Page 7 of A Baron’s Most Inconvenient Marriage (Delightful Lords and Ladies)
Chapter 7
“I do believe Lady Harker just swallowed her handkerchief whole,” William observed, guiding his horse alongside Sebastian’s as they waited at the park entrance. “Though whether from shock or delight remains to be seen.”
Sebastian followed his friend’s gaze to where several morning walkers had gathered, their expressions ranging from scandalized interest to barely concealed glee.
News of his intended morning ride with Charlotte had clearly spread through London’s social circles with the speed of a wildfire in drought.
“Perhaps we should have mentioned it in the Times,” Sebastian muttered. “That would have saved the ton the effort of speculation.” He ground slightly on his teeth.
“And deprive them of their morning’s entertainment? I dare say nothing would accomplish that, old friend.” William’s grin faded as he spotted something over Sebastian’s shoulder. “Ah. Speaking of entertainment…”
Sebastian turned to see Charlotte approaching on horseback, and for a moment, he forgot entirely about their audience.
She sat atop her mare with the easy grace of someone who had grown up in the saddle, her dark plum riding habit setting off the flush of excitement in her cheeks.
Her hair, while properly pinned beneath her hat, already showed signs of rebellion, with tiny curls escaping around her temples like wildlings seeking freedom.
“Good morning, my lord,” she greeted him as her eyes danced with barely suppressed mischief. “I trust I haven’t kept you waiting too long?”
“Not at all,” Sebastian said as he guided Tenebris closer, noting how her mare’s ears pricked forward with interest as his stallion approached. “Though, I must say, you seem to have drawn quite a crowd for such an early ride.”
“Have I?” Charlotte made a show of looking around, her expression all wide-eyed innocence. “How peculiar. One would almost think they had never witnessed three people riding in the park before.”
“I believe it is the particular combination of riders that interests them, sister,” William said dryly. “That, paired with the fact that Sebastian’s mother was seen having what might be described as ‘strong words’ with her social secretary a mere hour ago.”
Charlotte’s smile dimmed slightly. “Ah. Another dinner party, perhaps?”
“Let us not discuss my mother’s social calendar,” Sebastian said quickly, shooting William a warning look. “I believe you mentioned wanting to see the new flower gardens they had planted near the serpentine, Miss Fairfax.”
The trio set off down the path, their horses’ hooves striking a steady rhythm against the packed earth. The morning air carried the fresh scents of grass and blooming flowers, while early sunlight painted everything in warm, clear strokes.
Sebastian found himself watching Charlotte’s profile, enjoying the way she seemed to drink in every detail of their surroundings with genuine delight.
“Look there,” she said suddenly, pointing toward a cluster of early roses. “Are they not exactly the shade of Lady Cavendish’s horrid punch? Perhaps we should warn our audience of their intoxicating effects.”
Sebastian couldn’t help but laugh, earning him several startled looks from passing riders. “I do not believe I have ever heard anyone compare roses to punch before.”
“Then you have clearly been speaking with the wrong people,” Charlotte replied. “Everything in nature has its equivalent in society, if you dare to look closely enough. Take those willows, for instance, they remind me rather strongly of Madame Celestine Du Plessis at her last ball—all elegant drooping and artistic melancholy.
“Charlotte,” William warned, though his voice held more amusement than censure.
“What? I am merely making botanical observations. Surely that is allowed during a proper morning ride?”
The sparkle in her eyes made something turn over within Sebastian’s chest—something that had nothing to do with their arrangement and everything to do with the way the morning light caught the dimples on her cheeks as she smiled.
“And what plant would you compare yourself to, Miss Fairfax?”
Charlotte considered this, her head tilting in that characteristic way that he had always found endearing, but now it made his pulse quicken.
“Oh, something thoroughly inappropriate and difficult to cultivate, I am sure. A wild rose perhaps, or one of those stubborn herbs that insist on growing wherever they please rather than their assigned beds.”
“Giving gardeners fits and the botanists inspiration,” Sebastian murmured, then wondered if he had said too much when her eyes met his with sudden intensity.
The moment stretched between them like honey dripping from a spoon—sweet, golden, and somehow both fast and slow all at once. Then William cleared his throat, reminding them of their audience, and Charlotte turned back to the path with slightly pinked cheeks.
***
“I believe I see the new gardens ahead,” she said, her voice not quite as steady as it had been a moment before. “Shall we see if they are as impressive as everyone claims?”
They rode through the new gardens in companionable silence for quite some time, with curious bystanders stopping in their tracks as they noticed them, and ladies whispering behind their fans.
“I have been considering implementing some of your father’s methods at the mineral works,” Sebastian said as they paused near a particularly fine display of spring blooms. “The way he balances efficiency with worker welfare is quite remarkable.”
“Indeed, my lord. I would argue that—”
“How fascinating,” Lady Magdalena Gibbons’s voice cut through their conversation like frost through tender shoots. She sat astride her pristinely groomed mare, her riding habit a study in expensive perfection. “Surely such… practical matters are hardly suitable topics for a courtship ride?”
Charlotte felt her cheeks warm, but before she could formulate a response, Sebastian straightened in his saddle.
“On the contrary, Lady Magdalena,” he said, his voice carrying a quiet authority that made even William glance up sharply. “I find Miss Fairfax’s insights quite valuable. Her understanding of these matters combines theoretical knowledge with practical application in a way that is refreshingly direct.”
Lady Magdalena’s perfect smile faltered. “But surely a baron’s wife should focus on more… refined pursuits? Music perhaps, or some other decorative accomplishments?”
“A baron’s wife,” Sebastian replied with precision, “should be his partner in all things, including the management of his estate. Knowledge of Mozart is all very well, but I do not see how that would aid me in crop rotation.”
