Page 14 of No Match for Love (Regency Love Stories)

“Why, thank you, Mother.” Charlie’s gaze swung languidly over to Lucas’s. “So he was charming before I was born, was he? Here’s hoping he hasn’t buried it too deep.”

This time, both Father and Mother laughed, and frankly, Lucas nearly did too. But any amusement was cut short when Mother spoke. “He has been charming for far longer than that.”

Lucas shifted in his seat at the attention all three of his family members bestowed on him at that moment. He far preferred to be in the background of this grouping, not the forefront.

“Indeed,” Father said. “He could charm biscuits right out of Cook’s kitchen. I remember more than one time that I had to forgo dessert because Cook had given it away before dinner.”

“Oh, yes,” Mother chimed in, delight coloring her voice. “Your lemon biscuits were his particular favorite.”

“No one seemed to care that they were also my particular favorite,” Father said with a laugh.

Mother patted Father’s knee consolingly, her eyes taking on a reminiscing gleam. “Why, I recall an afternoon that he and Marietta redecorated my sitting room while I was visiting neighbors.”

Lucas’s discomfort turned to dread.

“You would have been too young, Charles, but when I tell you I was in a high temper... well, consider that an understatement. They had cut up my curtains in a ridiculous attempt to recover a chair and burned a hole in my carpet carrying a lit candlestick to another part of the room. But Marietta set Lucas on me, certain he could charm me out of my foul mood... and she was right. I remember—”

Lucas stood abruptly. “I have just recollected something I must finish before Charlie and I leave. Excuse me.”

The door to the morning room thudded shut behind him with a slam much like that of his heart against his chest. He stopped several strides into the hall, breathing heavily as he attempted to tamp down his emotions. He pulled in a breath, holding it. Holding back the dam of recollection.

It had been years since he had lost his twin sister.

Years. But the moment someone brought her up, even mentioned her name, it still felt as if the wound were wide open, as if he were missing a limb.

He released the breath, pressing a hand to the wall in front of him, feeling the rough texture beneath his fingers, and thanking the heavens that his mother had not followed.

In a handful of seconds, he had his breathing and his memories under control.

But it took longer than usual. That was worrisome.

He pushed from the wall at the same moment the morning room door opened. With disciplined practice, Lucas schooled his expression. Charlie met his eyes, his gaze straying to the hall beyond, as if wondering why he was still there, just outside the room they’d been dining in, but he said nothing.

“Are you ready?”

“Now?” Lucas hadn’t even had a chance to be caught up in some important business that would keep him from joining his brother.

“Yes. Before you discover some reason to avoid coming.”

Well that was an unfortunate bit of mind reading.

“Very well.” Lucas paused. “But we are taking the curricle, and I am driving.”

Charlie began walking for the door, his speed slowly increasing. “Only if you can beat me to it.”

Lucas was proud of the restraint he showed at generally every moment of his life.

It was necessary. It had become a part of him.

But anyone with a younger brother would know that his next actions—of overtaking Charlie, grabbing him by the back of his cravat, and soundly beating him to the front door—were more an ingrained physiological response than anything else.

Lucas drove the curricle to Miss Faraday’s home.

Charlie was up the stairs before Lucas had even alighted from the carriage.

The butler had admitted him as Lucas was still ascending to the door and wondering why exactly he was being brought along if Charlie intended to run off without him.

When he finally joined his brother, the butler showed them both into the drawing room and promised to call down Miss Faraday.

Charlie settled himself on a settee.

Lucas chose not to sit just yet. “What do you have planned for Miss Faraday?”

Charlie cocked a brow. “This.”

“This?” Lucas surveyed the room. “Truly?”

“Yes. I do not think I need to undergo social acrobatics to get to know a young lady.”

Lucas let his lips drop into half a frown.

“You disapprove?” Charlie leaned back, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“It is none of my business how you court a woman.” Lucas glanced at the door, which was still closed.

Charlie leaned forward, also glancing to the door as he whispered, “Careful, brother. Outing my intentions was never a part of the deal.”

Lucas needed to check for gray hairs when he returned home. Time with Charlie was aging him by the second; he could feel it. “Apologies. It is none of my business how you get to know a woman.”

