CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“It is a fine match,” Lord Wentworth said happily. “I have never met a man as fine as Kilby.”

Charlotte sat silently in her chair, watching her father pacing in the drawing room. The day outside the window was bright sunshine, and she had sat for almost half an hour watching the sun move slowly over the floor. Interjecting every now and again with a word or two of agreement seemed to be all her father needed.

The tirade continued.

“What did you speak of at the picnic? Did he make any hint of his intentions? He asked you to visit his estate; that must have meant something.”

“We spoke of the weather, and he discussed his properties,” Charlotte replied absently. She felt as though she were on the precipice of a slow descent into madness. It was interesting to discover that no matter how much you railed against the world, another’s will could always override your intentions.

“He has five properties, and I have been asking about his capital. He has many investments, and his wealth is quite substantial.”

“Yes, Papa.”

Her father turned to her, her tone not matching his own jubilation.

“How can you object to such a man? He has been very generous with you, has he not?”

“He has—”

“And you can hardly have expected, after returning so abruptly, that you would find someone as eligible as Kilby.”

“I did not, but—”

“You are a foolish girl to wish to hold off for another. There is little to be said for dallying when you have a perfectly good match sitting before you.” He ran his fingers roughly through his hair. It was thinning badly on the back of his head and Charlotte had noticed since they returned to town that the problem had become worse.

“It would be wise for you to find a suitable match, Charlotte. We are not in a position to wait.”

She hesitated, watching him carefully as he rubbed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes, his shoulders tense. “If you would but explain, Papa.”

“It is not something I should discuss with you,” he said dismissively. “We are not in as good a financial position as I would have liked. Kilby will resolve all of that. You will have everything you could possibly wish for from a life with him. He shall assist me.”

Her father moved to the drink’s cabinet in the corner, pouring himself a large glass of whiskey and knocking it back in one movement. Charlotte fidgeted, watching the telltale signs of her father’s distress. It was clear to her that things were not as they should be. He spent an interminable amount of time in his study and regularly spoke of the headaches he suffered from.

Whenever she ventured into his room, there were ledgers and papers everywhere, as though he were trying to get to grips with his affairs. He had always alluded to the fact that Kilby would be the ‘answer’ to their problems.

If I delay, will I put our lives in more jeopardy? Will I be forced to marry simply to keep a roof over our heads?

“You must take his proposal seriously when it comes, and of course, it will come. No man would pay you so much attention without that as his goal.”

Once more, the room around her seemed to shrink. She felt as though she were standing in a dark corridor, walking toward a comforting glow ahead of her. But as she came toward it, the light turned into flames. She could not turn back and had to blindly stumble into the fire, praying she would not be burned.

“Yes, Papa.”

He walked back toward her, resting a hand lightly on her shoulder, the only affection he ever showed her.

“You have done well, my dear. Your mother would be proud.”

Charlotte swallowed around the lump in her throat as he went to sit on the settee, pulling out the paper and putting an end to their conversation.

She sat staring out of the window at the bright day filled with sunshine, unable to reconcile the happy weather with the turmoil in her mind.

What would Mama have really thought? She wondered. What might she say if she were here now? Would she counsel me to have faith in my father or tell me to follow my heart?

For it was her heart that she wished to follow. She knew without any doubt that the duke could make her happy. She had seen enough of his character and spent enough time with the people he called friends to know that he was a gentle soul, just like her.

Their brief exchange in the park had only bolstered that opinion. He had been so kind, so understanding above anything else, speaking of his own troubles as though there were far more between them than mere acquaintance.

Charlotte thought of the journal in the floorboards beneath her bed. She had drawn it out again and again to read her mother’s writing. There were so many parallels to her own situation, and a fierce part of her wished to right the wrongs of history and fight against what her father wanted. But Charlotte was not a foolish woman. If her father had mentioned their situation, it meant that it was dire enough that he felt she needed to be privy to his worries. There was no doubt that Kilby was the salvation her father needed to either save their fortune or settle debts. She did not know the nature of how they had reached this situation, but she knew she was the key to reversing it.

