Page 10 of A Baron’s Most Inconvenient Marriage (Delightful Lords and Ladies)

Chapter 10

“Surely you cannot be serious about this,” Sebastian said, staring at the brightly colored handbill Charlotte had thrust into his hands.

The paper, garish and bold, advertised a spectacle in letters that seemed to leap right off the page with the same unmuted energy as its subject matter. “A circus?”

“Not just any circus,” Charlotte’s eyes sparkled with that particular gleam that he was learning to both dread and anticipate. “I hear Mr. Ashley has apparently trained his horses to perform the most extraordinary feats. Think of it, my lord—the precise control required to achieve such harmonious movement between man and beast!”

They sat in the Fairfax’s morning room, where the early morning light painted patterns across Charlotte’s face like an artist experimenting with shadow and illumination. Her brown hair, as usual, had begun to escape its pins, creating a soft halo that seemed to capture and reflect the room’s warmth.

“I am not disputing the technical merit,” Sebastian admitted, though his fingers tightened on the paper as if it might somehow contaminate his carefully ordered existence. “But surely there are more… appropriate entertainments for a baron and his intended?”

“More appropriate, certainly. But more interesting? I doubt that to be possible.”

Charlotte leaned forward, her blue eyes alight with challenge. “When was the last time you saw something truly inspiring? Something that made you forget about ledgers and proper behavior, and filled you with just… wonder?”

Sebastian found his gaze caught by the curve of her smile, the way her enthusiasm seemed to radiate from her like heat from a forge. It was, he had to admit, becoming increasingly difficult to maintain his usual composure when in her presence.

“I find plenty to wonder at in more conventional settings, I assure you,” he said, striving for his normal pragmatism. “The opera for instance—”

“Oh, please, not the opera again!” Charlotte flopped back in her chair with decidedly improper grace. “Four hours of watching people sing about dying while taking an extraordinarily long time to actually do so? I would much rather watch paint dry on one of my canvases.”

“It is about artistry,” Sebastian protested, though he could not quite suppress his amusement at her description. “There is precision in the music—the way each and every note and movement contribute to a greater whole—”

“You mean like Mr. Ashley’s horses?” Charlotte’s quick mind seized the comparison. “Each movement precisely timed, each performer contributing to a greater spectacle?”

“That is hardly—”

“The only difference,” she pressed on, “is that one performance takes place in a gilded theater while the other occurs in a sawdust ring. Tell me, my lord, when did the setting of excellence become more important than the display of excellence itself?”

Sebastian found himself momentarily struck silent by the unexpected depth of her argument. This was what continually surprised him about Charlotte Fairfax—the way her seemingly impulsive thoughts often contained surprisingly profound observations.

“You are rather dangerous when you choose to apply logic to your arguments,” he said finally.

“That is only because you expect me to be illogical.” Charlotte’s tone held no rancor, only a kind of awareness that—to his utter surprise—made his pulse quicken. “Just as society expects a baron to attend only the most refined entertainments, regardless of where true artistry might be found.”

James, who had been maintaining his chaperone duties with admirable discretion from his position by the window, cleared his throat.

“I would hate to interrupt this fascinating debate about the relative merits of high and low culture, but perhaps we might settle on an entertainment you both deem acceptable?”

“The museum?” Sebastian suggested, grasping at a compromise. “I believe they have just opened a new exhibition of Roman artifacts.”

Charlotte’s face lit up with genuine interest. “The ones they discovered in Yorkshire? I read about those! Apparently, they found evidence of advanced engineering in the aqueduct system that challenges our current understanding of…”

She broke off, a becoming flush coloring her cheeks as both men stared blankly at her. “That is to say… yes, I think the museum would be lovely, thank you, my lord.”

Sebastian felt something warm unfurl in his chest at her obvious enthusiasm for the subject. “You have been following the excavation reports?”

“Father receives the archaeological society’s papers,” Charlotte admitted. “I might have occasionally borrowed them from his study… when I am not busy being a proper young lady, of course.”

