CHAPTER FIVE

“A nd I told Mrs. Whittledon that she would probably see a lot more of the Fenwick crest outside our house, since we are so well acquainted with the family now.”

Charlotte grimaced at Mama’s retelling of the same story even now, two days later. When she’d returned from skating, Mama had been in fine form, still up in the boughs about the fact that the Earl of Fenwick had been here.

She’d told every servant at least twice, as though they didn’t have eyes of their own. Then she’d told Papa who could absolutely not have cared less.

And then, she’d spent the entirety of that evening’s dinner grilling Charlotte for every, miniscule detail of her afternoon. Charlotte had left out the nasty encounter with Miss Tract having learned that it was best not to seek sympathy from her mother about these situations. Mama had never listened when Charlotte had cried over the constant humiliation and rejection, merely told her that they’d have to weather it until it got better.

This, Mama had decided, was officially better. They were now in the sphere of a peer of the realm. And it didn’t matter that they were on the very, very outside of that sphere. She would use this to every conceivable advantage.

“I have made no new plans with the Fenwick family, Mama,” Charlotte reminded her but it was no use. She simply wasn’t listening.

“And what do you suppose?” Mama continued.

Charlotte looked toward the head of the breakfast table where Papa had had his head buried in his papers all morning. Mama had been directing this little tale to him as though he were responding or even listening. But of course he wasn’t. He never did.

“She has invited us to call upon her this afternoon,” Mama crowed triumphantly. “Dear?”

When father didn’t respond, Mama merely rolled her eyes and settled all her attention on Charlotte. “You’ve done it, my dear. You’ve finally gotten it right.”

How lovely, Charlotte thought wryly, though she didn’t say anything in her defense.

“Now, we shall have to make sure you are in one of your finest gowns. Mrs. Whittledon is very good friends with Lady Thornton. Which means she might be there. And if she’s there, we might get an invitation to her musicale next week.”

Charlotte didn’t care about Mrs. Whittledon’s At Home. And she didn’t care about Lady Thornton’s musicale. But keeping Mama happy meant a little peace and quiet which she very much cared about.

“Now, Charlotte. Run upstairs and have Sally press your champagne silk. Who knows, there might even be a gentleman there who’s eye you catch. Hurry along.”

Charlotte sighed and did as she was bid. She was halfway up the stairs when a knock sounded at the front door.

It was early for callers and even if it wasn’t, the Forresters never got callers anymore.

Curiosity had Charlotte pausing on the staircase waiting to see who had come.

The door opened and immediately a smile broke out. The distinctive sound of twin chatterboxes rang through the echoey foyer and Charlotte hurried back down the stairs to greet Joanna and Harriet as they bustled inside.

“Good morning, Charlotte,” they said brightly in unison.

“Good morning, Lady Harriet, Lady Joanna,” she said earning herself scoffs and insistence that she forgo the titles.

“We know it’s early,” Joanna said. “Far too early for callers, really. But we have the most wonderful plan that we simply had to share with you.”

“In secret,” Harriet whispered, comically loud.

Charlotte turned her head to peer down the hallway. If Mama heard the Fenwick twins had called she’d probably lock them in the house until she could scrounge up a witness.

“Here,” she whispered, signaling for them to follow her into the small receiving room off the foyer.

Once inside, she closed the door and turned to face the beaming twins. “Please tell me you are not busy a week from now,” Joanna started.

Charlotte scoffed. “I’m never busy,” she answered ruefully. “Though I am being dragged to Mrs. Whittledon’s this afternoon and, if Mama has her way, Lady Thornton’s musicale next week sometime.”

The twins stared blankly at her for a moment before Harriet roused herself. “I don’t know who those people are, but it doesn’t matter. Yesterday, Joanna and I were shopping on Bond Street.”

“And we met the most charming gentlemen.”

“One of them is an Venetian conte. So sophisticated. I was quite breathless.”

“Hmm. The other is unfortunately only English. But still, quite entertaining.”

“Anyway, they have invited us to join them at the Pleasure Gardens. It sounds so beautiful, Charlotte. They’ve told us all about the Chinese lanterns in the Mediterranean gardens. You simply must come. They’re getting a group together.”

