Free Gentleman of Her Dreams by Jen Turano Page B

jumped up from her chair and dashed behind the long curtain just as the door opened and two ladies walked in, both of them nodding to Charlotte as they eyed her somewhat warily.
    “Were you talking to someone just now?” one of the ladies asked.
    Charlotte summoned up a smile. “I have the horrible habit of speaking to myself.”
    That cleared the room in less than a minute.
    “Good one,” Agatha said, “but it reminded me that I have to go back upstairs. Would you do me a favor? If you see Miss Eliza Sumner, a strangely dressed lady with a wonderful English accent, tell her I’m really, really sorry, and I promise to make it up to her, would you?”
    “Miss Sumner is the woman your mother made take your place?”
    “Unfortunately, yes. She’s Lily and Grace’s governess, and I’m afraid she’ll never forgive me for this, but I’m hopeful that her dinner companion will . . .”
    As Agatha’s voice trailed off, she smiled at Charlotte and abruptly changed the subject. “Getting back to your Mr. St. James, I seem to remember the two of you being together quite often, and I must say that you might be mistaken regarding his affections. What if the two of you have suffered a grave misunderstanding, and he actually cares as much about you as you do about him?”
    Charlotte was about to argue, but the door began opening which caused Agatha to close the curtains with a snap. When the lady who’d entered finally left, Charlotte opened the curtains only to find that Agatha had made her escape through the window.
    Knowing she couldn’t delay the inevitable, she left the retiring room and stood on the edge of the crowd for a moment as she tried to locate Henry.
    He wasn’t hard to find.
    No, there he was, surrounded by the beauties of New York City, a brunette on one side and a raven-haired lovely on his other.
    She’d always longed to be a raven-haired lovely.
    Brushing that absurd thought away, she began walking toward him, but then remembered what Agatha had said about giving him tit for tat. She straightened her spine, pasted a smile on her lips, and moved to a group of gentlemen who, surprisingly enough, were watching her approach.
    “Good evening, gentlemen,” she said.
    “Miss Wilson, so good to see you,” a gentleman by the name of Mr. Murdock said.
    “You’re too kind, Mr. Murdock. How is that lovely sister of yours?”
    “Felicia’s well, thank you for asking. She’s been spending her time at the church, helping Reverend Fraser see to the needy.”
    “How lovely, do give her my warmest regards,” Charlotte purred, unable to help but grin when Mr. Murdock blinked and then moved ever so slowly closer to her. He was just reaching out his hand as if to take her by the arm, when a different hand suddenly took a firm hold on her. She found herself yanked away from the group of gentlemen before she could get a single squeak of protest out of her mouth. Henry pulled her rapidly beside him until she finally had the presence of mind to dig in her heels and come to a stop.
    “What is the matter with you?” she hissed. “Those gentlemen must think you’ve taken leave of your senses.”
    “I thought your objective was to land Mr. Beckett, not every gentleman in New York,” Henry hissed right back at her.
    Oh . . . dear. He was furious.
    It seemed to her as if he was overreacting just a tad too much, and why would he even care if she was flirting since he’d just brought Hamilton Beckett back into the conversation?
    She needed some time to dwell on everything, and she certainly couldn’t dwell to satisfaction with Henry glaring at her. She raised her chin. “I’m going to go and find my seat.”
    For some odd reason, Henry smiled even as he gestured with his head. “I’ve already located your place card. You’re sitting at the very end of the table next to those older gentlemen.”
    Wonderful, she would not have to suffer his unpleasant mood throughout dinner. She directed her attention to