Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"Mrs. Clarkson, you have certainly outdone yourself," Charlotte squealed some days later.

She clapped her hands in glee as she walked around the parlor, touching the flowers and crockery on the tables. The room was bathed in shades of soft pink, lilac, yellow, and green, from the scattered cushions on the settees to the blooms gracing nearly every surface. Even the curtains had been changed to a gossamer white, brightening the room until it seemed that the sun itself had showered its favor upon it.

"I am glad you think so, Your Grace," the housekeeper replied. "This is your first tea with your family. I wished to make it a special one."

"Which you certainly have," Charlotte assured her. "Did you change the paintings as well?"

"You have quite the eye for detail, Your Grace," Mrs. Clarkson said, sounding impressed. "I changed the paintings to complement the room. The others were a tad too dark, so I had the servants borrow ones from the other rooms."

" You have an eye for detail," said Charlotte. "I would not have thought to do such a thing, but it makes quite the difference. Are these flowers from the garden?"

"Some, Your Grace," the housekeeper said. "Others come from the flower shop we usually use for events."

Charlotte leaned a little closer to the largest bouquet. It wasn't very fragrant, but she caught a faint scent that didn't match the flowers.

"Is it just me, or do these flowers not smell like they should?" Charlotte asked. "The scent is still pleasant, but it seems placed there."

Mrs. Clarkson leaned down to sniff the flowers. She frowned and straightened before walking to the next bouquet.

"I think perhaps our florist has applied a little perfume," the housekeeper said. "The blooms must not have been as fragrant as she expected. Shall I return them?"

The housekeeper appeared flushed as she moved from vase to vase. Charlotte didn't want her to be embarrassed but to be aware of the matter.

"No, no, you misunderstand me," said Charlotte. "I understand that flowers can lack a scent at times. I think spraying a little perfume is a marvelous idea. I simply wanted you to confirm what I had discovered."

Mrs. Clarkson blinked repeatedly, evidently surprised. "Oh, well, I am glad you are pleased. I shall inform the florist that my clever mistress has discovered her little trick. That should ensure she does not overcharge us for any flowers in the future."

"You suspect she is overcharging?" Charlotte asked.

The housekeeper nodded. "I believe so," she said. "Miss Giles often comments that her more fragrant blooms are costlier. It is a lie to call them naturally fragrant."

"I suppose you are right, but perhaps we should let her be," said Charlotte. "Keeping a good relationship with our vendors will ensure we are never without resources. Perhaps one day we can go around to all the vendors, and I can introduce myself. We can make a day of it. Have you ever been to Mrs. Kinsey's tea shop?"

Mrs. Clarkson's eyes bulged. "You wish to take me to Mrs. Kinsey's tea shop?" she asked in disbelief. "But I am just a servant, Your Grace."

"I have often gone with Templeton," said Charlotte. "I see no reason why I cannot take my housekeeper during our day out. We will certainly be parched after speaking to all the vendors."

"It is unnecessary for you to speak to the vendors, Your Grace," said Mrs. Clarkson.

She seemed almost scandalized by Charlotte's request, but Mrs. Clarkson would soon learn that she didn't do everything by the book. Charlotte did what felt right to her , not what others deemed appropriate. This was her home, and she wanted to feel she had some influence.

Charlotte smiled. "I would like to see the people who allow our household to run well. The butcher, the vegetable and fruit vendor, whoever provides our cleaning products—everyone. I find such things interesting. Perhaps it's because I'm young and see everything with fresh eyes."

Charlotte paused when she heard a carriage approaching and ran to the closest window facing the pathway leading to the front door. She grinned. Her mother and sister had finally arrived. She had missed them desperately, but fortunately, they had come after she had come to an understanding with her husband. Charlotte wanted to give them good news about her marriage, news she would not have had days earlier.

"They're here," she announced unnecessarily. "Will you bring the tea tray, Mrs. Clarkson?"

"Of course," the housekeeper replied and left.

Charlotte couldn't wait inside the parlor for her mother and sister, so she rushed to the front door just as the butler appeared and startled him.

"Your Grace," he said, placing a hand on his bony chest.

"I wish to welcome my family with you," Charlotte told him. "I've always wondered how it would feel to welcome someone into my home."

His bushy white eyebrows lifted slightly. "Oh, well, may I open the door?" he asked.

"If you please," she said.

Simpson bowed briefly and lifted his eyes to reveal amusement bouncing in them before he moved to the door and opened it. Charlotte didn't mind that he found her antics amusing. She would rather have smiling servants than ones who walked around as though there was no joy in life.

She stepped through the doors and waited for the carriage to stop, barely containing her excitement. Her mother wouldn't approve, but this was her home, and she could do as she pleased—well, within reason.

"Charlotte!" Louise cried the moment she alighted from the carriage.

