Charlotte blushed on meeting his gaze and dipped a perfect curtsy. “Lord Greyley. How nice of you to visit.”

Anthony had met Charlotte when he’d assisted Sir Melton home after he’d fallen off his mount while hunting at Greyley. The two men had known each other for some time, but Anthony had never accepted any of Melton’s numerous invitations to visit his house until that day.

It had been the end of a particularly trying week, and he had been tired and worn from dealing with the Elliots. Charlotte had appeared like a beacon of light, her shy, perfectly mannered presence a welcome change after dealing with the brash, ill-mannered members of his family.

With the proper training, Anthony was certain she would make an outstanding countess. He took her hand and smiled down at her, noting how her head didn’t even reach his shoulder. “How was your visit to London?”

“Lovely,” she said in a soft, breathy voice. “I could have stayed forever.”

“But Charlotte was very glad to return home, weren’t you, dear?” her mother said.

“Oh, yes,” Charlotte said, blanching as if she’d committed a major solecism, her lip trembling.

Seeing how tense she was, Anthony asked her if she’d managed to go to Anstley’s Amphitheatre to see the animals. That did the trick, for she talked nonstop for several moments, practically glowing when she relayed her fright of the lions. Anthony smiled indulgently, though he scarcely paid attention. Anna Thraxton was wrong—his manners were impeccable. He knew exactly how to behave in company.

Charlotte continued to talk of the dazzling array of amusements in London until Lady Melton gently suggested that Charlotte should return to her room to rest.

She immediately stood and made her adieu, softly closing the door behind her.

Lady Melton took a sip of her tea. “I hope you will forgive Charlotte for chattering on so. The journey was quite fatiguing.”

“I hope she doesn’t develop too much fondness for London. I am rarely there, except to see to the affairs of my family.”

“Charlotte enjoys the sights, but her true love is the country,” Lady Melton said firmly.

Anthony nodded, the restlessness returning in full force. He felt…dissatisfied for some reason. Before, he’d always thought Charlotte’s innocence engaging. Now a slight nagging feeling persisted, as if he hadn’t considered some important fact. “Lady Melton, perhaps you could suggest some reading for Charlotte—something to broaden her mind.”

Lady Melton set down her cup, a flicker of a frown in her brown eyes. “Of course. Perhaps some Shakespeare?”

“Perhaps.” That wasn’t exactly what he’d meant, but it was a start. He spoke with Lady Melton some moments longer, then took his leave. Usually when he rode away from the Melton residence, he felt at peace, certain in his future and his destiny. Today, however, all he could think of was Charlotte’s excitement about the lions at the amphitheater and Anna Thraxton’s deep chuckle when she’d tried to embarrass him in front of his wards.