“Peter plays the cello,” Mr. Spencer answered proudly.

Charley glanced back toward the stage. “I should have recognized him before,” she admitted ruefully.

“There are four Spencer sons in all.” Tabetha grinned. “But the heir is married.”

“As is my youngest brother Joseph, and my sister.”

Charley wondered what it would be like to belong to such a large family. “Your brother is amazing. I’ve never heard anything as beautiful.”

“He refused to play in public for a very long time. It was our sister-in-law who convinced him.”

“Lady Darlington,” Tabetha supplied and then lowered her voice. “She was once a maid!”

Bethany glared at Tabetha and Felicity changed the subject diplomatically. “We are lucky to be the beneficiaries of Lady Darlington’s persuasive abilities.” It was obvious why Lord Westerley’s family would want him to marry her. Likely, she’d make for an excellent countess.

“Did you ladies miss me?” Chaswick asked as he stepped sideways, returning to lower himself into the chair Lord Westerley had vacated. As Westerley held out a glass of lemonade toward Charley and Tabetha, the charming baron placed the drinks he carried into Bethany and Felicity’s hands.

“Such a shame a family can’t have more than one heir.” Tabetha giggled into her drink, earning a scowl from her brother.

“Thank you.” Charley accepted the glass and raised it to her lips.

“I cannot help thinking these beverages would be greatly improved upon if only Miss Jackson was willing to supply us with some of her father’s whiskey,” Mr. Spencer commented with a wink. “As it is, we’ll have to settle for the Scottish version.” He removed a flask from inside his coat and toasted it in her direction.

“Miss Jackson’s version is sweeter.” Westerley sent her a wink as he stepped sideways into the row of chairs.

“It is just something I’m trying.” Charley clarified. “Our primary product is dry.”

“Surely you don’t drink the whiskey yourself?” Felicity asked.

“But she would have to,” Bethany explained. “She assists in making it.”

And in that moment, Charley felt everyone’s gaze on her. She sipped some lemonade and hoped it would cool the flush creeping into her cheeks. Being the center of attention was not a circumstance she ever aspired to or even partly enjoyed.

The leader of the quartet chose that moment to instruct the players to lift their bows to their strings, and Charley could hardly have felt more grateful. Just as she turned around to watch the musicians once again, a warm hand landed on her shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. She didn’t have to look back to know who it was.

Lord Westerley.

Her heart slowed, and she was able to enjoy the music once again. Only this time, she didn’t lose herself so completely.

Knowing Lord Westerley was seated behind her was more of a distraction than she’d like to admit. She couldn’t help but compare the sensation to how she’d felt around Nash.

Nash had left her feeling unsettled as well. She’d known she wasn’t as pretty as the other ladies in their circles back home and had often felt uncertain and on edge.

Lord Westerley sent unsettling feelings through her but of an entirely different nature. Did this mean that she was safe from him? He was a flirt of the worst kind but seemingly with the kindest of intentions.

Was it possible that she could agree to his suggestion with the understanding that she could only ever be his friend? Because despite the wager he’d made with her father, she could not marry him. They lived, quite literally, in different worlds.

Chapter 8

SPEAKING OF BAD LUCK

“You’ll never make it.” Chase folded his arms across his chest as Jules bent over the billiards table. “It’s an