you were born to be a queen,’ Nanny Beth used to say when they were children making their annual sojourn to the country and to another Malverly party. If there was anyone with a life that had been more difficult or more broad than her surrogate grandmother’s, Lottie had yet to meet them and so any advice was always heeded.
Lifting her chin, she did not waver and when she caught her image in the glass to her left she thought even her normally wayward hair was obeying Nanny’s long-ago command. The day spiralled in on her and she closed her eyes for a moment to savour the success of her plan.
‘Please Lord, let this work. Please let Mr Jasper King be here among the melee and please let him listen.’
Jasper stood at the top of the landing and looked around. His sister was here somewhere; all the good works she was involved in culminating in this Christmas charity event. Even as he thought this he found Meghan chatting to this person and laughing with that one.
Civil engineering, the family company, King Enterprises, and the great pressure of work that came with it had made him too busy for all this. He couldn’t remember coming anywhere near the social scene much, even before injuring his leg, and he was pleased to see a footman conveying wine.
Good wine, he amended a moment later, and, returning his glass, procured another of the same ilk. Fortified, he could probably do a better job here and he knew his sister would spend a good hour with him afterwards dissecting all the conversations they’d had.
A voice from the past made him turn and there before him stood Miss Susan Seymour, a friend of Verity Chambers, the woman he’d imagined himself to be deeply in love with three years ago before his whole world had fallen to pieces.
‘My God, is it you? Mr King? Verity said you were back in London. You do know that she has been trying to get in touch with you, don’t you?’ Susan Seymour was cut from the same cloth as Verity Chambers, her alabaster skin flawless and her eyes blue. Both had been beautiful women and Susan still was. The light caught the blonde tints in her hair and her high-necked bodice was particularly flattering. ‘I cannot quite believe you are back in London in person. You always seemed so immured in the north.’
She moved closer. ‘You knew Verity married Mr Johnny Alworthy a month after she left you, but did you also know that he died just over a year ago in an accident?’
The news was unexpected. ‘I am sorry. I had not heard that.’
‘Oh, it was not the tragedy you might think it,’ Susan Seymour returned, her voice low and husky. ‘As soon as she was married I think she wished she wasn’t. She was always so eminently sensible, but her love affair with Alworthy dissipated all that in a moment and was something I could never understand. Personally, I do not think she can now, either.’
The shocking truth of that statement left him marooned, as did Susan Seymour’s hand resting on his arm. The wine quickly drunk was also doing its bit to make him feel dislocated and all he hoped for was that his sister might come looking for him and interrupt.
‘It was her mistake to say goodbye to you, of course, and God knows why she did so?’ She let that question slide as he failed to answer. ‘Verity has not been happy since, so I can only surmise that being young has its pitfalls and they were ones she just could not have possibly predicted.’ This was said with intensity as her fingers squeezed his arm. Her eyes were full of question.
Jasper refused to be drawn into explanation. ‘Well, now we are all older and much wiser. Thank God.’
‘Older, perhaps, but you’ve created quite a stir here today. I have been hearing your name right across the room.’
‘My sister is one of the sponsors—’ he said, but Susan Seymour interrupted him, eyes alive in interest.
‘I do not think it is your sister the women are interested in. You have built up King Enterprises to be a powerful and well-known company, your influence in all areas of business a common topic of people’s conversation. It is you they wish to know better, Jasper, a man they admire.’
The use of his Christian name and such overt flirtation had him stepping back. ‘When you do see Mrs Alworthy, please tell her that I send my regards, but I am not planning on staying in London for long.’
‘Then that is a shame and I know she will be sorry for it. As will I.’
With a forced smile Jasper took his leave and walked towards the large windows on one side of the room. Here at least there was space to breathe, for the conversation with Susan Seymour had shocked him.
‘God, help me.’ The words escaped unbidden as he stopped and a woman he had failed to see sitting beside him glanced up and stood.
‘My thoughts exactly, but you at least look like you fit in here.’
‘And you don’t?’
She was petite and well formed, her hair a wild bunch of escaping curls and her irises the colour of old whisky. She also had dimples, deep ones in each cheek.
‘I am only here to meet someone, but unfortunately I cannot see him anywhere.’ As she stated this she craned her neck as though having one final look.
‘Who is it? Perhaps I would know of him?’
‘Mr Jasper King. He is the owner of an engineering company that builds railways and bridges all across England.’ A slight blush covered her cheeks.
The jolt of shock as she mentioned his name came unexpectedly. Jasper was seldom surprised by anyone any more and the feeling took him aback.
‘And who are you?’
‘Miss Charlotte Fairclough. My sister Amelia and our mama and I run the Fairclough Foundation for needy women and their children in Howick Place in Westminster.’
Through the haze of the past Jasper remembered seeing a younger version of this woman huddled against an upstairs banister as he had come to pay his regards to her sister after some ball. Charlotte? She had had another name then and he sought to recollect it. As if she had read his thoughts she continued.
‘But people more often call me Lottie.’
‘I think Charlotte suits you better.’ God, what the hell had made him say that to her, such a personal and familiar declaration? But if she was startled by his words she certainly did not show it.
‘I always thought that, too. For a little while I insisted everyone use my full name but old habits soon crept back in and now hardly anyone uses it. Well, Mama does when she is cross at me, which actually is quite often, but otherwise it is Lottie. Plain and simple.’
The babble of her words was somehow comforting. After the surprise of seeing Susan Seymour and all the undercurrents there, this conversation was easy and different. He leaned back against the wall and decided to stay put for a while. What was it Miss Fairclough wanted of him, though? He could not think of any reason why she would seek him out unless it was something to do with her brother. Before he could be honest and tell her his name she had already gone off on another tangent.
‘Are you married, sir?’
