Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

" I must say, I do so much enjoy dancing." Charlotte tried to smile, knowing that she would be entirely unable to reply to Lord Templeton, given that she was being forced to concentrate on the dance. When he had first asked her for her dance card, he had not been in his cups nor had he shown any inclination towards imbibing, given that he had refused to take a glass when it had been offered to him. Now, however, he had clearly drunk a little too much whisky and was flailing a little, his steps narrowly missing her feet on occasion, and his hands slipping much too quickly from hers. "You are quite beautiful, I must say, though a little too quiet for my liking," Lord Templeton continued, grabbing her around the waist, his hand tightening there painfully. "I do hope that you are happy dancing with me? After all, I am one of the most sought-after gentlemen here in London."

"Of course."

It was all Charlotte could say, and she was relieved when his hand fell from her waist as they separated again. Praying silently that the orchestra would not play for too much longer, she gritted her teeth and continued on with the dance, vowing never to dance with Lord Templeton again.

"Alas, our dance must come to an end!"

Lord Templeton grabbed her hand and made to bow over it as the music slowed, only for him to lean a little too far forward, lose his balance, and plunge forward. With a gasp, Charlotte side-stepped him quickly, pulling her hand away just as he careered past her, only for something to rip.

Her eyes closed, mortification creeping up over her as she saw others looking at her, perhaps aware of what had just taken place.

"Charlotte, do walk with me." Without warning, Lillian took her arm and led her from the floor, her head held high and a light smile on her face. Charlotte, certain that her face was very red indeed, struggled to project the same confidence. "I saw what Lord Templeton did," Lillian murmured, out of the corner of her mouth. "Are you all right?"

Charlotte, touched by her sister's concern, nodded.

"I am, though my gown is torn at the hem."

"There are bound to be maids ready to assist us," Lillian answered, determinedly. "Goodness, Charlotte, what a thing to have happen!"

Looking at her sister as Lillian stopped briefly to inform their mother of what had happened and what they now intended to do, Charlotte felt her heart warm, despite the embarrassment. This was the first time in a long time that Lillian had shown her such consideration, and Charlotte appreciated it a great deal. After reassuring her mother that she was not injured, Charlotte followed Lillian, hoping that very few of the ton would notice her ripped gown.

"You are very kind to be so considerate," Charlotte said, as they stepped out into the hallway. "Had you not come to take me away, I am sure that I would have been broken with mortification!"

"You are my sister, Charlotte," came the reply, as Lillian turned to the left, walking down one of the hallways which, Charlotte thought, did not look particularly well lit. "I care for you. Besides which, you do not often dance, and I did not want you to be discouraged from stepping out again, simply because of the foolishness of one gentleman! It is good for me and for you, that you should be seen dancing."

Charlotte's smile was a little rueful as she understood the reasons for her sister's sympathy and support. Yes, she did care for Charlotte's situation, and did not want her to be embarrassed but, at the same time, saw the advantage in having Charlotte dancing. It would detract from the view that society might otherwise have of her as being quiet and reserved which, in turn, might encourage the gentlemen of London to consider them both with interest.

"I am not certain that this is the right way," Lillian murmured, coming to a stop. "Mama told me that there was a room just down the hallway and–"

"She might have been speaking of the other hallway," Charlotte pointed out, quite certain that the dark hallway with only one or two candles was not where they were meant to go. "Might you go to look, Lillian? I do not want to make my way there for nothing, for fear that someone will see the state of my gown."

Her sister nodded.

"Of course. If I find the parlor where the maids are, I will come to fetch you. It might be best if you remain here for a few minutes. I will be as quick as I can be."

"Thank you, Lillian."

Smiling, Charlotte watched her sister hurry away, finding her spirits lifting as she did so. Lillian was so very different in nature to her and yet, despite that, there was still a bond between them; a bond which Charlotte did not always feel, or even sense but, during moments like this, it was a comfort. Turning back to the hallway, she began to meander slowly along it, straying not too far from where Lillian had left her. The music and laughter from the ballroom still echoed towards her, but Charlotte slowly grew to appreciate the quietness surrounding her. She still did not particularly enjoy balls and the like, and though Lillian was eager for her to dance again, inwardly, Charlotte knew that she would prefer to stay back from it all.

