Always the Rival (Never the Bride Book 7)

footman will bring some delicacies to you.”
Lord Rust looked out over the lawn and took in the spectacle. Charles forced down a laugh as he saw the look of barely hidden distaste on the gentleman’s face. It was a little avant guarde, even for his mother, but then she had heard engagement picnics were all the rage on the continent, and who was she to buck the latest trend?
And so the lawn was covered with blankets, chairs, and small tables with elegant plates piled high with the latest cuisine. Footmen encircled the guests with champagne bottles in one hand and silver platters of delicious food in the other. The weak autumn sunshine ensured no lady would overheat, and only a few people struggled to keep themselves in a decorous manner when lowering themselves onto a blanket.
“Hmmph,” Lord Rust said before walking off.
Charles sighed, but immediately forced his shoulders high as another gaggle of guests were brought over by another footman.
“Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Howarth,” the dowager simpered, curtseying low. “So honored that you have graced us with your presence.”
Charles bowed automatically, barely taking in their names. Had his mother invited every single person they had ever met to Orrinspire Park? The lawn was large but was still overflowing with people milling about, blankets starting to become scarce across the dark, lush grass.
As he looked toward the gates, he could see a line of people trailing toward him. God’s teeth, more people!
He felt movement beside him and realized he had utterly forgotten Miss Lloyd. She curtseyed to the latest guest to be welcomed, and he bowed in turn, feeling a little foolish.
His own engagement party, and he had forgotten about the bride. Well, that was what you got with an arranged marriage. He barely knew Miss Lloyd, and all his hopes of using the picnic as an excuse to speak with her privately had been utterly dashed by his well-meaning but constantly present mother.
He glanced at her, and she smiled wanly. Charles was about to speak, but his intended opening remark was immediately forestalled.
“Charles? I said, did you not, Charles?”
His attention snapping back to his mother, he saw a grandmotherly type lady standing before them, looking expectant.
“Yes,” he said immediately. “I mean, no. I beg your pardon?”
The lady sniffed and walked away.
His mother did something she had not done for many years and nudged him in the ribs. “If you do not attend, Charles, I shall be most displeased!”
She loved him; he knew that. All this was intended to put his marriage on the best possible start.
“I do apologize, Mama,” he said aloud. “Perhaps if Miss Lloyd and I were to leave you to welcome the guests, we could circulate and –”
“Do not be ridiculous,” she snapped. “You are welcoming your guests to your engagement party.”
“I think I would be more interested if I had actually invited any of these guests,” Charles said with a wry smile.
Miss Lloyd stifled a laugh beside him, and it made him feel a little better. At the very least, she had a sense of humor.
His mother, on the other hand, was not so easily amused. “They are guests of the family, Charles, and I do not want to hear any more impertinence. You may be six and twenty, but I can still send you to bed without any supper.”
There was that stifled laughter from Miss Lloyd again, but this time it only made Charles’s heart sink. Was he just going from one woman who dictated his every move to another?
He blinked in the warming sunlight and tried to hold his frame to the taut, respectable angle that his mother expected. How long had he been welcoming guests to this foolish engagement party? It felt like an age, but it could only be about an hour.
An hour of watching people trot past him muttering their congratulations for a marriage he did not even want.
“Can you hear me, Your Grace?”
Charles almost took a step backward, the voice was so fierce. Blinking to attention, he saw Lady Romeril was standing before him, her hands on her hips. She was so like his mother – but then, they were cousins.
“Is that any way to speak to your great aunt?” she snapped. “Just because you are marrying one of the most eligible ladies in society, that does not mean you can stop being polite to the least eligible.”
“My dear Lady Romeril!” Lady Audley looked absolutely mortified and threw Charles a panicked look. “I must apologize for my son, the excitement of the day, you know how these young people…”
Charles smiled. No matter the fierceness of her expression, he knew Lady Romeril had a soft spot for him, and there was a twinkle in her eye if ever he saw one. He always knew when to play to his advantage, and it was now.
“My dearest Lady Romeril,” he said, switching on the Orrinshire charm, “I do apologize, but you know I had good reason.” Leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek, he whispered loudly, “I have to try to keep our secret, or the whole of society will know.”
When he straightened up, he saw the irritated look on Lady Romeril’s face had been replaced with a chuckle.
“You will not gain my forgiveness like that, you naughty boy, but I shall pretend for your mother’s sake. And how are you, Lady Audley?”
Charles saw his mother looked mollified and breathed out. Another storm in a teacup avoided.
“And you are Miss Lloyd, are you?” Lady Romeril examined his betrothed and nodded. “Hmm. I do not know you, Miss Lloyd, and I would like to. Tell me…”
Miss Lloyd shot him a panicked look, but Charles could not rescue her. What could he say? Lady Romeril was as close to family as anything he had, outside of his mother, and he was not going to admit he was afraid of her.
“Stand up straight,” repeated his mother under her breath. “We have more guests approaching.”
Charles sighed. The streets of London must be empty, and he had no comprehension