The teasing lilt in her voice made Sebastian want to reach for her hand, propriety be damned. Instead, he found himself saying, “Perhaps we might compare notes on the hydraulic systems they have uncovered. I have several theories about how they managed the gradient calculations and—”

“Here we go again,” James sighed. “I do not suppose either of you would prefer a nice, simple walk in the park? One that does not involve discussions of engineering or death-defying circus acts?”

But Sebastian hardly heard him. He was too caught up in the way Charlotte’s entire being seemed to illuminate with intellectual excitement.

It struck him suddenly that while he had been worrying about their different approaches to life, he had somehow missed their rather significant common ground. He suddenly found himself wondering if he could learn to balance his need for order with her gift for finding wonder in chaos?

Later, as they strolled through the museum, Sebastian found himself watching Charlotte with unusual attention.

“The engineering principles are remarkable,” Charlotte whispered, her face alight with fascination as she studied the detailed diagrams of Roman aqueducts. “Look at how they calculated the precise water flow using nothing but gravity and precise mathematics. Isn’t that wonderful!”

Sebastian found himself watching her profile instead of the exhibition. The museum’s diffused light caught the subtle variations in her brown hair—rich mahogany where the sun touched it, deeper chocolate where it curved behind her ear.

Her fingers traced the air above the diagrams as if she could feel the water’s flow through pure imagination.

“You see how they integrated the natural landscape?” He asked, taking the opportunity to step closer than propriety strictly allowed. “They way they worked with the terrain rather than attempting to force their own order upon it?”

“Rather like life itself, is it not?” Charlotte mused, then glanced up at him with that same direct gaze that never failed to make his pulse skip an entire beat. “Sometimes the best solutions come from adapting to chaos, rather than trying to control it entirely.”

James, maintaining his chaperone duties with admirable subtlety, coughed softly from behind his spectacles as he hovered by a nearby statue. Sebastian stepped back to a more appropriate distance, though the moment felt like lightning against an invisible current.

“I prefer solutions that can be properly calculated,” he said, straightening his cuffs. “Chaos tend to produce unexpected results.”

“Like me?” Charlotte’s lips curved with gentle mockery. “I am sure your carefully ordered life never predicted spending a morning discussing hydraulic engineering with the Fairfax brother’s wild little sister.”

“You do seem to have an uncanny habit of disrupting my schedules,” Sebastian admitted, his voice dropping lower despite himself. “Just yesterday, I was forced to completely reorganize my afternoon, because someone insisted that we investigate rumors of a secret Roman wall beneath the new coffee house.”

“And did we not find the most fascinating ancient masonry?” Charlotte’s eyes sparkled. “Besides, you were the one who spent an hour examining the construction techniques. I merely wanted to see if they served decent tea.” Her voice was sweet, coy, and utterly enchanting.

“Which they didn’t.”

“No, they did not. But the adventure was worth it, was it not?” She turned to face him fully, her expression challenging and—he noticed with a shock—vulnerable all at once. “Admit it, my lord—sometimes the best discoveries come from straying off your carefully plotted path.”

Sebastian studied her face, noting the faint freckles that gently spattered across her nose. Obviously, her mother’s careful ministrations with lotions had failed to erase their beauty.

They spoke of time spent outdoors, of a life lived in defiance of society’s constraints. He found them utterly captivating. His mouth suddenly felt dry.

“I am… learning to appreciate unexpected detours,” he said carefully.

“Ah, such high praise from a man who schedules his daily rides to the precise minute.” Charlotte moved to examine another display, but her words carried back to him. “Though, I haven’t failed to notice you have become somewhat more flexible about timing lately.”

“A necessary adaptation when dealing with someone who believes appointment times are merely gentle suggestions .”

“Life rarely consults one’s schedule before presenting opportunities,” Charlotte countered, pausing before a collection of Roman jewelry.

“These pieces for instance—each one represents a moment when craft and inspiration merged to create something unique. Do you think the artisans planned every detail, or did they allow their materials to guide them?”

