Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

W hen Charlotte Whitmore considered herself, she liked to imagine words such as ‘considerate’ and ‘kind.’ Those were words her parents would have used when they were alive. Not ‘hesitant.’ Not ‘avoidant.’

And yet, here she was. Hesitant. Cautious. Mending something she had avoided for the last year.

At least I had an excuse to mourn. But now, there is nothing. I’m twenty years of age and I still have not come out into Society. Although I’d appreciate nothing more than a ramble through the woods and a good book, it’s time I grew up. Cousin Eleanor is right. My godmother deserves this visit.

She inhaled deeply and knocked on the door of a stunning London mansion not far from Buckingham Palace. The structure must have been standing here for a long time. Years upon years upon years.

She blinked, craning her neck in curiosity. Were those Doric columns? She could never remember them compared to Ionic.

“Welcome to Bradford House.” She jumped back at the friendly voice of an older butler now standing in the open doorway. “You must be Lady Charlotte Whitmore, goddaughter of the Dowager Duchess of Bradford. You’re right on time, My Lady. Do come in.”

“Oh, I… thank you.” Charlotte couldn’t remember if she was supposed to curtsy to the staff. She managed a hasty nod before stepping inside. “I did arrive sooner, but I was worried about being too early. I’ve just been admiring the house.”

Her eyes wandered over the impeccable interior. Having never come here before, she hardly knew where to look first. The colorful wallpaper, the beautiful paintings, and the stunning staircase were all too grand.

I suppose I am used to my cousins’ home. Their country seat is just lovely. But London is… Well, London is so different and yet so close.

Charlotte could hardly recall the last time she had been in London; most likely, she had been eight years old, just after her mother’s passing and her father had brought her along. It had been noisy and lonely at the time. But then, she’d spent the following eleven years in the country with her father until he passed. After that, she enjoyed living with her cousins during her year of mourning.

“My Lady?”

“Hm? Oh! Oh, right. Here you are.”

She hastily took off her black gloves and bonnet before playing with her summer day dress. It was a lovely shade of lavender. She had read several books with her cousin Eleanor to know what was stylish enough to wear, as she was stepping out of mourning days.

“My godmother has not been waiting for long, has she?”

The butler chuckled. He was a friendly-looking fellow of older years, perhaps her father’s age or so, with curling white hair and a generous smile. Though his nose was large, his uniform was well-pressed and he moved with a graceful ease as he led her down the hall.

“Her Grace waits for as long as she desires,” was all he said. “Right this way. We’ve just re-opened the solarium, and she thought you might enjoy the sunlight here. Here you are, My Lady.”

“Don’t believe a word that man says,” came a familiar commanding voice. Up stood the Dowager Duchess with pursed lips and a sparkle in her eyes. She played with her fan before pointing it at him. “You flatterer. You picked this room, and I will not take credit for such a thing. Come in, Charlotte. Goodness, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. Let me look at you.”

Charlotte moved unsteadily into the room. She licked her lips before forcing a smile.

The butler nodded with a comforting smile before he stepped away.

Charlotte heard the door click shut behind her. That was hardly comforting, but she stepped further into the room all the same.

The Dowager Duchess was on the move, her dress swishing as she hastened around Charlotte with her pointed nose and sharp eyes. She was like a ferret, sniffing out her next prize.

Charlotte braced herself. She and Eleanor’s maid had spent all morning putting together her ensemble and styling her hair so there would be no complaint.

The Dowager Duchess was an emblem of London Society. She spent most of her time in the city with her friends—other grand matrons of the ton. They demanded perfect presentation. Charlotte had held her off as long as she could, but it seemed the time had come for them to talk once again.

“You’re too thin,” the Dowager Duchess announced before she returned to her cushioned seat and sat down. Picking up the spectacles from around her neck, she raised an eyebrow at Charlotte. “Do take a seat, my dear. You are not a statute on display. Is your uncle not feeding you well? I don’t know what they have out in the country. Nothing but pig’s blood, I suppose.”

Charlotte moved to a nearby chair, smoothed her skirts, and answered in a measured tone, “I do believe pig’s blood may be used in various recipes, but none of which I know or use. I appreciate your good humor on such a cloudy day, Your Grace. I also trust you are in good hands?”

