The Discreet Charm of Lady Mary (A Howertys Novella)

Chapter 1: A Mere Friend

June 10, 1819
London, England

John Osborne lacked for nothing. As the third son of an earl, he had been forced to make his own way, and he had done so quite successfully. After joining the War Office at a young age, he had quickly moved into the more unknown departments that dealt with national threats, and he'd had moderate success filtering out dissenters and spies. It was work he enjoyed as it kept him on his toes and busied his mind.

Which was more than could be said for this ball. Stifling a yawn behind his hand, he swept his eyes over the room and the gathered crowd. Lady Bates's balls were always popular, and the guests milled about like ants around an apple pie. As always, his eyes strayed to his friend Miss Olivia Newton. The familiar pang in his chest made itself known when he saw her laughing with their friend Anthony Dashwood. The man she had been in love with for years, but who saw her as nothing more than a friend. A familiar feeling as it was exactly how she looked at John, completely unaware of his feelings for her.

"Are you ever going to tell her?"

A voice next to him nearly made him jump. It wasn't often anyone could sneak up on him, but Lady Mary Kinson appeared to have silent feet. Schooling his features into a mask of polite interest, he looked down at the young woman who had come up to stand beside him.

"What do you mean?"

The hint of a smile teased her lips as she nodded toward Olivia. "Are you going to confess how you feel? It's been literal years. Don't you think it's time?"

Was he that obvious? He had believed himself able to conceal his feelings. Did Olivia know? The thought of her knowing and pitying him made his insides lurch uncomfortably.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied stiffly, which only garnered him a quiet laugh.

Mary was Olivia's best friend, and he knew her fairly well as they often met socially in the group of friends they shared, but he had never quite warmed to her. She was a little too loud, a little too outspoken. He grunted inwardly. A little too honest.

"Please," she said, sounding amused, which only rankled him further. "Do not play dumb. We both know how you feel about her."

"Suppose I do—" He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Care for her... I see little reason to tell her when she so obviously sees me as nothing but a dear friend."

"And she will never think of you as anything else if you give her no reason to." Lady Mary rolled her eyes. He did not appreciate it. "Maybe finding out how you feel is exactly what she needs to get over her infatuation with Dash."

"You don't think he will eventually realise and marry her?" The question slipped out before he could stop himself. He had wondered this many times and maybe one reason he had not told her was because he thought their friend would eventually realise his mistake. Who would not want Olivia? It was unthinkable to him that someone would not want to marry her.

"Honestly? No, I don't think he ever will. I suspect he knows how she feels. He just doesn't feel the same."

There was that honesty again. He supposed he shouldn't be too surprised. Mary's other friend—another one in their shared friend circle—was the most outspoken woman he had ever known. Lady Nicola Howerty—no, Lady Nicola Winter now—never held back. He wasn't sure why the quality annoyed him more in Mary than in their other friend.

He watched her as she took a sip from a glass of lemonade. Both she and Olivia had attended several seasons by now, and while he knew Olivia's reasons for remaining unmarried, he did not know Mary's. As the daughter of an earl, she wasn't without suitors, but he couldn't remember if she had ever received any offers. Maybe they found her as abrasive as he did.