Chapter 24

Chapter 24

"Someone looks happy," Aunt Lydia said when Charlotte finally arrived home that evening. She had dried off in the sun, then Alexander had returned her home in his carriage.

"It has been a very pleasant day for a boat ride," she replied, entering the drawing room where her aunt sat alone with a book. "And it was rather nice to see Stewart again."

"Stewart?" Aunt Lydia raised an eyebrow, and Charlotte looked away, not wanting her expression to admit anything. "Is that who you've been with?"

"As you well know," Charlotte replied. She busied herself with pouring a glass of wine from the decanter on the side. "He called on me this morning."

Aunt Lydia looked her up and down, openly doubting the veracity of Charlotte's words, and perhaps rightly so.

"All right," she said. "If you insist."

Charlotte inhaled deeply before turning with a smile she had been unable to rid herself of since leaving Alexander's company. "I'm home now, regardless," she said. "Will the others be joining us for dinner?"

She sat down on the couch opposite Lydia, but her aunt didn't answer her. Instead, she eyed her carefully and then said, "I thought perhaps we could invite a few others to dinner tomorrow. The Duke of Ashbourne, since he is so keen to be here of late."

Charlotte's heart leaped at the idea. "Why, I—"

"It would be nice for Lucille, too," Aunt Lydia interrupted, and Charlotte's heart sank.

"Of course," she muttered, looking down at the deep red wine that sparkled in her glass.

"And my dear nephew, Arthur. If I recall correctly, you rather like my nephew, do you not?"

Charlotte glanced up at her and smiled weakly. "Yes, I suppose I do."

The following day, Charlotte spent hours preparing herself for dinner. She considered carefully which gown to choose, opting for a silk empire line gown in a rich emerald green. She had Annie do and redo her hair a number of times until it was just right. Silly though it may have been, she wanted to look her very best for the duke that night. She was truthful when she said she expected nothing from him, but she certainly didn't want him to regret what they did, either.

She took a deep breath before stepping into the dining room, preparing herself to see him again. But she was greeted not by polite conversation but by a squeal of excitement. She blinked in surprise as Chelsea bounded over to her, fresh from her honeymoon, and pulled her into a rather unladylike embrace.

"Goodness," she said as she pulled away. "Let me breathe, Lady Lemming, won't you?"

She forced a laugh and smoother down her skirt while surreptitiously glancing around the room. Alexander was there, in the corner, talking quietly with Lucille. It seemed he was so engrossed in his conversation that he hadn't even noticed her arrival, and the disappointment weighed heavily on her. It was made all the sharper by Lucille's loud laughter.

"I'm sorry," Chelsea said, "but it's been an age since we last saw one another! And please don't call me Lady Lemming. It may be my title, but you are as close to a sister as anyone shall ever be."

Charlotte looked at her properly for the first time, and her heart filled with warmth. She had missed dear Chelsea. Her best friend always had a way of calming her thoughts, even if Charlotte didn't reveal them. She pulled her into an embrace again.

"I was just surprised, that's all," she whispered into Chelsea's ear. She pulled away, beaming at her. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"We thought it would be a surprise," Chelsea replied, glancing over her shoulder at her new husband. "And your Aunt Lydia mentioned that her nephew was attending this evening and that you might… well, that you and he were something of friends."

Charlotte frowned deeply. Why would her aunt think such a thing? "He is a perfectly decent conversationalist," Charlotte replied, hoping to be at least diplomatic. Though she had no desire to grow her friendship with Arthur, he was not a bad man. And she suspected he felt the same about her.

"And there we were, thinking you would never even consider the love of a man."

At that, Charlotte blushed, flashes of Alexander's love running through her mind. His hand upon her breast, his breath hot on her neck. Chelsea let out a loud giggle, and Charlotte knew she had entirely misunderstood, but how could she correct her? She couldn't very well tell her the truth. Instead, she fell back on what she would have done in times gone by—on jest.

"It is not as you think," she said. "It's only that now you know what it is to be truly loved by a man, in every sense of the word. I could not help but picture you in such a position."