They ran and flung their arms around each other the moment they were within reach and jumped around as though they hadn't seen each other in years.

"Girls, girls," their mother tutted as she stepped on the provided stool. "That is not the way to behave. Compose yourselves."

Charlotte and Louise reluctantly drew apart, but they kept their hands linked. "So, how have you been?" Charlotte asked.

"Bored," said Louise. "The house is not the same without you. I would have come sooner, but Mama insisted I give you time to grow accustomed to your new home. How much time can you possibly need?"

"Louise," their mother said, her voice sharp with disapproval, "can you behave more appropriately? We spoke about this in the carriage."

Louise looked at Charlotte and rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mama."

Charlotte smiled and approached her mother to kiss her cheek. "How are you, Mama?"

"Well, dear," her mother replied. "We should go inside instead of discussing this outside like uncivilized people. Really, you shouldn't even be outside like this. Where are your servants?"

Her mother looked around as though she was about to call for someone and lecture them, so Charlotte quickly took her arm and steered her inside.

"I wanted to give you a warm and personal welcome," she said. "It has nothing to do with the servants."

"I'm glad to hear you're settling in so well, dear," her mother said. "I knew you would. You just needed a little time to find your feet. You must tell us everything. But only once we've settled. I suppose you have prepared tea for us?"

"I think that is rather obvious, Mama," said Louise. "Charlotte would hardly invite us just to deprive us of tea."

Their mother looked over her shoulder. "None of those sharp quips from you, young lady," she warned.

Louise sighed and lowered her head. "Yes, Mama," she replied.

Charlotte inwardly chuckled. Nothing had changed between her mother and sister—a comforting piece of news. She had been worried she would feel left out of their family dynamic, but everything was as she had left it.

They entered the parlor, which drew a gasp from her sister. "Oh my goodness!" she cried. "This is wonderful and magical. I feel like a fairy. I just need wings."

"It is beautiful, dear," her mother added. "You have outdone yourself."

"Thank you, Mama, but this is Mrs. Clarkson's doing," said Charlotte. "She knew I wanted to do something special for you. I was just as enthralled when I first saw the room. Oh, I see she brought the tea tray."

Colorful and elaborate cakes and pastries were set up at different heights, with platters of fruit, cheese, and cold meat artfully arranged nearby. The kitchen had gone above and beyond what she had wanted, which perhaps called for a little extra in their wages that month. The money would come from her pin money, so she didn't need to worry William about it.

"Please, sit, sit," Charlotte insisted. "I'll pour the tea. I assume we all take our tea as usual? Or did you suddenly change while I've been away?"

"Nothing has changed other than you moving away and abandoning me," Louise replied.

"Louise!" their mother chided.

"It's fine, Mama," Charlotte insisted, chuckling. "I would have said precisely the same thing if I had been in her shoes. Everything is so different. Sometimes, I wake up thinking I will be in my old room, only to remember I'm married and the mistress of a large household."

It had taken her days to get used to a new house, and she wasn't sure if she had fully arrived at the point of acceptance. Her situation with William might be better, but she still missed her home and family.

"Don't worry, dear," her mother said. "It takes a little time, but you'll soon come to see this house as home, especially when you have your first child."

Charlotte's eyes widened. "Let's not speak of children just yet," she said. "I still need to grow accustomed to being a wife. Nothing can quite prepare you for that."

She certainly hadn't been prepared for her first night with her husband all but ignoring her and every day after that until he approached her in the garden.

"But everything is going well, is it not?" her mother asked.

Charlotte licked her lips as she considered what to tell her mother. She didn't want to hide anything from her, but she also understood that some things remained private between a wife and husband.

"I'd like to pour the tea first," she replied.

"That doesn't sound good," said Louise.

Her mother raised her eyebrows. "Dear? Is everything all right? Is His Grace not treating you well?"

Charlotte nearly smiled, but the moment didn't call for it. While her mother was all about behaving appropriately, she became as protective as a mother bear with her cub if she believed her daughters were in trouble.

"I'm fine, Mama," she said, handing her a cup of tea. "Really. Let me make a cup for Louise and I, and I'll tell you all about it."

Her mother pursed her lips as she unnecessarily stirred her tea. She was ready to believe the worst, and Charlotte didn't want that.

"Have something to eat," she insisted. "The kitchen put much effort into everything. In fact, you should take some home to Papa. We have enough to feed a little party of ten."

Louise dove into the pastries with gusto but paused and pulled back when she felt their mother's eyes on her. One might not be facing their mother, but a prickling sensation on the back of one's neck was a telltale sign she was staring and wasn't impressed. Charlotte almost laughed as she settled into her chair with her tea.

"So, you were saying about His Grace?" her mother pressed.

