Carter stood on the sidelines, barely holding a conversation with Clancy since his attention was riveted on Miss Danvers. Every time Sterling spoke to her, she shook her head. It was apparent she was growing quite agitated.
“Excuse me,” Carter said, stepping away from Clancy. He walked up to Sterling and tapped him on the shoulder. “My turn, Sterling.”
The man looked surprised, then annoyed, but good manners had him stepping back. He gave a slight bow and Carter took his place. He looked over at Miss Danvers and winked. She smiled back and the dance continued.
He loved being a knight to her damsel in distress.
Carter, Lady Pamela, and Miss Danvers settled into his carriage and after he gave the signal, the driver left the front of the Assembly Rooms. Pleasant conversation continued among the three, but Carter was aware that Miss Danvers seemed out of sorts. He seemed to always be aware of her. He still wondered about her sad eyes.
Although he’d rescued her from Sterling, she had remained on guard for the rest of their time at the dance. Eventually, when she turned down another gentleman who wanted to dance with her, she asked Carter if they could depart, stating she had the beginning of a megrim. Lady Pamela seemed ready to leave also, so they made their way to the carriage.
They came to a rolling stop in front of Lady Pamela’s boarding house first and Carter escorted her to her door. She thanked him, and he was pleased to note she hardly stuttered at all. Perhaps she was becoming more comfortable with him and considered him a friend.
Once he returned to the carriage and the vehicle began to move, he took a deep breath and said, “Miss Danvers can you tell me why you were so upset with Lord Sterling?”
Her face immediately grew red. “I was not upset with Lord Sterling.”
“Yes. You were.” He offered her a soft smile, but his words were strong enough that she glanced out the window at the darkness rather than look at him. Taking a chance, he leaned forward, took her hands in his and tugged until she landed on the seat next to him.
“Mr. Westbrooke!” Although she attempted to look shocked, he saw a glimmer of humor in her eyes.
“Carter, if you will. Can I please persuade you to call me by my given name?” He held onto her hands to keep her from moving back across the space. She curled her fingers into a fist and her lips tightened.
He placed his knuckle under her chin and turned her face toward him. “You’ve given me the impression that you regard the nobility with disdain. Not just Lord Sterling, but all the lords and ladies. Particularly the lords.”
She shook her head and tried to remove her hands, but he wouldn’t let go.
“No. That is not true.” There was almost a sense of pleading in her tone. Whatever was it that disturbed her so. Had she been abused?
Just the thought of this beautiful sweet woman being misused by a man was enough to send him searching for the cad and beating him to a pulp.
Since he saw no point in arguing about the matter as it would only upset her further, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her body against his. “I hope that since we are friends you would share with me any difficulties you had with Lord Sterling. Did he say something to insult you?”
She edged away from him, and he loosened his grip. He did not want her to feel as though she had anything to fear from him.
It took him barely a few seconds to realize she was crying.
“Miss Danvers?”
“Yes.” She looked up at him, her eyes bright with tears. “That is me.” She switched from distress to anger. “At least I always thought that was me, but now I’m no longer sure.” She wiped the tears from her face, and once again the sadness
returned. “I’m no longer sure of anything.” She slowly shook her head.
He pushed a curl behind her ear that had become loose. “What is wrong, Lottie? Can I help?” Her name just slipped out. It was how he thought of her—and he thought of her a great deal—and for some reason, it appeared that right now her last name troubled her.
Ignoring his slip in addressing her, she said, “No one can help me.” She turned her face toward him, and he could not help himself. She was so beautiful in the soft light bathing her face from the lantern on the wall of the carriage. Her creamy cheeks were flushed, her eyelashes clumped with tears. He gently cupped her cheeks in his hands and lowered his head, covering her perfect lips with his.
Within seconds, he was sure he had reached heaven. She was all he had hoped she would be. Her lips were soft, warm, and moist. He nudged her mouth with his tongue expecting to be bitten, but instead she opened for him. He pulled her closer, so her soft breasts were pressed up against his coat. Carter cursed the clothing separating them, wanting to feel her warm skin next to his.
She tasted better than he’d imagined, and his imagination was quite strong. He shifted their bodies and slanted her head so he could go deeper with the kiss. Tentative at first, Lottie soon made her own exploration, tangling lightly with his tongue.
Her slight moans increased his desire, her enthusiasm delightful. Carter pulled back and looked her in the eyes. Her eyes were round—surprise or anger?—and she stared at his mouth, tempting him to taste her again.
Hoping to avoid a set-down, he said, “If what I just did upsets you, please let me know.”
He held his breath as she licked her lips and slowly shook her head as if not quite sure. “No. I don’t think so.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. A quick glance out the window told him they still had some time before they would arrive at her building. “Please understand that I will never let anyone hurt you. I know we haven’t known each other long, but you must admit there is something between us.”