Chelsea cackled with laughter and mock outrage. "You haven't changed a bit!"

"Should I have?" Charlotte asked, her eyes straying to the duke in the corner. He still had not noticed her. "You have hardly been gone a month."

Chelsea looked around the room, noting all the guests. "Where is your uncle?" she asked. "I have missed his silly humor."

"Uncle Elliot is away on business. I should imagine he would be horrified to discover so many people in his home, especially when it has always been Aunt Lydia who has shunned society."

"And yet she has arranged this evening. How curious."

"Curious indeed," Charlotte said. "I suspect she is up to something, though I cannot imagine what."

"Perhaps she merely wants to see her niece happy and in love. It is a perfectly reasonable thing for any guardian to want."

Charlotte laughed, though it was without much humor. "She has never shown such interest before. I don't see why she should start now."

"Perhaps she sees the bloom of love in you, as I do. You might keep it a secret all you like, Charlotte dear, but I know better than anyone."

"I am not…" Charlotte trailed off. There would no convincing Chelsea, and certainly not as they sat around a dinner table together. It could wait for another day.

"Dinner is served!" The footman's announcement broke into their conversation, and Charlotte was oddly relieved. If she could get Chelsea alone, she would tell her everything. But in a room full of people and thoughts spinning around her mind, it all felt too much.

She trailed behind the others to the dining room. There was her aunt and uncle, naturally; Chelsea and Lord Lemming; Lucille and Alexander; and Arthur escorted Charlotte. As she took her seat next to Arthur, she swallowed back the dread. Whatever this dinner was meant to be, it had been so perfectly arranged. They had all been placed in pairs, but Charlotte desperately wished to swap.

From where she sat, she had a clear view of Alexander. He looked as handsome as ever, and her entire body called out to him. And though he had greeted her with polite stoicism, he had yet to interact properly with her.

Because he is far too interested in Lucille.

"Green suits you."

Charlotte jumped at the sound of Arthur's voice. He was such a boring man that she found herself tuning him out often, and then remembering him suddenly whenever he spoke. He was perfectly likeable yet utterly forgettable.

"Thank you, Arthur. That's most kind of you to say." She returned her attention to the food on her plate: guinea fowl and roast potatoes covered in a rich meat gravy. She painstakingly cut her meat into the smallest pieces, then nibbled at it. "I hear you have invested in a new business?"

"Not a business as such, but railway stocks," he explained. His eyes had lit up at the same rate that Charlotte's heart sank. "And consols—you know, government bonds. Such a prudent investment, of course. Anything issued by the Crown is a sure thing, don't you agree?"

"I've never really thought about it," Charlotte admitted.

"Oh, but you must," Arthur continued. "It is the epitome of stability and security, ensuring that one's capital is preserved while providing for future needs. The government pays the fixed interest annually, you know? I would have thought an intelligent lady like yourself—and one of your means, too—would know all about it."

Charlotte smiled weakly as she chewed on a piece of guinea fowl. "I leave all that to the accountant," she explained.

As Arthur droned on, Charlotte risked a painful glance across the table. Alexander had promised her there was no longer any feeling between him and Lady Lucille, but it seemed now that was a lie. The pair had hardly come up for air, their conversation so deep and engrossing. And Lucille seemed to edge closer to the duke with every word, and she looked at him as if he were her entire world.

What an utter fool I have been.

She thought of the day before, when Alexander had held her so tenderly after their lovemaking. She thought of the things he had whispered into her ear, the way he had kissed her neck, the sensation of him filling her to the very core. She hadn't expected anything from him, but she likewise hadn't expected to feel so badly used and hurt. She looked down at her plate, her chin crumpled with sadness, Arthur's voice providing a steady hum beside her.

To her surprise, Arthur lowered his voice to a whisper and ducked his head. "Are you quite all right, my lady?"

His kindness made Charlotte's heart melt, and she looked up at him gratefully. "Yes, thank you. I suppose I just get a little overwhelmed at such events as these," she lied. "I am glad to have such an understanding and thoughtful man at my side." Her gaze flicked to the duke, though it didn't rest there. She couldn't bear it—seeing him nor her own emotional weakness. Instead, she embraced the kindness of the man sitting next to her.

