CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The following day was a perfect day for a picnic, and Charlotte found herself in Richmond Park, surrounded by members of the ton.

In normal circumstances she would have rejoiced to be in nature again. The park stretched for miles in either direction, the long grassy banks rising into the forests and woods around them on all sides. An occasional deer could be glimpsed through the trees, and the sandy lanes that crisscrossed the park were a beautiful contrast to the dark greens of the ground beneath them.

Unfortunately, she had to experience the glories of nature with the false gaiety of the party about her. Every conversation weighted with intrigue, every interaction criticized and analyzed from multiple angles. Charlotte had not been at the party for more than an hour, and already she was exhausted.

Lord Kilby had been at her side all day, and Charlotte was conscious of the many eyes upon them wherever they went. His interest in her could not have been more stark or more obvious than at this gathering, and she wished she had found an excuse not to attend.

He had introduced her to everyone as though they were already husband and wife. She very much felt as though she were expected to be on his arm and unable to detach herself to escape for even a moment.

“This is Lady Phelps, my cousin. Lady Phelps this is Lady Charlotte Wentworth.”

The lady was tall with greying hair, her gloved hands held stiffly before her as she gave Charlotte a long look. Charlotte appeared to pass inspection, however, as Lady Phelps smiled and held out a hand.

“It is a pleasure, Lady Wentworth; you look very like your mother. I would have known you from a great distance.”

“You knew my mother, Lady Phelps?” she asked eagerly.

“Very early in the days of our debut. Indeed. She was a kind and genuine woman and a good friend in my youth.”

Charlotte smiled; the lady’s words seemed truly genuine, and Charlotte appreciated being able to speak of her mother. Everyone else avoided the topic like the plague.

“Thank you, my Lady. I am grateful for your kind words.”

Lady Phelps’s smile grew. “What a charming spot you have chosen for this little picnic, Lord Kilby. And what wonderful weather you have arranged.”

Kilby laughed a little too loudly and too long. “Indeed, I do my best to ensure the sun shines on all of you beautiful ladies.”

Charlotte held back the urge to roll her eyes and looked out over the beautiful fields before her. Lady Phelps was right; the day was quite beautiful. She wished she could walk away from them all and have some time alone in nature, but she knew it would be impossible.

“I was most gratified that you attended today, Lady Wentworth,” Kilby said as the newcomers died down a little and they stood alone beside the rugs that had been laid out on the lawns. “I have enjoyed getting to know you these past few weeks.”

Charlotte knew she should respond in kind, but the words were caught on her tongue.

“I am most eager for us to spend more time together,” Kilby continued. “I believe we have a great deal in common. I know that you are accustomed to putting others before yourself, but I assure you if our alliance were secured you would want for nothing.”

Charlotte swallowed convulsively, alarmed suddenly that he might break all propriety and propose on the spot.

“Thank you, my Lord, you are most generous.”

Perhaps sensing her discomfort, Kilby stepped back just a fraction from where he had been leaning against her and threw an arm out to the park before them.

“This reminds me of the park near my home in Derbyshire.”

“Is it so large, my Lord?”

“Vast. And the grounds about it are really quite exquisite. In the next few months, the hillsides about it will be festooned with wildflowers. It is the most beautiful sight.”

Charlotte felt a little better at that. She wondered whether she might be able to walk there alone some time to escape their interminable marriage.

“I have great hopes for my future, Lady Wentworth. I have always wished to further myself and have made many advances in that direction. I can see myself in parliament before long. As you know I am well connected, and any lady on my arm would be so too.”

“That is encouraging, my Lord,” she said woodenly.

“I am glad you think so,” his eyes sparkled in the sunshine. His hair was swept back away from his face today, and the black locks were shimmering in the sunshine too. It gave him a slightly strange appearance, however. Charlotte rather thought, in her mind’s eyes that he seemed like a snake in the grass, but she could not explain the analogy.

Lord Kilby was distracted for a moment by an acquaintance, and Charlotte took a deep breath, looking about at the groups of people talking and laughing together. Everything was so perfect here, as though she were looking at a painting that had been fashioned for this purpose. The pinks and yellows of the ladies’ dresses dotted about the lawns looked artificial in the sunshine.

As her eyes moved around the circle, she gave a small gasp when she noticed a familiar figure at the edge of the group. The Duke of Lindenbrook had arrived without her noticing him. He was standing with some acquaintances at the edge of the crowd, but his expression was the same vacant and proud mask he often wore in public. She had seen that mask before, and had the privilege to watch it fall away in her company.

The sight of him immeasurably lifted her spirits and she found that her breath was coming more quickly, her heart hammering in her chest in a way that it never did with Kilby.