A slight frown darted across her forehead as she recalled seeing – and hearing – Lord Kentmore's conversation with one lady whom Charlotte had not been acquainted with. She had not overheard everything that he had been saying, but the parts she had overheard simply by standing near him, had been very flirtatious indeed. It was quite clear to Charlotte that Lord Kentmore and that lady had been hopeful of some kind of encounter, and that Lord Kentmore was eager to facilitate it. She had found her stomach tightening, her heart thumping hard against her chest as she had overheard them, and was a little surprised at the flush of jealousy that had rushed through her. She had quickly broken apart that reaction into tiny pieces and thrown it aside, refusing to let it linger, and finding that she felt nothing but disgust at the notion. She did not want to have Lord Kentmore's interest pushed towards her! And nor did she want him to consider her with any sort of interest. As far as she was concerned, that gentleman was nothing but someone to be avoided.

Just as that thought came and went, the door near where she was standing opened and a figure stepped out. Charlotte's breath caught in her throat, and she made to back away, only for strong arms to grasp her tightly, hauling her against a very solid figure indeed.

Suddenly, she couldn't breathe.

"There you are! And here I was thinking that you had abandoned me."

Charlotte opened her mouth to say that she had no knowledge of what he meant, trying to ask him to remove his hands from her, only for his head to descend and his lips to press against hers.

At that moment, everything shifted. It felt as though the ground was no longer solid beneath her feet, and her heart was pounding furiously as a wonderful sense of heat and fire burned through her. She was helpless against him, her need to step away vanishing into smoke as he held her tight, his embrace filling her with a sense of such astonishment and delight that she did not ever want it to fade.

"Charlotte? I think that we have come the wrong way. I – oh, good gracious!"

Lillian's voice seemed to come from very far away, though the moment that her voice broke through the empty space, the gentleman dropped his hands and backed away as though he had burned himself. Charlotte, dizzy and blinking furiously, looked at him, trying to make out his face, but the shadows kept that from her. Heat filled her all over again but, this time, it came from a sense of shame that she had ever let herself be so foolish as to let a gentleman – a stranger, no doubt – kiss her!

"I – I beg your pardon," the gentleman stammered, his voice sounding vaguely familiar. "I–"

"Whatever were you doing to my sister?" Lillian rushed close to Charlotte, one hand going around her shoulders. Charlotte shook her head wordlessly, wanting her sister to say nothing more, to draw back rather than push forward. The words stuck in her throat, her mortification binding her lips closed as she battled a sudden surge of tears. Whatever had she been thinking?

"It was nothing short of a mistake, I assure you. You must forgive me." A slight pause followed, only for the gentleman to speak again, his voice more fervent this time. "Please, forgive me. I will take my leave of you now and–"

"I hardly think so!" Lillan began to stride forward but Charlotte reached out and caught her arm, trying to pull her back. "This is disgraceful!"

Charlotte's heart pounded.

"It was a mistake, Lillian." Her heart slammed hard against her ribs, fear beginning to take hold of her now. This matter could be easily dealt with, she considered. She did not know who this gentleman was and, no doubt, he did not know who she truly was, given the darkness of the hallway. All she needed to do was leave and the matter would be at an end. "Come, we should return to the ball. I–"

Lillian pulled her arm away.

"Just who are you?" Free from Charlotte's grasp, Lillian walked across to the other side of the hallway, picked up one of the nearby candlesticks, and brought it close to the gentleman in question. Charlotte closed her eyes, hearing her sister's exclamation. There was no escaping this now. Lillian had taken the decision from her, it seemed, determined to discover who this fellow was, despite Charlotte's urge to return to the ballroom. Silence filled the hallway for a moment and, despite her uncertainty, Charlotte's heart pulled apart with two equally strong desires – the desire to know who this gentleman was, who had kissed her with such passion, and the desire to set it all aside and return to the ballroom, pretending that nothing had happened. "Charlotte, it is Lord Kentmore!"

