Chapter 1

Chapter One

" M ust you always be reading?"

Charlotte, already irritated by her sister's presence, looked up.

"It is not whether I must or not. It is whether I desire to or not."

"And yet, you always appear to desire to do so." Lillian sighed and sat down in the chair opposite Charlotte, rolling her eyes as though Charlotte had done something wrong in choosing to read. "Must you be so dull? We shall never find husbands if you pull back from society."

"Given that you are a year older than I, and are expected to find a husband first, I hardly think that my reading is a concern of yours," Charlotte answered, a little hotly given her increasing frustration. "You may prefer dances and soirees and the like, but I do not."

Her sister yawned widely and then rolled her eyes for a second time.

"You would be much better spending time out in society rather than sitting at home with a book or playing the pianoforte. I did hear Mama say that she was greatly surprised that you did not want to attend the fashionable hour yesterday."

Charlotte scowled, setting her book aside.

"But if my mother did not see the need to force me to attend, then I am surprised that you think you must speak to me about it. What difference does it make to you if I read? Why should you be concerned if I prefer to practice the pianoforte rather than wander around the park during the fashionable hour?"

"Because," her sister replied, spreading out her hands and speaking slowly as though Charlotte was foolish in her lack of understanding, "it bears an influence upon our family. When a gentleman considers a lady, they do consider the entire family which includes you, my dear sister. If you are a quiet mouse of a creature, then the gentlemen of London might think that I am the same, and will never consider me because of it."

Now it was Charlotte's turn to roll her eyes.

"I am certain that such a thing would never be, given that it is clear from the very first moment of introduction to you that you are… eager in your conversation and the like, Lillian."

This made her sister scowl, her brow furrowing.

"Do you mean to say that I am overeager? Improper, somehow?"

Charlotte quickly shook her head, though inwardly, she considered how her sister had behaved of late. They had only attended two balls and one soiree as yet, but Lillian had been most fervent in her hopes of becoming acquainted with as many gentlemen as she could. Every time that one had drawn near, Lillian had dropped into a curtsy without so much as a word of introduction, obvious in her hope that this gentleman would then be impressed with her propriety and would come to speak with her. That, however, had not occurred. Once their mother, Viscountess Morton, had bade Lillian to stop that behavior, Lillian had then gone on to speak with far too much eagerness when new acquaintances had been made. Indeed, Charlotte had found herself feeling a little sorry for the gentlemen who had come to speak with them, for they had struggled to get a word in anywhere!

"I am much better in society than you shall ever be," Lillian declared, haughtily. "I may be fervent in my desire to speak to the gentlemen and ladies of London, but it is better to be so than to hide yourself away and appear of little interest to anyone!"

Charlotte tried not to say anything in response, even though her heart twisted painfully at her sister's description of her. To Charlotte's mind, she was not in the least bit dull but, evidently, Lillian herself thought so. She closed her eyes for a moment as she took a long breath and then turned her attention back to her book, hearing Lillian's huff of breath. Ignoring this, Charlotte tried to concentrate on what she was reading but the words did not seem to make sense to her. Over and over again, she read the same sentence before, finally, giving up.

"Is there a reason that you are here with me, Lillian?" she asked, pointedly, as her sister rolled one curl lightly around her finger and then released it. "Is there some reason that you are sitting with me instead of preparing yourself for afternoon calls?"

"I am ready," Lillian answered, gesturing with her other hand toward Charlotte. "You, however, appear to have chosen one of your oldest and least interesting gowns from your wardrobe. Do you not see that yellow is a color that does not suit you? Your hair is much too fair for that. Instead, you ought to choose something that makes a gentleman notice your hair color, which then might let his gaze stray to your eyes."

Charlotte closed her eyes.

"Lillian, please. I am quite contented in what I am wearing, I assure you."

"But it is not suitable!"

The door opened just as Lillian finished speaking, and their mother swept into the room, her gaze going straight to Lillian.

"What is not suitable, my dear?"

Lillian gestured to Charlotte directly, one hand sweeping downwards.

"The gown she is wearing! It is not in the least bit suitable, for the gentlemen who will come to call will not think well of her at all! That color makes her appear sickly, does it not? I think that a gown of ivory, or mayhap of light blue, might do a good deal better."

Charlotte said nothing, her gaze going to her mother, who was looking at her with what Charlotte took to be sympathy lingering in her gaze. It seemed that the Viscountess was very much aware of the difference between her daughters and was not particularly pleased with all that Lillian was saying.

