individual courtships could not stand, and had not done so.
Still, it was difficult to keep from reveling in the feeling of victory that swirled about his head. He wanted to give her a signal, some hint that he knew what she was trying to do but wasn’t going to carve out a time for her to do it.
Oh, why not?
He flicked a devious smile at her, and saw her jaw slacken as she gaped. He would be in for it now.
He could not wait.
Whatever game Michael was playing, she needed to end it, and end it now.
If she didn’t love the man to bloody distraction, she might have given up by this point, thinking that each interruption to her attempts might be a sign she should not do so. She might have eventually considered going back to Jonathan and telling him that she had been premature in ending his expectations. That conversation had been simple enough, rather uncomplicated, all things considered, and had actually felt like a relief to have over.
They might not have been as compatible as she had hoped at the start, and certainly weren’t as compatible as she and Michael would have been, but that wasn’t insurmountable. She could go back to that simplicity.
If she wasn’t desperate to tell Michael how she loved him, she might have even thought that today, had he not smirked like that.
But now, she had none of those thoughts. Blasted brute was intentionally drawing this out for her, and he was enjoying every moment. Did that mean he knew she loved him? Did that mean he still loved her? The possibilities were many, and her options were few.
She was not one to give up, but there was only so much she could take. The only thing she really wished to do at this moment was disappoint Michael’s game, whatever it was. The trouble was that disappointing his game would also be disappointing the thing she wanted most, and she had never been particularly good at sacrificing her own wishes.
Downing her present glass of lemonade, she turned to face the nearest hedge and growled in frustration in as muted a way as she could while still being true to her feelings.
It was an odd, strained sort of sound, and her face buzzed because of it.
She rubbed at her cheek, frowning. “Hopeless,” she hissed.
“Likely, but I wouldn’t give up just yet.”
Unaware she had been heard, Charlotte turned in surprise to see Hugh Sterling standing beside the same hedge, peering into his glass with what appeared to be a passing interest.
“Oh no?” she asked, not taking care to temper her tone. “Why not?”
“Because the man is beyond besotted still, and he won’t be happy with anyone else.” He shrugged and sipped his drink, not looking at her. “Up to you, though.”
Charlotte blinked at his words, feeling as though her mind were skipping rocks. “He… you… he loves me?”
Hugh glanced at her slyly and nodded. “Oh, yes. He made a valiant effort not to, I’ll grant him that, but it was no use.”
She could barely swallow for the pressure of joy filling her. “Are you sure?” she whispered.
“Quite.” He turned to face her, leaning his shoulder against the hedge and meeting her eyes head on. “I’ve seen the difference, Charlotte. He’s yours, if you’ll take him.”
A breathless laugh galloped from her chest, and she grinned wildly, then tilted her head as she considered the man before her. “I don’t think you’re the devil incarnate after all, Hugh Sterling. What a pleasant surprise.”
His smile was warm and attractive, which she would never have suspected of him. “Does that mean you think my wife has made a good match?”
Charlotte gave the man a dubious look. “Don’t push your luck.”
“Fair enough.” He toasted her and pointed towards the house. “Off you go, then.”
She winked and dashed off to the house like a shot, not caring if any of the guests or her family saw her do so. Ladylike behavior be damned, her family’s reputation be tossed.
Charlotte Wright was getting the man she loved, and she was getting him now.
“Michael!” she bellowed as soon as she entered the house, slowing to a brisk walk, her strides determined. “Michael, you show yourself this minute, or else…”
“What?” he prodded, ambling towards her from the direction of the kitchen. “Or else what?”
It was a strange sensation, her heart sinking and soaring at the same time. Her irritation with him mingling with her longing for him. Her ire mingling with her affection.
What a tumultuous