Unable to prevent a strangled exclamation breaking from her lips, Charlotte took a step backward, one hand to her heart. Lord Kentmore? Her mind began to whirl, dizziness coursing through her as she swallowed hard, her other hand going to her lips. Lord Kentmore, the rogue, the scoundrel, had been the one to kiss her? There was nothing worse than this, she considered, nothing more dreadful than learning that it had been he who had clasped her in his arms.

"As I have said, this was nothing but a mistake. I can do nothing else other than beg your forgiveness. Please, permit me to take my leave so that nothing more occurs."

Lord Kentmore's voice was filled with a desperation that Charlotte could well understand, and she forced herself to step forward, trying to take hold of her sister before she could do any more.

Again, Lillian was more determined than she was.

"Do not think for a single moment that I will let you walk away from my sister after what I just witnessed. My sister's reputation is utterly ruined, and you will do as you ought, Lord Kentmore."

No. Tears welled up in Charlotte's eyes, seeing what Lillian meant and shrinking back from it.

"Lillian, wait."

Her voice was only a whisper, making no impact upon her stubborn sister.

"Well?"

Lillian's singular word was directed at Lord Kentmore. Charlotte took a breath.

"Lillian, please."

Instantly, Lillian waved one hand in Charlotte's direction, barely turning to glance at her.

"Charlotte, you must be silent." Her voice echoed back towards her, holding a greater strength than Charlotte had ever imagined her sister would possess. "Lord Kentmore?"

There came another moment of silence, only for the gentleman's voice to break through.

"Very well."

No, I cannot!

The threatening tears fell to Charlotte's cheeks, her strength gone from her as her shoulders rounded, her head falling low. Deep down, she knew that Lillian was quite right to do as she was doing, but all the same, Charlotte wished that she had not said a word. No one had seen them, no other person from society had witnessed them in that embrace, had they?

Not that you know of, at least, said a quiet voice in her mind. What if someone has seen you and is now waiting to see who will emerge from the hallway, ready to whisper it through the ton? Then what will you do?

"If I must, then I will betrothe myself to… well, to whoever you are."

"You mean, you do not know?" The laughter that came from Lillian clashed hard against Charlotte's despair and confusion. "My dear Lord Kentmore, you are now courting – for I do not think it would be possible to betrothe yourself immediately without questions being asked." She cleared her throat. "As I was saying, you are now courting my sister, Miss Charlotte Hawick." He did not even know it was I. Charlotte closed her eyes and released a slow, calming breath, though it did nothing to quieten the frantic beating of her heart. Through all of this, Lord Kentmore had not known for a moment that it was she whom he had been kissing and was now betrothed to. For a moment, she wondered what his reaction was. She was still unable to make out his features but was quite certain that it would be just as she felt – dismay, dread, and darkness. "And you will betrothe yourself to her very soon, else all of the ton shall know of what you have done," Lillian stated, her voice and stance speaking of nothing other than sheer determination, forcing Lord Kentmore and Charlotte into this situation though, Charlotte had to admit, there was wisdom in what her sister was insisting upon. "Now, do excuse me, Lord Kentmore, as I take my sister to go and speak with our father. He will have to know all, and I am sure that he will wish to speak with you, very soon."

Charlotte did not move, watching as Lillian turned on her heel and came back directly towards her. Lillian smiled gently, her eyes shining with a strange light that Charlotte could not quite understand.

"Come, Charlotte." Putting one arm around Charlotte's shoulders, she made to turn her around, made to walk her away from Lord Kentmore, but Charlotte remained fixed to where she stood, her whole body suddenly hot and filled with a dreadful fear. Yes, she knew that this was what should be expected of a gentleman who had done such a thing – albeit without recognizing that it was she he had been kissing, and not the lady he had expected – but the realization that she would soon be his wife, the wife of the dreadful rogue who was the Marquess of Kentmore, made her heart shudder.