“Oh, um.” Charlotte didn’t know what to say. She’d dreamed of the evenings she could attend the likes of Vauxhall and Ranelagh but it had never come to pass. Still, she wasn’t sure about attending with these strange men who would impress themselves upon two young ladies they’d never met. “I’m surprised your brother has given you permission for this,” she hedged.

The twins shared a meaningful look.

“He is attending his club that night with an old friend. And, well, we thought it prudent to keep these particular plans from Jasper.”

“For his own good, really. It’s not good for him to be worrying so much all the time.”

“Yes, keeping it a secret is for him.”

“For his health.”

“Yes, his health.”

Charlotte raised a dubious brow at the girls. They couldn’t possibly think that she would believe they were trying to sneak off to the pleasure gardens with an Venetian comte and his less exciting English counterpart for the sake of their brother’s health.

But they were looking so beseechingly at her. And they were the first people who’d shown her true kindness in so long.

Besides, she would never dream of tattling on them but she still felt a little protective and wouldn’t like them going alone. Heaving a sigh she feigned a long-suffering pout. “Very well,” she said. “I shall come.”

The twins squealed and embraced her, but she wasn’t done yet.

“I have a condition,” she said sternly.

“Anything,” Joanna immediately answered.

“You must leave a note for your brother. One that he will find when he returns from his dinner.”

She could see that the twins were building up to a rejection of her plan but she barreled on nonetheless. “Imagine how concerned he would be to return from his evening and find you both missing. A little note saying that you’d been invited out with some new friends and would return soon will set his mind at ease, will it not? Otherwise he’ll have the Runners after you.”

“Hmm, that does sound like something Jasper would do,” Harriet admitted. It was her turn to sigh. “Very well, we will leave your precious note. Now, what are you doing this morning? Would you like to walk with us to the Tea Rooms? We’re going to discuss which gowns to wear to the Gardens.”

“Oh, well I supposed to see to a gown for –“ Charlotte trailed off. She knew Mama would insist on being at Mrs. Whittledon’s the second the clock struck calling hours. But that was still ages from now. And all she had to look forward to between now and the was Mama’s fussing. She still wasn’t convinced that going to the Gardens was a good idea but spending the morning with her friends talking about fashions wasn’t something she wanted to pass up.

“Stay here lest Mama accost you,” she instructed, hurrying to the door. “I’ll be back soon.”

***

T wo hours and copious amounts of mini confections later, Charlotte was suitably convinced that visiting the Gardens was a wonderful idea.

The twins’ excitement was infectious and she couldn’t help but think that had her life gone the way it was supposed to, had Jane not fallen in love with someone other than her fiancé, had she not been brave enough to take her life into her own hands and forging her own path, this could have been Charlotte’s path.

A normal life. A Come Out. Courtships. Friends and parties and exciting plans with exciting gentlemen. Instead she straggled on the peripheral, begging for scraps of acceptance. Or at least she would be, if Mama got her way. She’d never quite managed to prostrate herself enough for Mama’s liking.

Now though she’d made some real friends.

“Will you come to Bond Street with us?” Harriet asked.

“Bond Street? Weren’t you just there this morning?”

“Yes,” Joanna answered. “But Harriet saw a bonnet in the milliner’s that she decided she wanted. Then she decided she didn’t want it. So of course, now she wants it again.”

“I would love to join you,” Charlotte answered sincerely. “But Mama has bid me to call on Mrs. Whittledon with her this afternoon.”

Harriet rolled her eyes. “Oh, Charlotte. Let your Mama go and visit with her stuffy old friends. Come shopping with us. Jasper is to meet us at that wonderful bookshop by the corner in a while. We’ll make sure he escorts you home so your mother won’t be cross.”

“Yes, please come. We shall see if they have that scandalous novel that has everyone on their ears.”

“And of course you must come to the fair along the Thames with us tomorrow. It is supposed to be quite the sight.”

“There are acrobats and jugglers and all sorts. And we shall buy hot cider and eat roasted chestnuts and see if we can’t find our new, Venetian friend.”

Charlotte had spent every day since Jane’s elopement trying to live her life by Mama’s rules and standards. Perhaps it was time she lived by her own.

“Very well,” she answered with a grin. “Tell me more about this book.”