Page 16 of No Match for Love (Regency Love Stories)

Instead, at nearly half past twelve, a low phaeton pulled to a stop in front of Lord Tarrington’s townhome.

Her guardian, who had been sitting at the back of the drawing room with a newspaper—as he perfected the art of ignoring his ward—looked up at the telltale sounds of a carriage. “And who is that?”

Ah yes, Lydia had yet to tell him. Was it pointless to hope that he might forbid the outing? “It is Lord Berkeley and Lord Charles.”

He set his paper aside, that same gleam from days before entering his eyes. “Excellent. You be on your best behavior.”

She would do anything but, at least when Lord Tarrington was not watching her.

“Remember. Do not speak of your past. This is a chance at a match far beyond what you could hope for. Do not squander it.”

The butler announced Lord Charles, who entered the room beaming. His smile did not fall as it took in her guardian; in fact, it grew larger. “Lord Tarrington,” he said, “thank you for letting us borrow Miss Faraday today.”

Lord Tarrington nodded. “In the future, you will send all invitations to me.”

Lord Charles did not seem to find anything amiss in this, though it made Lydia clench her teeth a little more. “Certainly.” He turned to Lydia, who was attempting to withhold a scowl aimed at her guardian. “Are you ready to depart?”

“Indeed.” Anything to escape this home. She started toward him as he held out his arm.

There was no sizzling sensation when she placed her hand on his jacket.

No unruly butterflies taking flight in her stomach.

She did not feel uncomfortable, to be sure, but she did not feel much of anything at all, which was a good thing—she would be better able to put the man off if she was not clouded by feeling.

Together, they exited the house. Lord Berkeley stood stiffly beside the phaeton, watching their approach. The butterflies took flight. When her gaze met his, he nodded a greeting. She could not help scanning his face for some amount of emotion, but there was none.

Lord Charles helped Lydia onto the front seat, and Lydia purposefully kicked at some mud as she pushed from the ground, splattering Lord Charles’s trousers.

“Oh, I am terribly sorry,” she said, looking down at him in mock concern. Though the facade turned real when she saw how very fine his trousers were and how very ruined they seemed to be.

Lord Charles just laughed it off. “With weather like this, I was bound to pick up a bit of mud.”

She gave him a tight smile as he made to climb in beside her, but then Lord Berkeley placed a hand on his shoulder.

Side by side, the two made quite a contrast. Lord Charles was tall, lanky, and had coloring leaning toward that of a redhead.

Lord Berkeley was taller still, broader, with golden coloring.

She continued to have that hint of feeling that she knew him from somewhere.

And their expressions varied even more when Lord Charles turned his smiling face to his brother.

“I ought to drive,” Lord Berkeley said in a low tone.

Lord Charles chuckled. “That will not be necessary.”

“I think it is.”

“It was I who initiated this outing.” Lord Charles’s voice lowered, making it harder to follow the conversation.

Lydia caught Lord Berkeley’s quick glance her way. His hand dropped from his brother’s shoulder, and he gave a stiff nod. Seconds later, Lord Charles was climbing up beside her.

It was then she realized that there was no second seat. There was only the one bench on which she sat.

“Have you ever been to Green Park?” Lord Charles asked her as he took up the reins.

The carriage dipped as Lord Berkeley came up on her other side.

Their shoulders brushed as he sat back, and she forced herself not to look at him, certain he would see her surprise and. .. other emotions... in her eyes.

“No. I have not had the pleasure.” She managed to respond to Lord Charles without so much as a hitch in her words.

“Ah. Then you are in for a treat! It is far less crowded than Hyde Park but just as beautifully maintained.” He transferred the reins to one hand and took one of hers with his other.

The motion surprised her, and she nearly jerked her hand back.

But being sandwiched between the two brothers did not give her much space to move.

“Yet I believe that I am the most fortunate between the two of us.” He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing the back of her glove.

Her brows shot up, and she pulled back her hand, knocking her elbow into Lord Berkeley’s midsection.

Rather than apologize to either, she just looked resolutely forward.

Chuckling, Lord Charles turned back to the road in time to pull the reins to the right, narrowly avoiding the traffic headed past them.

Lydia grasped the front of her seat.

“What do you think of London thus far?” Lord Charles watched her for an answer, which made her grip the chair tighter. Perhaps his brother should have driven; he would have been able to keep his eyes on the road ahead of them.

“Ah, it is far more quick-paced. And dirty.”

Lord Charles barked a laugh. “That it is.” He flicked a glance at the road then turned more fully to avoid another near-collision.

They passed by the Little Theatre, the building putting them in its shadow for a time. Lord Charles urged the horses even faster. Lydia held her seat even tighter. “Green Park lies up here. It is one of my favorite destinations in the area.”

“Wonderful,” Lydia murmured, refraining from glancing to where her shoulder kept connecting with Lord Berkeley’s as Lord Charles set them swaying in their seats.

He had not said a word. Not to her nor to his brother.

It was rather unnerving to have him there all the while, simply listening.

Was he there as chaperone? The thought almost made her laugh.

It seemed a poor use of the heir to a marquessate.

He would be better served ruling in Parliament. .. or marrying rich young ladies.

That thought sent a strange drooping sensation through her.

“The view at the Bason will remind you of being in the country.” Lord Charles jerked the reins to the side, and the phaeton swayed.

She swayed with it, teetering on the edge of her seat.

Well, this was certainly... enlivening.

She might have enjoyed it if she didn’t have an increasing feeling that she should fear for her life.

“Wonderful,” she managed again before the speed picked up once again and she was pushed back into the seat.