"I – I do not want this."

Lillian shook her head, letting out a snort as her hand fell from Charlotte's shoulder, only instead to grasp her wrist.

"My dear sister, whether you want it or not, this is what must happen. You are going to be the Marchioness of Kentmore, Charlotte! What could be better than that?"

"The thought is a dreadful one to me," Charlotte whispered, staggering slightly as Lillian forcibly pulled at her wrist and tugged her away. "Lord Kentmore is a rogue, Lillian! He was, no doubt, expecting someone else to join him - and this is the gentleman that you wish me to accept?"

"It is not I who wishes you to accept him," Lillian answered, as they made their way back down the hallway. "It is because you must, that is all. The ton will expect it."

Charlotte shook her head, a slight weakness coming into her frame as her sister led her back towards the ballroom.

"No one from the ton is aware of it, Lillian!"

"You cannot be sure of that." Her sister stopped suddenly, turning to face Charlotte and releasing her wrist. "Charlotte, this is an excellent match, if only you would see it. You are to be a Marchioness! That means that your standing will be increased dramatically, that your wealth and–"

"None of that matters to me." Charlotte closed her eyes briefly, putting one hand to her forehead, her whole body feeling fatigued and heavy. "Tell me, Lillian, that you did not insist upon this simply because of the hope that your own standing would be improved?" She opened her eyes, but her sister said nothing, looking back at Charlotte with a slight wariness in her expression. "Lillian." Charlotte's voice grew hoarse. "I cannot do this simply because you want to improve your standing and your chances of finding a higher titled gentleman to wed you."

"That is one of the benefits of what must take place, I will admit that," Lillian answered, with a sniff, "but I have insisted upon it because, as you well know, it is what must be done. You cannot pretend that all is well, Charlotte! The gentleman kissed you! I saw you, yes, but there is no certainty that there was no one else present. What if the lady he was meant to be with appeared and saw the same thing, perhaps listening in the shadows for your name? What then?"

A shiver ran down Charlotte's spine.

"I – I do not think that would be very likely."

"But you cannot say for certain." Charlotte shook her head, wordlessly. "Then it still stands," Lillain answered, firmly. "Now, we will go to have your gown repaired and then–"

"I am going to go home."

Lillian blinked at her.

"What?"

"I must retire. There is too much for me to think about, too much for me to consider, for me to simply return to the ballroom and pretend all is well." Charlotte's voice was thick with tears, her heart aching terribly. "You might very well be delighted at all of this, Lillian, but I am not. Instead, I am broken-hearted."

Her sister frowned, clearly having very little understanding as to what it was that Charlotte felt.

"I will take the carriage and then have it return here," Charlotte continued, turning away from her sister, praying that she would make it to the carriage without a single tear falling. "Tell Mama that I have a headache or some such thing. Pray, do not tell them anything of Lord Kentmore. I will do so myself, when tomorrow comes."

There were no words of comfort, no gentle understanding or sympathy from her sister in response to this. Instead, with a shrug, Lillian turned away and made her way back to the ballroom. Charlotte, her eyes stinging, went quickly to the door of the house, asking one of the footmen to find her carriage. As she stood there in the dark, her arms wrapped around herself, Charlotte closed her eyes and dropped her head, no longer able to hold back her tears. Her entire world had shattered in one moment, and her shame and mortification burnt so hot that it felt as though it would slice right through her. Had she not given in to the kiss, had she not lost herself in delight and wonder, then none of this would have happened. She would have disentangled herself from Lord Kentmore's embrace long before Lillian had appeared and would, thereafter, have been kept quite free of him. She would not now find herself practically betrothed to the fellow, would not have her future set and determined.

All was now black and broken before her and yet, it was a path that Charlotte had no choice but to walk.