“Of course, I am,” the older woman responded smartly. “I always am. You are clever, aren’t you? And already twenty without a single Season. Well, I’ve had it. I’ve given you long enough to make a choice you refuse to, and this is what is going to happen. First, you will call me Lady Theodosia or Lady Cluett if we’re in front of someone I detest. Secondly, you will spend the Season here with me. Thirdly, you will allow me to help you on the next great adventure of your life—finding a husband.”

The woman wasted no time at all bringing up the topic that Charlotte had half-heartedly hoped would be forgotten.

She kept the smile on her face, the one she had practiced just for the Dowager Duchess, as she digested what was just said. The first request was simple enough although intimidating. The second request felt impossible. And the third wasn’t even an option.

“I…” She licked her lips and tried again. The fluttering in her stomach wouldn’t stop.

Charlotte shifted in her seat and blinked several times. This wasn’t the comfortable receiving room she had gotten used to over the past year, but a strange room where she couldn’t find anything familiar.

“Lady Theodosia, we have discussed this already, have we not?”

“We have.” The Dowager Duchess tilted her head and squinted at her. “You are mourning your father still. I see the grief in your eyes. It has been a year, but sometimes it feels as though it was only a day.”

Charlotte’s mouth dropped open before it shut—how could the woman read her so well?

They’d met only a handful of times before––mostly in the last year––but the Dowager Duchess seemed to understand her better than herself.

“I suppose you are correct. Yes, I miss my father.”

It had been the two of them for most of her life. Charles Whitmore, the late Earl of Stanton, had been a wonderful man. Bookish and optimistic, he’d raised Charlotte to follow her passions and enjoy herself. As glad as she was that he had passed peacefully after a long illness, his loss had left her alone. She eventually went to live with her cousins and her uncle, a duke himself. The family was loving, but they were distracted with their own lives.

She particularly adored her younger cousin by two years, Eleanor, but the woman could play the piano all day and forget the entire world. Including Charlotte.

Could she really reside here in London? Admittedly, she had hoped to visit the grand city. And a Season was guaranteed to be wonderful.

But now she shook her head. “I cannot dream of asking you to be so generous, Godmother. It wouldn’t be right. I’m happy in the country, and I wouldn’t be properly prepared. I don’t want to embarrass you.”

“Nothing can embarrass me,” Theodosia said with her nose in the air. “Utter balderdash, darling. Besides, I can prepare you. If I grow bored, we’ll find you tutors. And for a crowning achievement, you’re not asking—I’m telling you. You should have known this would happen sooner rather than later. If you were any smarter, you would have already started packing. I have it all planned out, Charlotte. I’m going to take very good care of you.”

“I’m really not certain. It’s still so soon,” Charlotte started. “What if I don’t wish to have a Season? Or even a husband?”

Her godmother was undeterred. “Don’t be ridiculous, darling. Husbands may be foolish, but they have their use. You’ll see in time. Come now, you know it’s time. I was appointed to care for you after your father’s passing. He wanted you to take your place in London Society, and you have had your year to mourn. Any more you wish to do, you can do here.”

“Well, I…” Every defense was being broken down.

Theodosia smiled. She was a brittle little thing, truth be told. Shorter than Charlotte and thin as a tree branch. It looked like anything might very well knock her down. The five-feathered large turban on her head didn’t help, nor did her clinking bracelets. But when she smiled, her eyes widened and her cheeks gained some color.

Just thinking of wiping that smile off the older woman’s face hurt Charlotte’s heart.

It’s only one Season. There’s no guarantee I’ll marry or learn anything. Perhaps I can do this for a little while, just to please her.

“Yes, Godmother,” Charlotte said, at last. She found herself smiling as well. “I appreciate your generosity. Thank you. I suppose it is time for a new adventure. At least for a short while.”

“The time will fly, trust me. Now, I’ve got a carriage ready to take you back so you can start collecting your things. You may have tomorrow for packing—but I’m expecting you this Friday. Eat your biscuits, darling. There is a long journey ahead of you.”

Indeed, there would be.

Charlotte smiled and ate a biscuit to avoid saying anything. Her father always said there was a rebellious streak in her, one she tried her best to suppress in moments like this.

Surely this would all work out. She would have a Season. If she needed to, she could always return to her cousins in the country. Attempting to lift her spirits, she smiled at her godmother and tried to imagine all the excitement that might come her way.

Glittering ballrooms, delicious luncheons, and new friends. I’m sure this will all work out. I can finally enjoy London. As for a husband… we shall forget all about that. I’ll do as my godmother wishes for the next Season before I settle neatly in the country as I always wanted.