Her mother had written of her thwarted love, of the man she had had to leave behind in order to marry her father. Had they ever been happy? Charlotte could not help thinking of her mother’s illness, of her father’s absence throughout the final days, and that strange relief that had come over him upon her death.

Did he ever really love her?

Such a thing was rare in good society, she knew. But she had always told herself that her parents were happy. Outwardly, they had seemed to be. Even Sarah, who had been her governess first had spoken of the bond they shared. Perhaps one did not need to love one’s partner, merely find a companion whom one could share one’s days with.

Unable to sit in silence with the heavy weight of her father’s expectations on her shoulders, Charlotte bid him farewell and went upstairs. She had another ball to attend that evening and this time it was hosted by the duke’s mother. She felt a certain nervousness about attending but at the same time she yearned to see him again.

Charlotte made her way upstairs and headed to her chamber but paused, not wanting to be alone. She turned instead toward Sarah’s room and knocked on the door. Sarah bid her enter and Charlotte came into the room to find her companion seated by the fire, reading one of the books the duke had purchased for Charlotte.

“Is all well?” Sarah asked, closing the book after she had marked her page and indicating that Charlotte should sit before her.

Charlotte sat down, feeling just as gloomy as she ever had, and sighed.

“I suppose you think me very foolish for not accepting Kilby.”

Sarah frowned. “He has made you an offer?”

“Not yet, but Papa is adamant that he will.”

Sarah’s eyes softened considerably. “I could never think you foolish.”

“That is because you are too kind to me,” Charlotte admonished, and Sarah gave her a fond smile.

“Do you think, after all the years we have spent together, that I would ever wish you to enter into a marriage that would make you unhappy?”

“No,” Charlotte sniffed, tears building at the back of her eyes. “No, I do not.”

She could not help the tears from falling now. It felt as though they had been banked for months and that they were only now able to spill out. Since her mother’s death, she had rarely cried, trying to keep a facade in place for her father, for the household, for everyone. But now she let them fall as Sarah came to kneel beside her and took her hand.

“It will be alright, my darling Charlotte. You are the most capable woman I know. You will make the best of every situation that is put to you.”

Charlotte wiped her cheeks. “And what will happen when I marry? I will lose you! You might be sent away.”

Sarah squeezed her hand tightly. “Do not shed tears for me. I have known for a long time that you will eventually marry and need to move on. I have many options and might even return to being a governess. I always enjoyed teaching.”

“But you must promise to visit me,” Charlotte choked out. “In one of the five properties I will be mistress of. I feel so wretched and yet I know many women who would be thrilled to face such a future.” She sighed heavily. “I am sorry, Sarah. I am being very foolish, but everything has been decided against my will.”

“I know, dearest.” Charlotte looked down at her as Sarah gave her a wan smile. “It was my deepest wish that the duke and you might become a partnership.”

Charlotte sucked in a long breath. She was hardly surprised that her companion had observed her regard for the duke but shocked that Sarah would speak of it so openly.

“I remember you saying to me once that he seemed pompous,” Sarah said teasingly.

Charlotte laughed. “I did say that. I take it back unreservedly.”

“I can see why you said such a thing. The first time he spoke with you I thought the same, but I believe it is a facade he shows to the world. No one with such a kind expression could be as cold as he appears to be.”

“I have enjoyed getting to know him. If nothing else, it has been a gentler return to society than I expected. His cousin is very kind, too.”

“Lord Preston certainly seemed to think so.”

“It is not just my eyes deceiving me then,” Charlotte said archly.

“Certainly not, Lord Preston is very deeply in love with Lady Elizabeth Ludlow I think.”

“I hope he has the courage to tell her. I think they would make each other very happy,” Charlotte said quietly, and strangely, the thought of her cousin’s happiness cheered her a little.

As she recovered herself, Charlotte rose to her feet and wiped the last of her tears away.

“I am sorry.”

“You do not need to ever apologise to me, Charlotte, you know that,” Sarah stated kindly.

“Will you help me decide what to wear for the ball?”