Sebastian joined her at the display, aware of James discreetly repositioning himself to maintain proper supervision while allowing them some privacy. The jewelry glinted in its case, each piece a testament to both precision and artistic freedom.

“Perhaps,” he said slowly, “the best results come from balancing both approaches. Structure providing the foundation for creativity to flourish.”

“Like a garden trellis supporting wild roses?” Charlotte’s voice held a note he couldn’t quite interpret. “The rigid framework allowing for natural growth?”

“Exactly.” Sebastian found himself drawn to a particular piece—a delicate silver bracelet where geometric patterns flowed into organic forms. “Though, I suspect the roses occasionally overwhelm their support entirely.”

“Only if the trellis is too rigid to adapt.” Charlotte’s fingers twisted together, a rare sign of nervous energy. “Sebastian…”

“Yes?” He forced the words out as the sound of his christian name tumbling from her lips almost undid him entirely.

“Do you ever regret agreeing to this arrangement? Our courtship has hardly provided the peace and order you sought.”

The question caught him off guard, though perhaps it shouldn’t have. Charlotte’s perceptiveness was as much a part of her as her tendency toward chaos.

“I find,” he said carefully, “that my definition of peace has undergone some revision lately.”

“Has it?”

“Indeed.” Sebastian turned to face her, propriety be damned. “I am beginning to suspect that true peace is not found in perfect order, but in finding harmony between different facets of life.”

Charlotte’s breath caught audibly. “That is quite a philosophical evolution for a man who color-codes his library catalog.”

“Perhaps I have had a particularly effective teacher in the value of spontaneity.” The words emerged softer than intended, laden with meaning neither of them was quite ready to acknowledge.

James’s footsteps approached with deliberate warning. “I hate to interrupt this fascinating discussion of Roman artifacts, but perhaps we should consider returning? Mother will be expecting us for lunch soon.”

Charlotte stepped back, the spell broken. “Of course. Though I don’t suppose we could take a small detour past that fascinating excavation site we passed earlier?”

“Charlotte,” Sebastian tried to sound stern, but the warmth in his voice betrayed him.

“Just a quick look?” Her smile held all the dangerous charm of a siren’s song. “I promise to have you home in time to reorganize your schedule for the rest of the day.”

And despite himself, despite every carefully cultivated habit of order and precision, Sebastian found himself smiling back. “Lead on then, Miss Fairfax. But do try to keep the chaos to a minimum?”

“Now where would be the fun in that?”

The ‘quick look’ at the excavation site proved anything but brief. Sebastian watched with mixed exasperation and admiration as Charlotte charmed the foreman into giving them an impromptu tour, her genuine enthusiasm for the discovery breaking down barriers of class and propriety as easily as water wearing stone away.

“Look at these tool marks,” she exclaimed, kneeling in the dirt despite James’s poorly concealed horror.

Her seafoam dress would likely never recover, but her eyes shone with such delight that Sebastian couldn’t bring himself to object. “You can see exactly how they shaped the stone to create perfect seams.”

“Charlotte,” Sebastian said, noting the darkening sky with growing concern. “Perhaps we should—”

“Just one moment more,” she pleaded, already moving deeper into excavation. “Mr. Thompson says they’ve uncovered what might be a temple foundation. Imagine what that could tell us about early Roman religious practices in Britain!"

“It could tell us tomorrow,” Sebastian muttered, but found himself following her regardless. The site foreman had produced a lamp, its glow casting dramatic shadows across the ancient stonework. “Your mother will be frantic.”

“Oh, she is used to my archeological enthusiasms by now.” Charlotte traced a carved pattern with careful fingers. “Besides, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. These stones have not seen daylight in centuries!”

“And they will still not have seen it tomorrow.” Sebastian pointed out, his ordered mind rebelling against this complete disruption of their schedule. “When we could properly visit, with appropriate permissions, and—”

A loud crack interrupted him, followed by an ominous rumble. Charlotte looked up, her eyes widening as loose earth began shifting above them.