Charlie nodded, his smile broadening. “Much better.”

The door opened. Miss Faraday entered, her expression curious when her eyes alighted on Charlie as he came to his feet.

Lucas’s heart decided to undergo its own acrobatics at her appearance. How many times would it do that before it grew tired of the exercise? Hopefully this would be the last.

But then Miss Faraday looked to Lucas, and his heart did cartwheels yet again. Dash it, couldn’t his own body just remain within his control? Was that too much to ask?

“Good day, gentlemen. To what do I owe this honor?” She seemed hesitant to come into the room, as if their only reason for being there would be to cause her some sort of grief, and she was undesirous to discover just how much.

Lucas had no intention of causing her any amount of discomfort, yet he could not speak for his brother, who at that moment was striding to Miss Faraday with an outstretched hand.

“My brother and I determined that we could not allow our association with you to end. I hope you do not mind the intrusion on your time?” He took her hand in his and kissed the back of it. Lucas’s stomach twisted—his body once again going rogue.

“No.” She still appeared rather hesitant. Even more so, actually. “Not at all. It is very kind of you to visit. Might I offer you some tea?”

“That would be delightful,” Charlie exclaimed.

Miss Faraday looked to Lucas. He nodded. “Thank you.”

“Please be seated. I will call for tea.” She retreated from the room. It was even darker today than the last time they’d been there, with the overcast sky out the window pairing with the dark furnishings.

Charlie looked pointedly at Lucas as he retook his seat. “She does not seem to mind my lack of social acrobatics.”

“Likely because you were already falling all over yourself just to kiss her hand. She would deem acrobatics too difficult for such a—” The door reopened, and Lucas clamped his mouth shut.

Where had that outburst come from? For years, he had naturally drawn into himself to the point that it took a great deal to elicit any sort of overt response.

It was safer to be in control. He could not make mistakes that way.

That, and it was simpler to feel less in the face of just about anything. Emotion clouded his thinking and generally led to some form of disappointment or heartache.

Miss Faraday directed a maid to settle a tray on a low table, then she looked at Lucas. “How do you take your tea?”

“Plain.” At least with the tea in his hands, he would have something to do while waiting for Charlie to accomplish his flirting.

She took a great deal of time to pour, and the dishes clanked loudly as she did so.

But her hands did not seem to shake, and when she handed Lucas’s to him, some of the liquid spilled out.

Instead of appearing abashed, she, in fact, seemed to be biting back a smile.

Did she enjoy poorly preparing tea? Maybe he shouldn’t drink it after all.

He’d just hope for Charlie to flirt quickly so they could go.

Only, once Charlie had his own cup in front of him, he seemed content to let silence reign.

Miss Faraday sipped lightly at her own tea, glancing at the clock every so often, and a growing need to fill the silence burgeoned in Lucas.

Not for his own sake, but for the woman who was clearly growing uncomfortable.

What was his brother doing? He’d said that Lucas needed to learn about courting, but clearly it was the other way around.

“Were you able to remove the stains from your dress, Miss Faraday?” After he said the words, he felt immediate embarrassment. Of all things to ask, he had to throw out a question regarding her laundry ?

She did not seem to mind the break in propriety. “Yes, in fact. We used vinegar, as your mother suggested. It worked wonders. I will have to thank her.”

Lucas nodded. “I seem to recall you having already known that trick before my mother mentioned it.”

She nodded and sipped from her tea, an unidentifiable expression crossing her face. A gleam of entertainment or challenge maybe. “It may surprise you to know that I have a fair amount of experience in laundry.”

“Truly?” Charlie asked curiously. Of course, now he joined the conversation, after Lucas had done the groundwork for him.

“Indeed. I have helped many of Lord Tarrington’s tenant farmers in the past.”

“That is very eccentric of you,” Charlie said.

She lifted a shoulder. “I am rather eccentric then. I enjoy it.”

Lucas watched her with a growing appreciation. He’d seen how she was talking with the young children the other day, but to know that sort of kindness was normal for her made her rise in his esteem. Who cared if she poured tea worse than a four-year-old?

“You enjoy laundry ?” Charlie asked, incredulous.