“There is no need,” Sarah said with a happy smile. “The modiste sent your new dress today; I believe it is waiting on your bed. Let us go and look at it and ensure you look utterly captivating this evening.”

“Or I could wear something terribly old to put Lord Kilby off.”

“I would not hear of such a thing; besides, it is at the duke’s house, and whatever your future may hold, we must ensure that he continues to notice you.”

Charlotte smiled as Sarah led her back to her room. She felt a little lighter on her feet as she went to change into her new gown. Whatever the night would bring, if it was the last time she could spend with the duke, she would make it the best.

***

The Lindenbrook ballroom was shining with all the candle- light as the guests began to arrive. The ladies were dazzling in their finery, and as Elizabeth accompanied her mother into the room, she was shocked by the beauty on display.

Large vases had been placed all about the room's edges with great plumes of feathers inside in the colors of silver and green. The painted ceiling was illuminated by hundreds of candles that flickered against every wall, and there wasn’t a single guest who had not dressed to impress.

Elizabeth caught her mother’s eye and Lady Constance smiled knowingly.

“The Dowager Duchess has exquisite taste; it is positively stunning.”

“I agree,” Elizabeth said with quiet awe.

“And where is your Lord Preston?” her mother asked, and Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

“He is not my anything, Mama.”

“Nonsense, he has been more than attentive since last season. I would never wish to predict any man’s actions, but I would not be surprised if he proposed before this season is over.”

Elizabeth kept her features smooth, trying not to give anything away. The idea of Lord Preston proposing was a wonderful thought. She adored him and had spent much of the previous week laughing with him. He was one of the funniest men she had ever met, if a little inclined to turn his comedy upon himself.

She looked around the ballroom, noticing his tall figure instantly, and rather excited to see he had already spotted her and gave her a gentle bow from where he stood by the piano.

Her mother, apparently having seen the exchange, began tugging her forwards without further ado. Lady Constance was a romantic and a widower and held no objection to Lord Preston whatever, but Elizabeth was still very pink-cheeked by the time they came level with him. Her face turned crimson when her mother took out her fan and began flapping it in front of her vigorously.

“It is so very hot. I shall just go to the refreshment table for a glass of lemonade, and I will be back momentarily” and then she disappeared, leaving Elizabeth alone with Lord Preston. He smiled down at her, looking very handsome indeed, and for a moment, Elizabeth was utterly speechless.

“You look very well,” Lord Preston said, his eyes moving over her hair. It had taken Elizabeth an age to curl it with her maid, and she was pleased to find his eyes lingering on it.

“As do you,” she said happily. “That's a beautiful chain.”

Malcolm looked down at the fob watch chain at his waistcoat and drew it out. It was longer than the usual fashion, and he was able to hand it over for Lady Elizabeth to examine. It was a beautiful piece, almost fifty years old and polished to a bright shine.

“It was my grandfather's,” he said as she looked it over with fascination. “It does not work,” he whispered, and Elizabeth laughed, handing it back to him.

“Well, it is very beautiful nonetheless.”

“I wished to look the part. I cannot be letting down my fellow dancers when I have the most beautiful lady in the world on my arm, can I?”

Elizabeth saw the mischievous glint in his eye, and she shook her head at him. “My goodness, what lady could ever live up to such praise?”

But Lord Preston’s eyes grew suddenly serious, and he offered her his hand, her breath catching in her throat as he leveled her with a long stare that had an intense heat behind it, she had not seen before.

“I am standing before her, my Lady, and would very much like to secure her hand for the first two dances.”

Elizabeth was not in any humor to jest with him tonight and eagerly handed him her card as they shared a smile of shared joy. Lord Preston dutifully marked it for her, and while he did so, Elizabeth noticed Colin making his way through the room.

As the host for the night, he looked impeccable, his dark hair swept from his face, crisp lines on his tailcoat, and a softly embroidered waistcoat to match. He looked very handsome indeed, second only to Lord Preston. Colin’s green eyes flitted about the room with a rare urgency as she watched.

It looked for all the world like he was looking for someone.