Chapter 1

Chapter 1

May 1813

Charlotte winced slightly as her mother forced another pin into her mass of light golden locks. She had taken over from Charlotte's lady's maid, who apparently wasn't fixing her hair well enough.

"No more pins, Mama," she begged. "My head might fall over at this point."

Her hair was heavy enough when piled upon her head, but to add dozens of pearl pins was asking for trouble. The knowledge that she would have to remain standing for most of the wedding ceremony made her want to pull every pin out and leave her hair loose. Unfortunately, her mother would sooner eat her own hat than allow her daughter to appear unfashionable and ‘wild.'

"I wouldn't need so many pins if you didn't have so much hair," her mother countered. "We cannot have one curl out of place. The dowager duchess will be looking for any excuse to criticize you."

"Criticize me?" Charlotte repeated. "Why on earth would she do that? She chose me for her son."

"Stepson," her sister, Louise, corrected. "And before you say it does not matter, I will remind you about Miss Rivers. Her stepmother tried to marry her off to her older half-brother while her father was away. How could Mrs. Rivers do that? Her brother was more than twice Miss River's age."

"I heard Mrs. Rivers only married Miss River's father to fulfill her brother's wishes," Charlotte added. "For half-siblings, they were certainly close enough for her to try and ruin a young woman's life."

Their mother grimaced. "Do not remind me of that terrible situation," she said. "What matters is that her father returned home in time to stop that sham of a wedding and removed his wife and brother-in-law from his house."

Charlotte's mother finally released her hair and stood back to admire her work. She appeared satisfied because she called for the rest of Charlotte's accessories.

"I do not wish to wear any jewelry, Mama," said Charlotte when her lady's maid appeared with a heavy diamond necklace. "The pearl pins in my hair should suffice."

"And have people assume we do not have the means to dress you in the finest attire possible?" her mother replied. "Never. You are going to become the Duchess of Richmond. You need to look worthy of that title."

"But you're mixing diamonds with pearls," Louise pointed out. "Do you not think they will clash? You should have put diamonds in her hair instead."

Their mother looked between the necklace in her hands and Charlotte's hair. "I suppose you're right," she replied. "Perhaps diamond combs instead of pearl pins."

Charlotte groaned. "I cannot sit for another hour doing my hair," she complained. "If I must wear jewelry, I'll wear my pearl necklace."

It was significantly lighter than the weighty necklace in her mother's hands. The elaborate piece was a family heirloom passed down from mother to daughter. Charlotte would gladly give it to her younger sister, but not even Louise was keen to have it.

"The pearl necklace will not complement the neckline of your dress, dear," her mother replied.

"Then I will go without a necklace," said Charlotte.

"Nonsense," her mother said. "You might as well be naked. Templeton," she said, calling Charlotte's lady's maid. "Take these pins out of Lady Charlotte's hair. We'll be using the diamond combs."

Charlotte's shoulders fell. "Mama," she cried. "We're going to be late."

"Not if we hurry," her mother replied. "I will not have anyone judge our family because my daughter didn't look perfect for her wedding. People will be watching us."

Charlotte sighed. From as soon as she could understand that girls would held up to an impossible standard, she had done her best to ensure her mother would never find reason to complain. From having perfect manners to playing the pianoforte with precision and heart, Charlotte excelled in every area of being a well-bred woman any parents would be proud of.

She even wanted to be a wife and mother, something she had dreamed about since childhood. It just also happened to be something expected of women, so it worked rather well for her.

When her parents first mentioned the possibility of marriage, she readily agreed to their chosen match. Charlotte trusted her parents to choose the right man for her, so when they informed her that she was betrothed to the Duke of Richmond, a man she had never met, she did not complain. Her only request had been to know what he looked like.

Her mother had assured her he was handsome and looked younger than his age. That had led to another question about his age. Her soon-to-be husband was eleven years older than her, which was fairly normal, but Charlotte was worried she might not be mature enough for him. She was nineteen and had barely seen the world, let alone her own country. The duke had been a commanding officer in His Majesty's Service, so he was a man of substance and order.