“Out!” Sebastian grabbed her arm, yanking her back just as a section of the excavation wall collapsed. They stumbled backwards, Sebastian turning to shield her from the falling debris. For one terrifying moment, the entire world narrowed down to the feel of Charlotte pressed against his chest, the thundering of his heart drowning out even the sound of falling earth.

When the dust settled, they found themselves in an awkward tangle of limbs, closer than propriety would ever allow.

Sebastian became acutely aware of every point of contact—Charlotte’s hand gripping his coat, her breath warm against his neck, the wild beating of her heart matching his own.

“Are you hurt?” He demanded, his voice rough with fear and something else entirely.

“No, I—” Charlotte began, then broke off as she registered their position. A rather becoming flush spread across her cheeks, visible even in the lantern’s dim light. “That is… I am quite well.”

“Thank God, you are all right!” James’s voice broke through the tension as he scrambled down to them, the foreman close behind. “Though I daresay this little adventure will provide gossip for the better half of London!”

Reality crashed back with the force of another landslide. Sebastian helped Charlotte to her feet, noting with dismay the state of both their clothing.

Her dress was certainly ruined, his coat covered in dirt and God only knew what else. They looked like they had been rolling in a garden rather than maintaining the proper distance of a courting couple.

“I am so sorry,” Charlotte said softly as they made their way back to street level. “I never meant…”

“To nearly get us both killed in pursuit of historical knowledge?” Sebastian couldn’t quite keep the edge from his voice. “To completely and utterly disregard every sensible precaution? To—”

“To disrupt your perfectly ordered world?” Charlotte’s chin lifted, though he could see the hurt beneath her defiance. “To remind you that I am not the sort of lady who always does what is expected?”

“That is not—”

“It is.” She brushed futilely at her ruined skirts. “I forget appointments, I chase impulses, I ruin perfectly good dresses in pursuit of what interests me. I am everything a baron’s wife should not be.”

“Charlotte—”

“Perhaps we need to end this,” she continued, her voice catching slightly.

“Who would believe that a baron is courting such a disastrous young woman out of true intentions. Your mother knows you need someone more… controlled. Someone who understands the importance of proper behavior and scheduled activities and—”

“Stop.” Sebastian caught her hand, propriety be damned. “Yes, you drive me to distraction with your impulsiveness. Yes, you completely disregard my carefully laid plans. And yes, you have just shortened my life by several years with that little stunt.”

Charlotte tried to pull away, but he held firm.

“But,” he continued, his voice dropping lower. “You also show me wonders I would never have discovered on my own. You make me question assumptions I didn’t even know I had. You bring life and light into every dusty corner of my existence.”

Their eyes met in the gathering dusk, the moment holding fast like the hesitant first step of a waltz neither dared to lead. Then, James cleared his throat pointedly.

“Fascinating as this discussion is,” he said, “perhaps we should focus on how to explain your current state to Mother without causing her to have an apoplexy?”

Reality intruded once more. They were standing in the street, covered in dirt, having just escaped a potentially serious accident. Already, Sebastian could see curious onlookers gathering, drawn by the commotion at the excavation sight.

“Your mother is going to ban me from the house,” Sebastian muttered as they hurried toward their waiting carriage.

“Probably,” Charlotte agreed, though a ghost of her usual smile had returned. “Though I maintain that the discovery was worth it.”

“Worth possible death by Roman ruin?”

“Worth seeing the impeccable Lord Blackthorn completely disheveled.” Her eyes sparkled with returning mischief. “I don’t suppose this will convince you to reconsider the circus? It might be safer than my treasure hunts.”

Sebastian helped her into the carriage, acutely aware of both her teasing and the growing crowd of spectators. “We’ll discuss that after I have recovered from this near-death experience.”

But as they drove away, he found himself acutely aware of just how much fun he had been having with Charlotte, in between their library sessions discussing the estate.

He couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps the greater danger lay not in Charlotte’s chaos, but in his growing addiction to it. The real question was: could a man built for order survive falling in love with the embodiment of beautiful disorder?