The entire garden seemed to hold its breath. Charlotte could feel the weight of watching eyes and the silent ripple of reaction moving through the morning crowd like a breeze through summer grass.
“How… modern,” Lady Magdalena’s tone suggested this was not a compliment. “Though I suppose some might find such interests… quaint.”
“I find them essential,” Sebastian moved his horse closer to Charlotte’s, the gesture subtle but unmistakable.
“True nobility lies in understanding one’s responsibilities, not in artificial refinements. Miss Fairfax’s knowledge of these matters showcases exactly the kind of practical intelligence that Blackthorn Hall finds itself in need of.”
Charlotte’s heart performed a complicated series of movements that would have impressed even the most experienced circus master. She had expected Sebastian to maintain a polite distance in public and to treat their arrangement with careful propriety.
Instead, he was acting like her own personal knight in shining armor, defending not just her knowledge, but her very nature. Do not let this go to your head, Charlotte!
“You are too kind, my lord,” she managed, proud of how steady she was able to keep her voice. “Though perhaps we might continue our discussion of business matters another time? I believe Lady Magdalena’s expression suggests we are straying rather far from acceptable morning conversation.”
Sebastian’s laugh held genuine warmth. “You see? Both knowledge and wit. Tell me, Lady Magdalena, have you studied the principles of geological formation? Miss Fairfax’s theories on the northern shaft’s structural integrity are quite revolutionary.”
Lady Magdalena’s mare shifted restlessly, mirroring her rider’s discomfort. “I… that is… Mama and I really must continue our ride. I bid you farewell.” She nodded toward the trio as her cheeks turned a deep cherry shade.
As they watched her retreat, William cleared his throat. “Well, that was about as subtle as a landslide.”
“Sometimes,” Sebastian said quietly, his grey eyes meeting Charlotte’s with unexpected intensity, “clarity is more valuable than subtlety.”
Charlotte felt something familiar, warm and dangerous unfurl in her chest, threatening the careful boundaries of their agreement.
Sebastian hadn’t just protected her in that moment—he had declared his respect for everything society found problematic about her.
As they rode on, Charlotte intuitively knew something fundamental had shifted between them, like tectonic plates realigning themselves beneath the earth’s surface.
The question was: what sort of landscape would emerge from this transformation?
Charlotte felt the weight of watching eyes on her as their small party turned toward home, but for once, she found herself more preoccupied with her own observations than those of society.
“I believe,” William said casually, “that we have given the gossips enough material to last at least a week. Though Bash, your rather pointed comments about superficial accomplishments might extend that to a fortnight.”
“I was merely speaking honestly,” Sebastian replied, his voice carrying that same note of quiet authority that made Charlotte’s pulse skip like a stone across water. “Though perhaps with less diplomacy than the situation warranted.”
“Diplomacy,” Charlotte found herself saying, “is often just another word for agreeable falsehood. Rather like calling a thorny rose bush ‘charmingly defensive’ instead of ‘positively prickly’.”
Sebastian’s laugh seemed to surprise even him, rich and genuine in a way that drew several startled looks from passersby. “Is that how you would describe yourself then, Miss Fairfax? Positively prickly?”
“I believe others have used far less flattering terms.” Charlotte guided her mare around a puddle, using the movement to hide her flushed cheeks. “Though I prefer to think of myself as… selectively defensive.”
Sebastian’s voice held a note that made her fingers tighten on the reins. “Beautiful but armed against unwanted advances?”
The question carried layers of meaning that made Charlotte’s heartbeat speed up even more. She glanced at William, who had suddenly become extraordinarily interested in adjusting his horse’s gait.
“I think,” she said carefully, “that even the most defensive roses can be approached successfully, if one shows true respect for their nature.”
Sebastian’s eyes met hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. “And what would constitute true, proper respect, in your expert opinion?”
“Patience,” Charlotte replied, surprised by her own daring. “Understanding. A willingness to accept that not all beautiful things need to be tamed to be of value.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Sebastian’s voice had dropped lower, meant only for her ears, despite their very public setting. “Though I do find myself increasingly convinced that wildness, when combined with intelligence and genuine feeling, is far more valuable than any amount of cultivated docility.”
Around them, the morning crowds had thinned, but Charlotte knew their every interaction was being noted, catalogued, and would be dissected in drawing rooms across London by teatime.
This wasn’t just a morning ride anymore—this was a public declaration of Sebastian’s willingness to court her openly, society’s expectations be damned.
“You do realize,” she said softly, “that certain members of the ton might not share your appreciation for untamed elements.”
“Certain members,” Sebastian replied with quiet firmness, “will have to learn to adapt their expectations. Just as I am learning some of my own preconceptions about proper behavior might have been… unnecessarily rigid.”
William cleared his throat once more. “As fascinating as this discussion is, we should make haste home, Charlotte. I believe you have a painting lesson this afternoon, and Bash, do you not have that meeting with your mother?”
“Of course,” Sebastian straightened in his saddle, though his eyes still held that dangerous warmth. “Perhaps we might continue our discussion tomorrow, Miss Fairfax? I find myself particularly interested in your thoughts about allowing natural growth within structured environments.”
Charlotte felt her cheeks heat again at the double meaning in his words. “I would like that very much, my lord.”
Then, Charlotte caught sight of their reflection in a decorative pond—three riders moving in perfect harmony, yet her eye was drawn inevitably to Sebastian’s figure beside her own.
She could not shake the feeling that their careful arrangement had just become something far more complicated than either of them had planned.
The only question that remained now was: what would happen when Sebastian returned home to face the undoubtedly volcanic reaction their public outing would provoke in certain quarters?