Chapter 12

They did not make an announcement. After they left the garden, Charlotte returned to the house while Ethan rode into Blackpool to obtain the common license. If he was successful, they would marry the following morning. Since an outing to Blackpool had already been scheduled, it would be quite convenient and would offer them some degree of discretion.

That thought left Charlotte positively shaking. But not with fear. It was excitement and anticipation which left her trembling. The kisses they’d shared, the way he looked at her as if she were the most beautiful woman in the world, and the way her heart quickened at the merest touch from him—while it was not love, not yet, it was certainly infatuation. And that was a great deal more than she’d had with Arliss, in retrospect. It was certainly more than she’d anticipated having after he broke their engagement to marry Georgianna.

Dressing for dinner, Charlotte was nearly finished pinning her hair up when a knock on the door halted her efforts. Calling for her visitor to enter, she was stunned to see that it was Regina Cavender and her maid.

“If my brother means to tell the world you’ll be his bride, then you ought to look the part,” Regina said with her typical straightforward manner. “It wouldn’t do for people to think a future marchioness is doing her own hair.”

Before Charlotte could even protest, the maid had pushed her down into her chair and was ferociously attacking her hair with a brush and a plethora of pins. In the end, she created an elaborate coif that, while not completely opposite of her normal style, was clearly much more complex in construction.

“Better,” Regina said, nodding her head decisively. “Now for your gown. You cannot wear that.”

Charlotte looked down at her perfectly fine pink dinner dress. “It’s a lovely gown. It’s one of my favorites,” she protested.

“Precisely. I myself have seen you wear it on no less than five occasions… Collins, fetch the royal blue silk. It should do nicely for Miss Mulberry, I think.”

Immediately, the maid rushed off to do as she’d been bade. Charlotte turned to her and said, “Mrs. Cavender?—”

“Regina. I can hardly have you addressing me so formally when we are on the verge of being related, can I?”

Charlotte frowned but continued, “Regina, thank you for lending me the services of your maid, but I cannot possibly borrow your clothing. It’s too much.”

Regina shrugged. “Then you’re not borrowing it. I’m gifting it to you. You need a different gown, Charlotte. Tonight, assuming Ethan could procure the license, all eyes will be on you. And you are a reflection of my brother—of his taste, his station, his generosity. It’s very important that people understand how much he values you… and that cannot happen if you are wearing a pretty enough dress that has been put on display at every gathering for the last five years.”

It was likely closer to ten years, but Charlotte didn’t feel it was appropriate to state that. It would hardly help her cause. “That is very generous of you.”

“No. It is the very least I can do. Ethan is my brother, but more importantly, he is my only family. And he has adored you from afar for seven long and very lonely years… This is the promise of happiness for him. And I do want that—his happiness. Do you, Charlotte?”

Of course, it wasn’t only about the dress. “I cannot and will not claim the depth of feeling that Ethan has expressed for me. But I do want him to be happy. I do very much want to be his wife and to be the best wife to him that I possibly can be.”

Regina cocked her head to one side for a moment, weighing that. Then she nodded. “Good enough.”

The maid returned then, royal blue silk draped over her arm. “The gown, miss.”

Charlotte stared at the silk for a moment, then nodded. She would have to trust others to guide her. After all, what did she know about being a marchioness? Next to nothing, of course. But she would learn.

The Marquess was not in attendance with the other guests as they gathered in the drawing room before dinner. Georgianna thought that quite odd, but just as odd was the very fashionable gown worn by Miss Charlotte Mulberry. Everything she’d seen the woman wearing thus far had been adequate, but hardly the first stare of fashion. No doubt, they were older gowns that had been remade many times over. And yet, on that evening, she was wearing a royal blue silk gown that complimented her coloring perfectly and showed her figure to its best advantage. Those feats had not been accomplished by any other garment she’d seen her in. Nor, she thought, would impoverished Miss Mulberry have the means by which to purchase such a garment.