Charlotte should have known her mother would not let go of the topic until she had told her everything there was to know.

"I will be honest and admit my first week was terrible," Charlotte revealed. "William and I barely spoke to each other, and he was always too busy. We rarely had meals together, and I was left alone to learn about my new home. Not even the servants seemed welcoming except for a few."

Her mother's eyes widened as she sat up straighter. Considering she never slouched, it was quite a feat.

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" her mother demanded. "Why didn't you write to us so we could address the matter? The dowager duchess assured us His Grace would treat you well, and how dare the servants mistreat their mistress? I need to speak to them!"

Her mother rose to her feet and would have marched out of the room if Charlotte had not dared to dart around the table between them and take her hand.

"Mama, you haven't let me finish what I was saying," she said. "Please, sit down."

"But they need to be spoken to," her mother insisted. "And that husband of yours. Your father and I gave you to him, believing he would look after you. Now we hear that he neglected you and—"

"Mama," Charlotte interrupted. "Please sit down and listen to everything. I assure you there is an explanation for everything."

"I certainly hope so," her mother grumbled as she returned to her chair. "I cannot think what you can say to make this better."

"I promise you will feel reassured about my position here once I tell you," said Charlotte.

She returned to her seat once she was certain her mother would not get up again. Louise appeared caught between alarm and amusement but had not said anything. Charlotte's sister preferred to listen to everything before making her conclusion. If she believed Charlotte was unhappy, she would likely insist she come home or give William an earful.

"I'm happy to say that everything has since improved," said Charlotte. "William realized he was wrong and apologized. He explained himself, and I understood why he behaved like he did."

Her mother crossed her arms under her bosom. "What was his excuse for making you unhappy?"

That was the bit Charlotte wasn't prepared to reveal. It was a private matter between her and William.

"William has done nothing but work since he returned home," said Charlotte. "He wants to ensure his family's legacy continues for decades to come. However, he apologized for not prioritizing our marriage and has promised to do better. He even took me on a tour of the house and grounds, and I learned more about him along the way. Our relationship is much better now."

Louise and their mother looked at each other for a moment before they turned to her. They still didn't appear convinced.

"What about the servants?" Louise asked.

"We have all warmed to each other," Charlotte replied. "I think they were worried I would swoop in and change everything. I'm also the youngest mistress they have ever had."

"Those are no excuses at all," her mother said. "It is your prerogative if you want to change everything. I raised and trained you well, so your age should not have been used against you."

Her mother made sense, but everything was now resolved. The last thing she wanted was for her mother to ruin the relationship she had established with the servants.

"I'm happy with how things are, Mama," Charlotte insisted. "Everything is going well. I just wanted to be honest with you."

Her mother sighed and briefly rubbed her temples. "Very well, I believe you," she said. "Let's just have a lovely tea and enjoy our afternoon. But I expect you to immediately tell me if anything goes wrong."

"Yes, Mama," Charlotte replied. "The strawberry cake is delicious. They're from the estate's hothouse. I've been eating bowls of them every day."

"They say strawberries are good for your skin, and you look radiant," Louise commented. "You should give me some."

Charlotte smiled. "I'll have the servants put some away for you. We also have pineapples, but they need to ripen a little more. Why don't I put together a fruit basket from our hothouses to take home?"

"That sounds lovely, dear," her mother said. "Your father would appreciate it. You know how he loves fruit. You and your sister take after him."

They fell into conversation about their father and stories about his obsession with fruit before moving on to many other topics. Charlotte and Louise laughed until their sides hurt while their mother reprimanded them. She smiled as she scolded them, so they didn't take it too seriously. Unfortunately, their afternoon came to an end too soon for Charlotte's liking.

"We have had a wonderful time, dear," her mother said as they walked to the front door. "We must do it again."

"But you must come home for our next tea party," Louise insisted.

"I will," Charlotte promised. "Give Papa my love and tell him he should have come to see me."

"Oh, you know your father," her mother said. "He rarely goes anywhere unless he absolutely has to."

"Yes, Papa would be a hermit if he could," Charlotte agreed.

They reached the front door, where her mother pulled her aside and fiddled with her hair. It was something her mother usually did when she was about to ask something somewhat uncomfortable.

"Tell me, dear," she began. "Have you and His Grace, erm, been intimate since your wedding? I only ask because you had some communication problems, but is everything resolved now? I can give you some advice to—"

Charlotte quickly shook her head, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. "There is no need for advice, Mama," she insisted. "William and I have decided to just be friends and get to know each other. I want this relationship to last and to be happy."

Her mother nodded. "Of course, dear. Just do not take too long. A man has needs."

" Mama ," Charlotte cried.

"I speak from experience, dear," her mother said. "But you know what is best for you."

Charlotte nodded, although she wasn't entirely confident she knew what was best for her.