"Mama," she said, suddenly worried. "Do you think I'll be a good wife?"

"Your father and I would not be giving you in marriage if we believed you were not ready," her mother said, helping Templeton with the pins. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm worried His Grace will think of me as a silly girl," she said. "I heard he is quite mature, stern and—"

"It's normal to have a few worries and doubts just before the wedding," her mother said. "I assure you His Grace will do right by you. The dowager duchess was adamant about that. You just be the lady I raised, and all will be well."

Charlotte nodded, although her belly fluttered vigorously with nerves. She had been excited about her wedding, but now she wasn't so confident about the step she was about to take.

"You're nervous, aren't you?" Louise asked, sitting on Charlotte's bed and swinging her legs back and forth. "I do not blame you. While men in the military are dashing, I heard His Grace is humorless."

"Louise," her mother chided. "There is more to life than charming men and laughter. His Grace will be a good husband and father. That is all that matters."

Louise rolled her eyes as soon as their mother wasn't looking, making Charlotte giggle.

"What is it?" their mother asked suspiciously. "What are you giggling about? Louise, did you do something behind my back?"

It was uncanny how accurate their mother could be. Louise straightened and widened her eyes innocently, but their mother didn't appear convinced by her little act.

"We're going to be late, Mama," said Charlotte, drawing her mother's attention away. "You know how the vicar despises tardiness. It might as well be an added sin to the Good Book."

"Mr. Lewis needs to find a wife and stop bothering the parishioners," her mother retorted. "He has ridiculous rules about everything. It's tedious."

Charlotte almost laughed. Usually, her mother was complimentary about their vicar, but he had recently made a subtle comment about her bodice being a tad too low, which had earned him her ire. No one was allowed to comment about her attire, least of all a man of the cloth.

Charlotte's mother was somewhat fanatical about being fashionable and the most well-dressed woman in the room. The situation was further worsened by her mother's archnemesis, who had been within hearing distance. Lady Manning was once Charlotte's mother's friend until they fell in love with the same man.

Once Charlotte's father chose her mother, that ended a childhood friendship and turned them into enemies who fought using snide remarks, subtle criticism, and a need to outdo each other in everything . Houses, children, modiste, chefs—everything. Her mother was currently in the lead.

It took another moment for Charlotte to realize that she no longer felt nervous, only excitement. She would finally become a wife, and within a year, she would be a mother.

Charlotte still wasn't sure how and where babies came from because her mother had been somewhat vague. From the little she had understood, her husband would kiss her at night, making a baby grow in her belly. A midwife would help her take the baby out, but she was still uncertain about the method.

"Gloves, Templeton," said Charlotte's mother, interrupting her thoughts. "The short ones with the lace."

"Are you nervous about your first night with your husband?" Louise asked.

"Louise," their mother warned.

"Why would I be nervous?" Charlotte said, slipping into her shoes. "Mama explained everything to me."

"The duke is a stranger to you," Louise explained, darting a furtive look at their mother. "I do not know how I would feel kissing a man I have never seen before. What if his breath reeks?"

"For heaven's sake, Louise!" their mother snapped, growing red. "We are not going to discuss this matter. It's not ladylike."

Louise's concerns were valid, but talking about such intimate details could only result in a scolding.

"If Mama and Papa like him, that is enough for me," Charlotte said. "Not only will this marriage further our family name, but I will also be a duchess."

"Listen to your sister, Louise," their mother said. "She is focused on the correct aspects of this marriage. Now," she said, standing back and smiling, "I am happy to declare you're ready. You look beautiful, dear."

Charlotte smiled and turned to the mirror. Her mother was right. She did look beautiful, radiantly so. Her father had said that men loved beauty above everything else, so according to his words, her husband should think highly of her. She hoped.