Her gaze traveled across the room to where Mrs. Regina Cavender stood in conversation with their hostess, Mrs. Whitlow. Noting the rich plum of Mrs. Cavender’s gown, it was quite obvious to Georgianna that the woman had taken pity on Charlotte and dressed her to avoid her being an embarrassment. Why? Was it because she’d accompanied them there and might reflect poorly upon them? The possibility that it was much more significant than that reared its head. Unable to staunch her curiosity, Georgianna asked, “Where is the Marquess?”

Arliss mumbled something in response. The details of it didn’t matter so much as the general sense of disinterest. If he’d known anything of import, he’d have shared it readily, not out of any real concern for gossip but because he would wish to avoid another ugly scene with her.

“Have you ever seen Charlotte Mulberry dressed in such a flattering and quite obviously expensive garment?”

At that, Arliss looked up, scanning the room myopically until he found her. Then his eyes widened in shock. “No, I certainly have not. But she does look quite fine.”

Georgianna seethed. “Fine enough that you’d rather be married to her?”

Arliss’ head whipped around. “Most certainly not. Georgianna, you must stop with this jealousy. I have made my choice, have I not? I am here with you and happy to be so. Charlotte and I… well, we were betrothed out of convenience primarily. There are hardly any unmarried ladies or gentlemen of our station in Ambleside. It was less about any feeling for one another than about simple availability.”

Somewhat mollified by that, she would forgive Arliss, but she detested Miss Mulberry and the way everyone fawned over her. And looked at Georgianna as though she were an interloper. Until she could render Charlotte unworthy of sympathy, they would never accept her. She could not—would not—be a pariah for having married Arliss.

“I think I shall go and speak to her,” Georgianna said. “After all, there are no hard feelings between any of us. Are there?”

Arliss appeared more than a little concerned at that pronouncement. “Georgie,” he began with the nickname she detested but that he thought she simply adored, “darling, your temper is somewhat… volatile. Are you certain that’s wise?”

A tight smile curved her lips. “I’m certain of it… darling.”

With that, Georgianna whirled away from him and sailed across the room to where Miss Mulberry stood in the midst of a group of other ladies. “Miss Mulberry, you do look lovely this evening. That color is most becoming on you.”

Charlotte, to her credit, managed to smile, though there was clearly concern in her gaze. “Thank you, Mrs. Cranford. You are very kind to say so.”

“What a remarkable transformation you seem to have made! From a country mouse to a sophisticated woman of the world ready to take on high society,” she mused. “One might wonder if perhaps you always had ambitions beyond a simple life in Ambleside.”

Charlotte’s eyes widened. “That is quite a tale to have spun based solely on the color of a borrowed gown.”

“Gifted, Charlotte. Gifted,” Regina Cavender said from behind Georgianna.

Turning to meet the woman’s cool gaze, Georgianna realized she might well have overstepped. After all, she herself had reached that conclusion earlier when she’d wondered where else would Charlotte Mulberry have gotten such an expensive and fashionable gown. “Gifted?”

“Of course,” Mrs. Cavender said. “That color is hopeless on me, but I knew that it would be divine on our dear Charlotte. And lo and behold, I was quite right. When my brother returns, he will no doubt agree most enthusiastically. In fact, he should be here any moment.”

“Where is the Marquess? I declare, I have not seen him all day. I thought perhaps he had returned to Ambleside… finding our company not to his liking.”

At the speculative comment, Mrs. Cavender smiled rather smugly and then actually winked. “Oh, I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised at just how much my brother values the company here. I would go so far as to say he adores it. But when he arrives, you may ask him yourself if you need further reassurance.”

“I shall certainly do that… of course, Miss Mulberry has been monopolizing his time quite effectively,” Georgianna stated. “Though, one can hardly blame her. Titled bachelors are not exactly easy to come by and opportunity must be seized, mustn’t it? You aren’t getting any younger, after all.”