"I think that Lillian, while you may be correct in suggesting that the color of gown that Charlotte wears is not ideal, given her complexion and fair curls, you have not chosen the best way to say such things," came the reply, making Charlotte's shoulders round just a little, somewhat disappointed that her mother was agreeing with Lillian. "Charlotte, if that is the gown that you have chosen, then you need not concern yourself with going to change into something else, even though doing so might be desirable. The afternoon calls will begin soon, we hope, and I am sure that whichever gentlemen come to call, they will not find anything to dislike about either of you." She smiled warmly and Charlotte nodded, though her spirits continued to sink. "Lillian, I presume that you are prepared?"

"Of course I am, Mama," Lillian answered, quickly. "I have spent a great deal of time preparing."

"Very good." Without making any further remark, Lady Morton sat down and then looked directly to Charlotte. "You will have to put your book away when the gentlemen come to call, as we hope they will."

Charlotte nodded.

"I am aware of that, Mama."

"What I have also come to tell you both is that there are to be no interactions with any gentleman who calls himself a rogue, nor whom the ton finds disgraceful in any way, do you understand?"

Lillian drew herself up.

"I should never even think to go near to such a gentleman, Mama! I am surprised that you even need to ask me such a thing."

Lady Morton smiled gently, taking no offense at her daughter's reaction.

"My dear, you are young and na?ve, and I must explain this to you in clear, succinct terms."

Charlotte frowned.

"Explain what, Mama?"

"That the rogues of London do not always appear to be rogues," her mother said, gently. "There are those in London society who seem to be just as every gentleman ought to be. They are polite, well-mannered, and genteel, and will ask you to dance on occasion. However, given the opportunity, they might well try to pull you into their arms, might try to tug you this way and that, and can risk your reputation in doing so."

"But I would never give in," Lillian declared, stoutly, as Charlotte nodded in agreement with her. "I would never permit any gentleman to steal me away from your side when I ought not to."

"Nor would I," Charlotte protested, though their mother only smiled and shook her head.

"My dears, you say such a thing at this moment, but you cannot know for certain. What if that gentleman has shown you a great deal of interest? What if his pleas soften your heart? You may say now, at this moment, that you would do nothing, but I can promise you, your heart can be changed very quickly indeed." Rather than protest, Charlotte chose to remain silent and consider what her mother had said, even though her desire was to insist that she would never do such a thing as that. She looked to Lillian who was frowning heavily, clearly determining that she would not allow any gentleman to steal her away but choosing, as Charlotte was doing, to keep that to herself for the time being. "I know of three gentlemen that you must not draw near," their mother continued, still speaking gently. "Lord Remmington, Lord Freetown, and Lord Ponsonby. There are others, I am sure, but for the moment, these three gentlemen are not to be given any of your attention."

"I understand, Mama," Charlotte murmured, as Lillian chimed in with an agreement of her own. "I will be careful."

"Good." Lady Morton took a breath, then settled back a little more in her chair. "Now, all we must do is wait – and hope – that some gentlemen will come to call."

Charlotte glanced at her sister, who was looking at her with a slightly arched eyebrow as though questioning whether or not Charlotte would do as both her mother and Lillian herself had suggested and go to change her gown. With a lift of her chin, Charlotte folded her hands in her lap and gazed back steadily at Lillian, refusing to be moved.

" Please , Charlotte!" Lillian exploded in a sudden fit of emotion, waving her hands around wildly. "This is of the greatest importance to me, and you look so pale that you appear unwell! The gown is not suitable, and you know that you have a good many others in your wardrobe. Why will you not change?"

"I do not need to. This is entirely suitable."

"I am aware that it is suitable, but it does not suit you," Lillain exclaimed, just as the tea tray was brought in and set in front of them. "Please, Charlotte. I am aware that any gentlemen who come to call will be coming to see me rather than you, but all the same–"

"Lillian!" Lady Morton exclaimed as Lillain ducked her head, her cheeks flushing hot. "How could you say such a thing to Charlotte?"

"But you know it is true, Mama," Lillian protested weakly as Charlotte too dropped her gaze, her face hot, though it was with the mortification of being spoken to so, as well as a faint trace of anger which ran through her. "I am not speaking lies."

Lady Morton lifted her chin.

"You cannot tell one gentleman's determinations from another, Lillian," she said firmly, "and nor can you speak with such unkindness! Now, pour the tea and do not say any more of such things. I am displeased with you. If Charlotte wishes to wear that gown, then that is her decision – and if she wishes to read a book rather than attend the fashionable hour, I shall not force the matter. You are both very different creatures and that is quite all right. One is not better than the other, I can assure you, and it is my firm hope that you will each find a gentleman who not only understands the character you are, but also adores everything about you."

Charlotte smiled at her mother, feeling a sense of relief lift her.