"You flatter me too much," he replied simply. He paused, searching for something to say, and then he chuckled. "Did you hear about Lord Fairfax's little faux pas at the Somerset ball last weekend?"

"I can't say I did, no." Charlotte hadn't even realized the event was happening. She had been far too tied up in her own emotions to pay attention to a ton she had little interest in to begin with, but she appreciated Arthur's attempts to distract her.

"It was the funniest thing," he said in a whisper. "He was dancing with Lady Annabelle, and you know the sorts of gowns she opts for."

"Long and flowing?" Charlotte suggested. "And I hear Lord Fairfax isn't the best of dancers. Oh, I suspect I know where this is going, and I could just cringe for the pair of them!"

"Exactly that," Arthur confided. "They say Lord Fairfax has two left feet. Well, at least one of them got caught in Lady Annabelle's preposterously long gown, and the silk ripped almost to her knee!"

Charlotte gasped before breaking into giggles. "Oh dear. I'm not sure who I feel the most sorry for, him or her."

"Her, surely," Arthur continued. "If only for the fact that Lord Fairfax followed her around for the rest of the evening, reiterating his apologies over and over again. They say it was enough to drive the poor woman mad."

"But the poor man was probably mortified." Charlotte glanced again at the duke and this time, he was watching her and Arthur. She smiled at the darkness she saw in his eyes. Is he jealous? Turning back to Arthur, she said, "Tell me more. I feel I have missed much this season!"

"Well," Arthur said. "There was the incident with Lady Margaret."

And so their evening continued, Charlotte's mood much improved.

***

Lydia fell onto the couch with a large sigh and an even larger glass of wine. "I'm glad that's over," she muttered. "I'm getting far too old for all this drama."

"But our plan is going exceedingly well," Lucille said. She sat primly on the edge of the couch next to Lydia, her own glass of wine held near her lips as if she couldn't be too far away from it. "I believe I'll have the duke back in the palm of my hand in no time at all."

Lydia chuckled. "I must admit, I saw Charlotte throw you a few daggered looks across the table. I'm not sure she realizes how obvious her feelings are."

She shifted in her seat and took another gulp of wine. It wasn't that she wanted to see her niece unhappy, of course. Charlotte had been part of her family for so long now, and she hoped that she would remain part of the family for many years to come. That was why she was doing this, after all. She couldn't bear the thought of Charlotte marrying outside the family, though her reasons were admittedly less altruistic than she liked to proclaim.

"Indeed. It did make the whole thing a touch sweeter," Lucille said. "Is that a truly cruel thing to say?"

Lydia shot her a look. "Yes, it's terribly cruel, though I expect nothing less of you now that I know you. Never before have I met someone so ruthless."

Lucille pursed her lips and looked away. "I am only ruthless when it comes to getting what I want. What I deserve. And you want this too, don't you?"

"I want the duke away from Charlotte," Lydia replied. "How that happens or what you gain out of it means little to me. You are a means to an end, that's all."

Lucille snorted. "We are using one another and no mistake."

"Perhaps," Lydia muttered.

"What I'm truly curious about, though," Lucille continued, obviously oblivious to the ice-cold atmosphere of the room, "is why you should want this at all. Most guardians would be thrilled to have their niece courted by a duke such as Ashbourne."

But most nieces are not as wealthy as Charlotte. If Charlotte had to marry at all, Lydia would make sure that money remained within the family. Perhaps in Arthur's good hands. After all, the man was weaselly enough to be controlled by his aunt, and that was good enough for Lydia. She had no intention of revealing such to Lucille though. They may have been working together, but Lydia would keep back some information for herself.

"I am not like most guardians," she replied after a moment. "And my reasons have nothing at all to do with you. You can either take my offer or leave it."

"Very well!" Lucille held her hands up in defeat. "I was merely asking. It doesn't really matter. As you said, we both have different end goals, and leaving here with Alexander is mine."

"And you shall have him," Lydia muttered. "Mark my words."