Chapter 4

Chapter

Four

A fter being unable to evade her obligation to attend this evening's ball with her mama, Charlotte stood beside Matilda at the Eden ball, her gown a perfect reflection of the status she held in society. The delicate silk fabric of her dress was a soft shade of sky blue, adorned with intricate lace trim along the low, square neckline, which showcased the pearls that rested above her collarbone. The fitted bodice cinched her waist tightly, flowing into a wide skirt, the height of today's fashion.

Her hair, powdered to a soft white, was styled in an elaborate upsweep, piled high and interwoven with silk ribbons and delicate pearls, the curls perfectly framing her face.

Charlotte watched enthusiastically as Genevieve, in the arms of her new husband, danced about the ballroom floor. Although Genevieve and Lord Tyndall had not started as a love match, there was no denying they were undoubtedly one now. She sighed, watching them and wishing for the connection they had achieved for herself.

"I heard that sigh, Charlotte. What is the matter with you this evening? You're positively discouraged," Matilda asked.

She sighed again and smiled when Matilda gave her a knowing look. "I'm at a loss as to what I should do. I like Mr. Richards, and I'm certain he likes me too, but how can I act upon those feelings when he's Papa's steward?"

"Not to mention that you do not know for certain that he likes you more than he likes any other woman. He could just be polite to his employer's daughter."

A concern she'd had herself many times. Was she imagining that Mr. Richards liked her more than he should? Maybe he was merely being polite, as Matilda suggested, in hopes of keeping his employment without any problems. But what a dreadful thought that was if it were true.

She wanted him desperately to like her. Never had she known such an intelligent, sensible man in her life. He was kind, speaking to all the servants in the house, and handsome as sin.

"I have thought of this possibility, but you have not seen how he looks at me when he thinks I'm unaware. I've caught him watching me, and his gaze is, well, let me say that it makes my stomach flip excitedly. No man looks at a woman like that and doesn't want her in a way that goes beyond friendship."

"Well then," Matilda procured two glasses of wine from a passing footman. "You will simply have to ask him and know the truth of his feelings. He will either say yes or no, and then you'll know for sure."

"But I cannot do that! What if he denies me, laughs, and thinks I'm a silly child?"

"You're not a child. This is your third Season. You're far from a child, and I'm certain Mr. Richards will see that." Matilda paused. "But it doesn't change the fact that Mr. Richards isn't part of our world. Your father will never allow you to marry him, even if you form a close friendship or fall in love. As a steward, Mr. Richards may manage the estate with impeccable skill and command respect from tenants and servants alike, but his position is still that of a servant. In the eyes of society, especially among the ton , marrying beneath one's station would be seen as a scandalous breach of propriety.

"A duke's daughter is expected to make a marriage that strengthens family ties and secures wealth or power, not one of affection with a man who, no matter how capable, would never be considered an equal in rank. Such a match would tarnish not only your reputation but that of your entire family. The strict social hierarchy leaves little room for personal desires when the prestige of a title is at stake. Maybe you ought to look at Lord Anson. You said that he's asked your father for your hand?"

"He has." Charlotte glanced across the room and noticed Lord Anson speaking with several gentlemen—his friends if their laughter and banter were any indication. Lord Anson was handsome and, in truth, of a similar character to Mr. Richards—quiet and kind. But something about her father's steward made her feel things she'd never felt before in her life.

Desire. Passion. Joy. Nervousness.

Lord Anson, unfortunately, did not make her feel any of those things.

"Well, Lord Anson looks to be coming to speak to you. Maybe he's going to ask you to be his wife finally."

Charlotte had the overwhelming desire to slip away rather than face a man she did not want to marry and have to deny him if he proposed. Instead, she pasted a welcoming smile and held out her hand for Lord Anson to take and bow before when he joined them.

"Lady Charlotte, Lady Matilda, how lovely to see you both this evening. I hope you're enjoying the ball?"

"We are, thank you, Lord Anson. And are you?" Matilda asked, thankfully taking command of the conversation.

"I'm enjoying it now that I'm within your company." He paused and met Charlotte's eyes. "And if Lady Charlotte agrees, I would like to take a turn about the room if you would honor me."

"Of course, my lord," she said, knowing she could not deny him. He had not done anything wrong, even if she did not want him to propose.

He held out his arm, and she slipped her hand upon it as they moved away from the grinning Matilda. Her friend had no filter and likely did not care if Lord Anson noticed her amusement.

"I, ah… I wanted to speak with you this evening because…" He paused, frowning as they moved onto the terrace, navigating around the many other guests who were taking the air outside.

"Has your father spoken to you recently? I called on him the other day."

He did not elaborate, but Charlotte knew what he was trying to bring up. She took pity on him and decided to help with his awkwardness.

"I was informed of your call on Papa and the question you posed to him. But I have to admit, I was surprised to hear that you wished to marry me, my lord. We've hardly spoken these past three Seasons, and now you wish for me to be your wife? You do not even know me. I may be a terrible person—mean and coldhearted."

"I do not believe that for a moment, Lady Charlotte, but I understand your concern. I'm a shy man by nature and did not know how to approach you. You must know that The Graces are somewhat famous in the ton —three daughters, all the only daughters of powerful dukes, and the closest of friends. You're a little intimidating."

Charlotte stared at Lord Anson, having never realized that was how people perceived them. That was certainly not how she or her friends wanted to come across in their social sphere or anywhere else.

"I'm so sorry you feel that way around me, my lord. I never set out to make anyone uncomfortable or give the impression that I do not wish to know them better. But that is the crux of our problem, do you not think? I do not know you, my lord. We've rarely spoken or danced, and tonight is the first time you've asked me to accompany you on a walk. Do you think a little courting is necessary before asking my papa for my hand in marriage?"

His lordship's steps halted, and he stepped away from her, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. "I can see your position, and while I agree, I also believe that we would suit. But if you wish for me to court you, to pay you attention so that you may decide if we'll suit, I'm more than happy to do so."

Charlotte nodded, though a slight annoyance thrummed through her. She did not want anyone courting her in truth. She only had one gentleman on her mind, and how she would court him was occupying her time most. "I do not wish to be a chore, my lord. I do not ask for courtship simply because it's what I want before a proposal. I ask so that we may learn to know one another better."

"I understand, and I will court you as you wish."

"You understand, however, that your courting of me does not necessarily mean I will agree to marry you. I wish to make that clear before another word is spoken."

"Oh, of course, my lady. I understand and accept your challenge."