Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"I think I'll wear the pearls," Charlotte said, as Sara held up two necklaces for her to choose from.

It was the evening of the dinner at Downside, and Sara had been helping Charlotte get ready. Charlotte's mother had insisted on her looking her best, and she was dressed in a red gown and matching shawl, with pearl earrings, and now the necklace to complete the set.

"You look very pretty, Miss Davidson," Sara said, and Charlotte sighed.

"Well, if I'm to meet the man I'm going to marry, I suppose I should make some sort of effort, shouldn't I?" Charlotte said, shaking her head.

She had thought of nothing else since the previous morning and had not been able to concentrate on her writing - try as she might. There was a sense of injustice about it all - the unfairness of being forced into something she neither wanted nor deserved. Isabella would never have settled for a forced marriage, and yet Charlotte had no choice but to agree to it.

"It'll be all right, Miss Davidson. They say the earl's a good man," Sara replied.

"Who says? I don't know anything about him," Charlotte replied.

"I hadn't realized it was him we met in the garden. But I know one of the maids at Downside - a cousin of mine. She says the earl's a fair man, and a good employer. I know it wasn't exactly the best of introductions, but… well, perhaps you'll find his company more conducive this evening," Sara said.

Charlotte raised her eyebrows. She was not looking forward to dining at Downside, even as part of her was vaguely fascinated by the prospect of meeting the earl again. She was curious about him - as much as she resented being forced into something not of her own choosing. Her parents had told her they had made the decision for her because she could not make it for herself, and yet they had given her little opportunity to choose her own path - firstly by forcing Lord Baxter on her, and now this.

"Well, we'll have to see, I suppose," Charlotte replied.

She was resigned to her fate, and a short while later, she found herself in her father's carriage, as she and her parents made their way across the district to Downside.

"Remember what I told you, Charlotte - don't mention your novels," Charlotte's mother said, as the carriage made its way up the drive.

Charlotte sighed. But there was no point in arguing. Her parents had made their views clear, and Charlotte was not about to cause a scene. She wanted to get the evening over with as soon as possible, and she had no intention of being impolite.

If anything, she was curious to know what had prompted the Earl of Swadlincote to choose her as a potential match. Could he not have any woman he desired? It was all very strange, and as they approached the house, Charlotte looked out at the place she might well become mistress of.

"It's such a beautiful place, isn't it?" Charlotte's mother said, as Charlotte gazed up at the ancient house, covered in ivy.

Downside had once been an abbey, its conversion coming after the reformation, when the Swadlincote earldom had been created in recognition for the family's support of the king during the religious reforms. Downside had been his gift, and the family had lived there ever since. Charlotte had read about it in a book in her father's library that morning, and she was interested to see inside, even as she was nervous as to the thought of meeting the occupants…

"Yes, very beautiful," Charlotte replied, as a footman came hurrying to open the carriage door for them.

As she stepped down, Charlotte wondered what the earl would be like - how he would behave. Did he even yet realize she was the woman from the garden with whom he had exchanged such abrupt and angry words? The door of the house now opened, and the earl himself appeared to greet them.

Charlotte took a deep breath - she did not want to be rude - and now she forced a smile to her face. Compared to the Earl of Burton-Upon-Trent he was a handsome man - tall and slim, with brown hair and a trimmed beard. He was smartly dressed - more so than the other day - wearing a blue frock coat and white shirt and breeches, with gold cufflinks showing at the sleeves.

"Mr. and Mrs. Davidson, Miss Davidson, welcome to Downside," he said, glancing at Charlotte and smiling as he held out his hand to Charlotte's father.

"It's a pleasure to be here, my Lord - truly. And may I introduce you to my daughter, Charlotte," Charlotte's father said, oblivious to the encounter they had already had.

"Yes… of course. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Davidson. I trust you'll find our hospitality… satisfactory," he said, and Charlotte smiled.

"I'm sure I will, yes, thank you," she said, taking his hand.

He raised it briefly to his lips, before doing the same with Charlotte's mother, and leading them inside. The house was grand, but in a faded sort of way - dusty and ancient. The panelled walls of the hallway were hung with portraits - serious looking men looking sternly down at them - and Charlotte looked around with interest, imagining the history the walls could tell.

"We're in the drawing room. I've invited a few others to join us. A friend of mine, Olivia Wright, and he father, the Earl of Burton-Upon-Trent, along with the Dawsons - Sir Arthur and his wife," the earl said, ushering them along the corridor.

"What a remarkable house Downside is. I wonder if my second cousin, the Princess Louisa, has ever visited. I shall have to write and ask her," Charlotte's mother said.

Charlotte rolled her eyes. The princess never replied to any of her mother's letters, for no doubt there were many people who claimed to be her second cousin…

"Just in here," the earl said, as they came to an open door, through which the chatter of pre-dinner conversation could be heard.

"It was Lady Ferguson, I think - but she didn't stay long. Her husband has gout, you see. He can't move unless she's there to help him. The servants are useless of course," an older woman, who Charlotte assumed to be Lady Dawson, was saying.

She was speaking to an older man and a younger woman, her husband examining a book, and as Charlotte and her parents entered the drawing room, they all looked up.

"May I present Mr. and Mrs. Davidson, and their daughter, Charlotte," Jacob said.

He had not made much of an attempt at small talk, and he and Charlotte had exchanged only the briefest of pleasantries as they had walked together to the drawing room. Again, Charlotte wondered why he had chosen her, and what was behind this curious arrangement between him and her father.

The younger woman now stepped forward, introducing herself as Olivia, while Charlotte's parents struck up a conversation with the Dawsons, and Jacob took the Earl of Burton-Upon-Trent aside.