She laughed a little. “Perhaps I do not enjoy it, exactly, but I do enjoy spending time with the tenants. I suppose that makes me eccentric as well.”

“Certainly,” Charlie said without censure but with a fair amount of amusement.

Miss Faraday did not seem to take offense. She once again lifted her shoulder. “They were my closest friends growing up.”

Lucas had been leaning forward toward their conversation without realizing it. He sat back. “I imagine they must miss you a great deal.”

“I should like to think they are in the throes of despair, always watching the window to see if I may surprise them with my return, but in truth, I think they are glad I am gone.” She spoke cheerfully and without malice, so Lucas assumed it was safe to ask for elaboration.

“Why is that?”

She shrugged again. “According to many, I am too perceptive by half and too much of a mother hen. ‘Overbearing’ may have been a word used on more than one occasion, if memory serves.” She offered half a smile, her words light and filled with good humor.

She was far more relaxed than their last visit.

Dared he hope that it was because she preferred his and Charlie’s company to that of Colbert and Belcher?

Not that he should hope for such a thing.

“Overbearing? I do believe I know an older sibling or two that may fit in that category.” Charlie cut his eyes to Lucas. Lucas ignored him.

“I am sure they appreciate the care you have on their behalf,” Lucas said.

A distant expression appeared on Miss Faraday’s face. “I certainly hope so, though even if they do not, I do not believe I could keep myself from it.”

Lucas nodded, understanding that feeling himself.

Marietta had often told him he cared too much.

He was fairly certain she had even called him a mother hen a time or two.

Such as when she wished to run off to help a neighbor or deliver a basket, and he felt the need to accompany her—slowing her down, by her estimation.

His caring hadn’t helped her in the end.

He was so focused on squashing the emotion that came with that thought that he did not realize he’d allowed the conversation to grow stagnant.

Thankfully, Charlie had finally decided not to be so derelict in his duty, and he asked her some question to which she was now responding.

He made her laugh with a response, and Lucas was able to blend quietly into the background of the conversation. The place where he was most at ease.

But for some reason, he hardly felt at ease at all. An anxious, itchy feeling seemed to have taken up residence in his person, and it took all his attention just to keep from shifting constantly in his seat or attempting to stand and pace the room.

It had to be the recollection of his sister.

It couldn’t have anything to do with the looks Miss Faraday kept sending his way.

He listened in on their conversation, gleaning information such as Miss Faraday’s favorite color (which was green), her favorite dish (which was a type of soup he’d never heard of but was apparently divine), and about a dozen facts about Charlie that he’d already known.

At least, he’d known most of them. The conversation veered for a bit to talk about pugilism, of all things.

Charlie told Miss Faraday that he’d been taking lessons from Gentleman Jackson, which was something Lucas had not known.

He almost broke into the conversation at that, but Miss Faraday saved him the effort, directing a question to him.

“Do you enjoy the same things as your brother?” she asked.

Charlie laughed, which briefly drew Miss Faraday’s attention to him, but it came right back to Lucas after, with a questioning look in her eye.

“Not really, no.”

“The understatement of the century,” Charlie said, smiling broadly.

“Speaking of centuries, Miss Faraday, did you hear of that woman who reached one hundred years of age in February? Last name was Perryman or something. Anyway, fascinating stuff. Would you want to live to be one hundred? I cannot say that I would.”

And just like that, Lucas was shunted again to the background of the conversation. Watching Miss Faraday converse with his brother was the first time he’d felt the desire to be more involved in a social situation.

Miss Faraday sent a look his way, along with a small smile, which sent a drop of warmth down his spine.

“And though Lucas seems to question my driving abilities, I—we—would love for you to join us for a drive. If you would be amenable?” Charlie was asking Miss Faraday. Apparently their next adventure would include more driving. Lucas would have to do his best to be at the reins again.

Miss Faraday’s brows rose at the invitation, but she recovered a more neutral expression quickly. “I shall consult with Lord Tarrington, but I imagine that will be agreeable.”

Charlie came to his feet. “Shall we say Thursday? We shall collect you at half past twelve, if your guardian approves the outing.”

Miss Faraday glanced Lucas’s way. The room seemed smaller at that look.