Spinster Ever After (The Spinster Chronicles #7) - Rebecca Connolly Page 0,59
known to man, and the gown she wore blended white and blue together across her bodice and sleeves in a perfect impression of the sky itself. The heavens literally wrapping themselves around her.
He couldn’t look away.
“Miss Wright,” he said in a too-rough voice, dipping his chin in a nod.
Again, the cameo at her throat moved tremulously. “Mr. Sandford.” She cleared her throat, then smiled, although it looked a bit forced. “Do you know Mr. Riley?” She gestured to the man beside her, who had offered Michael the ratafia decanter first.
The man was certainly good-looking and had none of the airs the dandies of the day usually possessed. More than that, he was giving Michael a welcoming smile of introduction.
That called for politeness.
“I do not,” Michael admitted, returning the smile. “A pleasure.”
Mr. Riley nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
“This is Miss Palmer,” Michael said quickly, indicating her. “Miss Palmer, this is Mr. Riley, and Miss Wright.”
Diana nodded at each, then froze, her eyes fixed on Charlotte. “Miss Charlotte Wright?”
Charlotte’s brows rose, and she flicked her eyes to Michael before returning to Diana. “Yes…”
The gasp that escaped Diana startled Michael to such an extent that he jumped, but somehow, Charlotte and Mr. Riley maintained composure.
“I never thought I would get to meet you, Miss Wright!” Diana said in a voice higher than her natural one. “I’ve read every issue of the Spinster Chronicles from the very first edition. We get the London papers at our home in Derbyshire, and I adore every word. I find them extraordinary, and I cannot begin to tell you what an honor it is to sit across from you.”
If Michael could have left the table, he would have done so now. Stormed out of the room and never returned. Diana had heard of Charlotte, and was apparently an ardent admirer of her? What did Michael do to deserve this?
“You are too kind, Miss Palmer,” Charlotte murmured, a slight smile on her face.
Michael knew that smile. Charlotte was amused and uncomfortable at the same time, and her good nature would not let her make Diana feel that she had erred or misstepped in any way.
“What made you wish to write the Chronicles?” Diana demanded without shame. She turned to Michael, brow furrowing. “How do you know Miss Wright? Oh, you must move in the same circles in London, of course you do.”
“Actually,” Charlotte broke in, her voice gentle but firm, “Michael here is one of my oldest friends.”
Oh, gads, did they really have to do this?
Again came a gasp from Diana. “You are? Oh my goodness, how did you meet? Were you children?”
“We were, yes,” Michael said quickly, hoping they could end this painful interlude sooner rather than later. “I was seven or eight, wandering the edges of my family estate, and Charlotte was swinging on the branches of a large weeping willow on her family’s pond.”
“Were you really?” Mr. Riley asked Charlotte, laughing as he looked at her. “Why does that not surprise me?”
So Mr. Riley already knew Charlotte well enough to know how unconventional and daring she could be when she wished.
Marvelous.
“I was,” Charlotte conceded as she looked at Michael quickly before dipping her spoon into the white soup. “It seemed a rather good natural rope to swing on to me.”
Diana and Mr. Riley laughed, while Michael only smiled, though the smile pained him. “I believe I asked what she was doing,” he told them, “and she said something of the sort, then insisted I try.”
“And how did you fare?” Mr. Riley inquired, still grinning.
“At first, well enough.” Michael poured himself a glass of Madeira, focusing there rather than on any of the people near him. “She took another turn, and then I did, and then…” He paused, looking up at Charlotte.
She picked up the story at once. “And then I dared him to go further, which Michael did, only to lose his grip and fall directly into the pond.”
Mr. Riley laughed while Diana gasped and giggled. Charlotte smiled, though she glanced at Michael repeatedly.
He forced his mouth to relax into a set smile that took minimal effort to maintain. “The pond was not deep, and I could swim well. I believe our adventure ended there, and we both went home, planning to meet again another day.”
And Michael had started falling in love with Charlotte from then on.
But that part would remain unsaid.
“And meet again we did,” Charlotte went on. “We got into all kinds of scrapes, sometimes bringing my brother along. One of Michael’s sisters may never