Lord Charles held the reins loosely, taking a turn at top speed. The sprawl of homes had begun to lessen as a more businesslike setting took over. At least now she would not end up on someone’s doorstep when the phaeton inevitably turned over. Simply at the front of a place of business.

She’d hardly had the thought before Lord Charles took another turn, glancing at her with some comment about to loose from his grinning mouth, and the side of the carriage tipped so far that the wheels on the left lifted off the ground.

Everything that came next seemed to occur at double speed.

She clenched her eyes shut, grasping at the seat as if it would be enough to save her from tumbling to the ground, but what her hand closed over was not the seat at all, but the man beside her.

Lord Berkeley’s leg tightened at the contact, and mortified, she pulled her hand back as he jumped across her, his body keeping her from losing her seat.

Then the phaeton slowed, both sets of wheels returning to their rightful place.

Her eyes popped open. Lord Berkeley had intervened just in time.

His hands were on the reins, and his head was turned to his brother.

She pressed back into her seat to keep his chest from colliding with her.

Her hand was still burning from its contact with his leg.

“Charlie.” Lord Berkeley’s voice held barely restrained anger, and his jaw was tight. He took a breath. “You are endangering Miss Faraday. Keep all wheels on the ground.” He began to move back to his seat but paused, adding, “And both eyes on the road.”

“I would not have allowed any danger to befall us. Miss Faraday does not mind a little excitement, do you?”

With Lord Berkeley no longer pressing against her, she could focus on Lord Charles’s bright expression. Was this a moment to put the man off? And what answer would do that?

“Ahh . . .”

Lord Berkeley saved her from answering. “Whether she enjoys excitement or not, consider me. You know how little excitement I like in life. I would rather enjoy a sedate ride, if you do not mind.”

“Miss Faraday, you’ll have to forgive my brother his dullness,” Lord Charles teased, eyes on his brother even as he lifted the reins to restart their journey.

And what was she to say to that? She blinked, trying to clear the fog of her brain. She’d intended to convince Lord Charles that she was not worth his time, but she’d not yet felt capable of normal conversation, much less a purposefully off-putting one.

“Truly. Lucas dislikes entertainment and hates to socialize. I am surprised my parents have convinced him to travel to London with us this Season. Though hardly anyone has seen him—he remains cloistered away in the study or library. We are lucky to have dragged him out of doors today.” A small hint of an underlying tension seemed to color his words.

Resentment? But how could one resent their own flesh and blood?

And how could he say so when his brother was just beside them?

A desire to stand up for Lord Berkeley rose in her, and before she could stop herself, she said, “There seems a time and place for everything, does there not? I, for one, enjoy company and solitude. Balls and books.”

Lord Berkeley’s eyes flicked between both of hers. Would that she could read his mind at that moment. But all he did was nod.

Just when she’d given up hope that he would say anything at all, he added, “A good book and a bit of quiet can never be discounted.”

Lord Charles let out a puff of air that was more humored than derisive.

“Well said,” Lydia returned, hoping to heal whatever rift had occurred in the conversation. “Is that what you were doing when Lord Charles was helping me to leave the ball? Reading?”

“No,” Lord Berkeley answered. His eyes darted past her to his brother, and she saw a hint of a smile play around his mouth— a very small hint, but it was there, in the relaxing of his cheeks. “Charlie is not entirely wrong on this account. I was hiding.”

“Hiding?”

All tension lost, Lord Charles chuckled. “He is a little too... ah... How would you say it, brother? Hunted?”

Lord Berkeley shook his head. Lydia watched him curiously, growing too fond of deciphering his little mannerisms. “I simply did not want...” But his sentence faded, and his brother picked it back up.

“To be attacked by every eligible young lady and fortune-seeking mother.” Lord Charles laid his arm along the back of the seat, leaning into Lydia as if imparting a secret, though he did keep his eyes on the lane ahead.

“My brother is quite the catch.” He laughed at whatever was showing in her expression.

“Of course, I do not see why. As I said, he’s a total bore.

” His words were light and, this time, clearly not intended to carry barbs, but Lydia imagined that she saw some of the stiffness return in Lord Berkeley. It made her heart drop to witness.

The phaeton crossed several uneven spots in the ground, causing its inhabitants to sway. Lydia’s shoulder connected more strongly with Lord Berkeley, and without thinking, she glanced up to see his reaction.

He was looking down at her. His eyes seemed a darker green as they bored into her own. Her breath caught.

“Here we are,” Lord Charles announced in the next second, pulling the phaeton up to the entrance of a large park.

Lydia pulled her gaze away from Lord Berkeley.

She felt overheated despite the lack of sun and barely refrained from fanning herself with her hand.

Clearing her throat, she looked out at the park.

The foreground was green and lush and open, but in the background, she could see several copses of trees.

Lord Charles had already jumped from the carriage and walked several steps down the path, looking out into the park and bouncing up slightly on the balls of his feet.

“I will stay with the horses,” Lord Berkeley offered.

He alighted and offered his hand to Lydia before Lord Charles turned back from his perusal.

For a brief moment, as she placed her hand in his, she felt that sensation of fire traveling up her arm—all the warmth but none of the pain.

Yet something told her that if she did not tamp down such responses, pain was sure to follow.

He saw her settled on the ground then turned back to the horses, leaving Lord Charles to offer his arm and escort her into the park. She refrained from looking over her shoulder at Lord Berkeley.

“We will not be long, Lucas,” Lord Charles called back.

Lydia felt a sense of relief at those words—at the promise to return to the company of both brothers before long.

That was a dangerous feeling indeed.