Cocky Earl - Annabelle Anders Page 0,54

answered. The scent of peaty, spicy alcohol met her nostrils and she nearly laughed out loud. Her dear Lord Westerley, it seemed, would not allow those lovely bottles they’d opened to go unappreciated.

Not my dear Lord Westerley, she chastised herself, Jules.

Her breath caught, and Charley tamped down these odd feelings when the person utmost in her mind joined them along with Lord Manningham-Tissinton and the Spencer brothers.

Of course, they would welcome the newly arrived ladies, who all seemed to have prior acquaintances with one another.

“Will you play for us?” the handsome blond Baron asked Felicity, who blushed and then traded places with Bethany.

Rachel Somerset had wound her hands around Julian’s arm and didn’t appear to be willing to relinquish it any time soon.

“Sit up straight. You’re slouching, Miss Jackson.” Mrs. Crabtree’s voice carried enough for everyone to hear.

Charley clamped her teeth together and straightened her spine. She’d grown tired of feeling embarrassed, of not being considered proper enough for present company.

“If you’ll excuse me, Miss Somerset.” Jules smoothly removed the young woman’s hand from his person with a polite nod.

Charley went to rise but Mrs. Crabtree’s hand gripped her arm with surprising strength, holding her back.

Jules glanced at the older woman and said, “If Mrs. Crabtree would be so kind as to collect your coat, I would be honored if you’d take a turn on the terrace with me, Miss Jackson.”

And as easy as that, the woman was gone.

“May I?” He indicated the seat vacated by her chaperone but then sat before Charley gave him permission. “You look stunning.”

Heat flushed up her neck and into her cheeks at his compliment. Just as everyone seated around them had heard Mrs. Crabtree’s admonishment to her, they also heard Julian’s compliment.

Felicity, who still sat on the bench at the piano beside Lord Mantis deciding what she would play, hopefully had not.

Everyone fell silent when the lovely young woman hovered her hands over the ivory keys spread out before her, then lowered them to begin playing a haunting tune in a seemingly effortless manner.

“Are you well rested, Miss Jackson?”

Charley inhaled sharply at the sensation of his breath whispering along her cheek and jaw.

Not wanting to be rude while Felicity performed, Charley nodded in response. A buzzing sensation filled her, and her breaths no longer filled her lungs.

What was the matter with her?

It was him.

Him and the memory of how badly she’d wanted him to kiss her.

Seated beside her, Julian took up considerably more space than Mrs. Crabtree had and although the music was flawless and melodic, it wasn’t capable of distracting Charley from the unnerving sensation of the length of Lord Westerley’s thighs skimming the length of her own. In a matter of seconds, her entire awareness became focused on his every move. The slight shifting of his arm and how it brushed the material of her gown. His deep and even breathing. Everything he did seemed to have some ulterior motive.

Which was positively ridiculous.

Any thoughts she’d had, opinions, or concerns, paled in significance as she did her best to maintain her composure.

She hadn’t felt this way when he’d walked with her that first morning outside, nor when he’d shown her the paintings of his ancestors.

Not to this extent, anyhow.

When applause erupted around them, Charley clapped belatedly realizing that she’d missed most of the performance.

“Ah, it seems that your shadow has returned.”

“My shadow?” Charley turned her head and found her face ridiculously close to his again. He shattered her equilibrium most effectively.

But this was a fake courtship, she reminded herself.

He wasn’t a fake gentleman, the other half of herself argued back. These feelings aren’t fake.

“Your cloak, Miss Jackson.” Mrs. Crabtree’s voice broke through the fog of awareness Charley had fallen into.

“Will you walk with me, Miss Jackson?”

Not trusting her voice, she nodded again. Perhaps all the scotch she’d drank earlier was having a delayed effect on her ability to speak.

“It is rather warm in here.” Rachel Somerset waved a fan below her chin. “How thoughtful of you to suggest it, my lord.”

Sounds of conversation buzzed around Charley as the other guests discussed the prospect of an evening stroll outdoors. When her cloak appeared before her, she thanked her chaperone and went to rise.

“I sent my sister to fetch ours. We’ll be ready shortly,” Rachel Somerset volunteered.

But of course, Jules had invited them all. Why had Charley thought he wanted to be alone with her again?

A few maids arrived with armfuls of winter coverups, and Bethany steered Felicity in Julian’s direction. It seemed his courtship