"This is all very unexpected, isn't it, Miss Davidson?" she said, and Charlotte looked at her curiously, not knowing why Olivia should have an opinion on the matter.

Her presence seemed curious - who was she in relation to the earl? A friend? Or did she aspire to be something more? Charlotte had read enough romantic novels to know there were often those who sought to test those who were to be married to someone they were connected to, and Charlotte could only assume this was such a test.

"Well… I suppose so, yes," Charlotte replied.

"But you're not eager to pursue things too quickly, are you?" Olivia asked.

Charlotte looked at her with a confused expression - she knew nothing of Olivia, and yet now she was interrogating her as to who she was and what her motivations might be.

"I'm sorry? I don't quite understand what you mean," Charlotte replied.

"The marriage. Oh, it's all right, Jacob's told me all about it," Olivia said.

Charlotte was about to ask what she meant, and what there was to tell, but now the Earl of Burton-Upon-Trent drew Olivia aside, and Charlotte was left standing alone, as now the Earl of Swadlincote approached her.

"I suppose I should apologize for what happened the other day - with the ink, I mean. It wasn't the best of introductions, was it?" he said, and Charlotte smiled and shook her head.

She was not about to be churlish. It had been an accident, and now she understood why the earl had been so upset - it was hardly the thing to make a proposal to a woman's father with one's shirt covered in ink.

"It doesn't matter. I'm sorry your shirt was ruined. You must've been rather embarrassed talking to my father in such a state," Charlotte said, and the earl laughed.

"Yes… I was, rather. But… it doesn't matter. It made no difference to the happy outcome," he said.

Charlotte nodded. It was all very curious. She did not know how to feel - or how she should feel. He was nice enough, and the conversation would have been a pleasant, light-hearted one had it not been tainted by the fact of what had been promised, and the question of why it had been promised, too.

Charlotte did not understand why the earl should want to marry her, and she was curious as to why he would choose her over Olivia, who was so obviously jealous of the fact he had done so.

"No… only a stained shirt," Charlotte replied, and the earl nodded.

"Yes, but my valet's very good. He got the stains out. It's as good as new now. And your dress? It wasn't ruined, was it?" he asked, and Charlotte shook her head.

"No, my maid's also very good. My mother was cross, I had to change before dinner. We had a guest, you see, but… well, that doesn't matter. It seems both of us survived our encounter with the ink bottle," she said, and the earl laughed.

"Yes…" he said, and the two of them fell silent.

Charlotte did not know what to say. The conversation felt stilted - awkward, even. The two of them had no connection, no reason to find themselves in this situation. They knew nothing of one another, and yet now they were expected to be as any other courting couple should be. It was a contrived encounter, and Charlotte could not imagine things improving between them - not if the earl did not make more of an effort.

"It's a fine house," Charlotte said, not knowing what else to say to stimulate the conversation.

The earl nodded.

"Yes, and one worth saving for future generations of the family," he replied.

Charlotte thought this a rather odd remark to make - why would the house need saving, and from what did it need saving from?

"Yes, I'm sure. The portraits in the hallway are very fine. I've been reading about your family's history in a book in my father's library," Charlotte replied.

The earl looked impressed, and he smiled at her and nodded.

"It was the gift of the king - as was the earldom. After the reformation," he said.

"I thought I should acquaint myself with the history of the house," Charlotte said.

Her mother was watching her from across the room, and Charlotte knew she was wondering what they were talking about - no doubt telling herself she hoped there had been no mention of Charlotte's desire to write a novel. But the earl seemed interested in the fact of her having taking the trouble to learn something of his family history, and she did not think he would take badly to her having literary interests.

"You'd be welcome to examine the books we have here - you like to read, I assume?" the earl said, and Charlotte smiled and nodded.

She had no intention of pretending to be a silly young lady, only interested in gossip and soirees. The earl had chosen her - for what reason, she did not know - but if she was to agree to the match, Charlotte had to be certain he would not treat her as the likes of Lord Baxter would. Marriage was not something to enter into lightly, and Charlotte had to be certain the arrangement would offer her the freedom she so longed for.

"I love to read - and I write, too," she said, ignoring her mother's words, even as the earl smiled.

"How interesting. I have to say, I can't abide small talk. I like… serious conversations. A well- read woman - or man - makes for a far more interesting encounter," the earl said.

His words were a revelation to Charlotte, for she had feared he might be just like Lord Baxter - a man who gave his opinion and expected others to agree with it. But this was different, and Charlotte smiled, glad to think the two of them might enjoy stimulating conversation together.

"I feel just the same. I can't abide gossip and small talk. I don't see any point in it. I'd much rather debate ideas than talk about other people and the intrigues surrounding them," Charlotte said, and the earl smiled.

"As would I," he said, just as a distant gong sounded - presumably to call them in for dinner.

Charlotte felt a sudden sneeze coming on, and she pulled her handkerchief from her pocket to stifle it. But as she did so, she dropped the handkerchief to the floor, the urge to sneeze passing her as the earl stooped to pick it up. At that moment, Olivia turned from talking to her father, and looking down at the earl kneeling in front of Charlotte, she tutted and shook her head.

"A proposal already, Jacob? You barely know one another," he said, and Charlotte blushed as the earl handed her the handkerchief.

"Really, Olivia," he said, shaking his head.

The dinner gong was a fortunate distraction, and now the earl ushered his guests into dinner. But Charlotte could not help but feel a tension between him and Olivia, one she did not like to be in the middle of. The earl had been pleasant - charming, even, but Charlotte felt certain there was far more to all of this than met the eye.