"Thank you, Mama. It brings me great relief to know that you value that in me."

Her mother smiled back at her.

"Of course I do."

"Though," Lillian protested, getting up to pour the tea, "that does still mean that Charlotte must consider how to first garner the attention of such gentlemen, does it not?"

Their mother frowned.

"Lillian."

"You know what I mean, Mama," Lillian continued, blithely. "She will not be seen by the gentlemen of London if she does not step out into society!"

"I do step out into society," Charlotte answered, sharply, her anger beginning to rise as Lillian offered her a small, tight smile. "Simply because I do not desire the fashionable hour does not mean that society does not know me."

Lady Morton nodded.

"Precisely."

"But there is also the presentation of our family that Charlotte must consider," Lillian continued, refusing, it seemed, to drop the issue. "To have her so pale and so quiet might make the ton think that we are both of the same dull nature and then they will not come near to me! The least Charlotte could do would be to wear her most complimentary gowns."

Charlotte closed her eyes as anger burned up through her chest.

"Lillian, will you please desist? I am not going to change my gown, despite your protestations. I think that what I am wearing is perfectly suitable and – oh!"

Lillian immediately cried an apology, but it was much too late for that. The cup of tea she had been holding, the one she had been making to set in front of Charlotte, had somehow tipped and the contents had splashed all over Charlotte's gown.

"Lillian! For heaven's sake!" Their mother got to her feet at once, taking Charlotte's hand to pull her up from her chair. "Charlotte, are you quite all right? That tea was very hot."

"I am well," Charlotte answered, her heart pounding as the anger she had felt now began to turn to fury. "Lillian, you did that purposefully!"

"I did nothing of the sort," Lillian exclaimed, her hands going to her hips. "It was an accident, that is all."

"I hardly think so," Charlotte answered, narrowing her eyes. "You were so determined that I should change my gown that you have forced my hand!"

She heard Lillian's protests of innocence but, at the same time, saw the flickering smile that Lillian tried so hard to hide.

"There is nothing to be done but for you to go and change," Lady Morton said, sighing and passing one hand across her eyes. "Lillian, though you have said it was an accident, I must hope that you are speaking the truth." She paused for a moment as if to give Lillian time to announce that no, she had not been telling the truth in stating it had been done accidentally, but Lillian only sat down again in her chair and reached for her teacup. Charlotte's fury rose to even greater heights, and, for a moment, she thought about sitting down again and refusing to move, even with her gown being as it was. "Please, Charlotte," her mother continued, sounding rather weary. "I know that you did not want to do so but please, go and change your gown. The gentlemen callers will be here very soon, and I do not want you to miss any of them."

Charlotte saw the hint of a smile linger on Lillian's face and heard the words whisper back again in her mind.

"I am sure that Lillian can do very well without me," she said, her voice a little hoarse, such was her frustration which, now, was beginning to turn to upset. "Do excuse me."

She did not heed her mother's call, did not listen to the words encouraging her to come back just as soon as she could. Instead, Charlotte picked up her book and hurried from the room, rushing upstairs to her bedchamber where, finally, she found a little solace. The anger she had felt take hold of her when Lillian had first spilled the tea on her gown had quickly faded, leaving Charlotte now with nothing but hot tears and a heart that ached. Yes, she was different from her sister, yes, she was markedly altered in what concerned her as opposed to what concerned Lillian, but did her sister have to take that with such seriousness? Charlotte had never imagined that Lillian's determination to have her change her gown would reach such a fervor!

"I am sure that there will be at least one gentleman who will take note of me," she mumbled, going to ring the bell so that her maid might come to help her change her gown. "Even if I do not particularly care about the color of my gown." Try as she might, Charlotte could not rid herself of the words her sister had said about her, and could not hide the pain that those words had caused. She sat down on the edge of her bed and clutched at her book, closing her eyes and feeling dampness on her lashes. Despite all that Lillian might think, Charlotte did truly want to find herself a suitable match, albeit not in the way that Lillian herself thought to go about things. It was as their mother had said - Charlotte wanted a gentleman who would not only know all about her but would think well of all the different parts of herself that made up her character. She did not ask for, nor even imagine, that love might ever be a part of her future, but all the same, to have someone who would treat her with kindness and appreciation was something she could not set aside. "I want to have a gentleman by my side who will not expect me to be more than I am," she breathed to herself, opening her eyes and wiping away the tears before the maid arrived. "Someone who will value my love of reading, someone who will accept the quietness of my demeanor." Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes again and squeezed them tightly shut, the pain in her heart burning all the more fiercely.

Though mayhap such a thing will never be possible, and I shall end up alone.