The latter turned to her at that moment and began to speak again of the changes he was making to the roof of his manor house. The conversation had been repeated thrice already—in fact, ‘conversation’ was too much of a stretch; it was a monologue in which Kilby rejoiced in the sound of his own voice.

Charlotte’s gaze remained on the duke, and after a few minutes, his eyes found hers. The green of them was even more stark against the background of the park, and she nodded imperceptibly to him in greeting, which he returned. It was the smallest and simplest of interactions, yet it gave her day a purpose that it did not have before.

I am so glad he is here. I believe every occasion is improved by his presence.

Once the pleasantries of the arrivals had been dealt with, everyone moved to the picnic area, which had been set up in the center of a slope beneath some shady trees.

Several wicker baskets had been laid about the edges of the blankets on the grass, and a number of servants stood waiting to bring food over to the party.

Charlotte approached the area alongside Kilby, who insisted on holding onto her arm despite her being quite capable of walking by herself. As she neared the others who were already seated, her heart clenched at the sight of the duke sitting beside Lavinia Norwell.

Lavinia looked extremely pretty in a deep blue gown, a choker about her neck with a dark gem in the center that complemented the color perfectly. Her dark hair was tied up in a complicated construction that seemed utterly effortless when Charlotte compared it to the mass of hair she had to tame every morning. Lavinia was perfect and untouchable, and Charlotte’s heart sank still further at the gulf that existed between the duke and her.

Not only did she have no confirmation of his affection for her, but also the world had introduced more and more obstacles to keep them apart.

Kilby took her hand and helped her sit down as Charlotte tried to organize her thoughts, but the darkness and worry at the back of her mind was growing. She glanced around for Sarah, seeing her on the edge of the circle and longing to take her for a short turn about the park to clear her head.

As she looked away from Sarah, she caught the eye of Lady Victoria Norwell, whose expression was positively triumphant. Her gaze met Charlotte’s with an air of superiority that grated on her nerves. Lady Norwell’s smirk of victory was an obvious slight against Charlotte.

Lavinia leaned into the duke, speaking quietly to him, her hand moving to lay gently on his arm and Charlotte hastily looked away, a stab of jealousy running through her at the sight.

Elizabeth was seated on the other side of the rug with Malcolm attending to her most gallantly, and Charlotte took a moment to watch their interactions. They seemed so gentle and happy together, speaking together easily and animatedly when Charlotte struggled to form a full sentence in Lord Kilby’s company. She was beginning to believe he had deliberately monopolized her attention.

“Here, Lady Wentworth, try the sandwiches.”

A plate of ham and cucumber was thrust beneath her nose, and Charlotte took two, though her appetite was gone. She was beginning to recognize that she was eating very little at mealtimes with the number of thoughts swirling about her mind, and she endeavored to eat as much as possible, not wishing to faint and draw even more attention to herself.

As the morning progressed, the atmosphere and Kilby’s continuous attention became more and more stifling for her. His constant chatter was suffocating, and as she looked about her, there were many curious glances sent in their direction.

She felt as though all her hopes and dreams were being slowly eradicated in favor of a future she had not wished for. The more time she spent with Kilby, the more she realized he was arrogant, self-obsessed, and proud. He barely spoke to any of the guests he had invited unless it was to make a joke at their expense or insult them.

The happy manners she had heard so much about when she returned to society seemed like an illusion now that she sat beside him. He was a deeply unpleasant man, constantly putting others down to bolster his own good opinion of himself. The difference was that the other people in his circle seemed to find it amusing—or at least made a show of doing so. Charlotte found the whole spectacle extremely cold and wanted to be gone from his side as soon as she was able.

“Well,” Lavinia Norwell said loudly as she laughed at something the duke had said, “I declare, your Grace, I have never heard anything so funny.” She laughed again, but Charlotte only kept her eyes on the duke. He appeared confused by Lavinia’s behavior, and a seed of hope was planted when she noticed him very obviously leaning away from her.

Lady Victoria Norwell’s eyes were never far from any of the women in the group. She appeared to be sizing them up as competition for her daughter, and Charlotte's exhaustion was only heightened at having to keep the smile firmly on her face.

“Do you know, my Lord, I think I will just take a short walk and get some air.” As soon as Charlotte spoke, she noticed Sarah getting to her feet immediately.

“Of course, Lady Wentworth, I shall accompany you,” Lord Kilby said enthusiastically.

“No, please stay. I would not wish to deprive your guests of their host. I shall take a stroll with Miss Gilmore and return shortly. I think I have been sitting overlong.”

She rose and gave him a short curtsy before walking toward Sarah and attempting not to run at full pelt out of the park and away across London.

Sarah’s expression was carefully guarded, but as she took Charlotte’s arm, her pace was swifter than usual. The two women left the group in some haste, walking beneath the dappled shadows of the trees and away into the sunshine.