Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

I t was midafternoon when Charlotte made it to Havenshire to visit her cousins’ country estate.

As the coach rolled up to the large mansion, she beamed at the familiar sight. The house was quite grand. With four storeys and two spires on either end, it was a stately home built hundreds of years ago and renovated many times. A mix of several architectural styles. She loved the warmth it emanated.

She helped herself out of the coach. As she climbed up the stairs, the front door swung open.

“Charlotte!”

“Eleanor!”

Two years younger and a full head shorter, Eleanor was a wonderful cousin. She was kind and thoughtful, shy in front of all but bubbly around those she liked—Charlotte included. The two of them had been close most of their lives, and they had relied on one another greatly despite their differences.

“Come in, come in. My brothers bought me a harp. Can you believe it? You must come and see it,” Eleanor insisted. “They think they can quiet me with a softer instrument. No matter. It’s absolutely lovely.”

Chuckling, Charlotte allowed herself to be dragged through the house. “You are often as quiet as a mouse. They should be grateful they are granted a show of your talent. Shall I talk to them for you?”

“For them to tease me once you leave? I think not.”

Perhaps I shall not leave at all.

Charlotte managed to keep a smile on her face as Eleanor led the way into the music room. It really was a lovely harp. But her thoughts were scattered, as she could not take her mind off a particularly stubborn duke.

It must be some sort of farce. What can a duke like him do to prepare me for the Season? Besides, it starts in less than a fortnight. He is not that intelligent. He’s merely bored and will be finished with me in a day even if he did try. I suppose I should have tried to rusticate longer in the countryside. What was I thinking, agreeing to my godmother’s request?

“Oh, but I must be boring you,” Eleanor muttered with a heavy sigh after she’d shown her every element of her harp. “You’re going to debut. And you live in London now. How excited you must be for the Season to begin. Aren’t you?” she added, tilting her head.

“I…” Charlotte shifted uncomfortably, her hand going up to her hair only to realize she was still wearing her bonnet.

She had tried to think of a way to confide in her cousin about her conflicted feelings during the coach ride. Four hours and she’d managed not a single intelligent thought. It was rather embarrassing.

Thinking quickly, Charlotte glanced around. “I don’t know, I must confess. It’s… Are your brothers here?”

Her cousin waved an impatient hand. “Whether they are here or are not, it hardly matters. This is the music room, so I doubt we’ll find them anywhere close to this side of the house. Why? What is it? Do you need them?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

After leaving the Duke’s study, Charlotte had been a blur of movement. She had left a letter for her godmother after asking Mr. Lloyd to ready a carriage. It made more sense to stay here tonight because of the distance, but she hadn’t thought about that until it was too late to turn back.

This visit would surely need to be a short one.

But the heavy weight in her chest said something else.

Sighing, Charlotte moved over to a chaise. Her cousin followed, her familiar dark green eyes studying her every move. Eleanor frowned but fell silent as she waited.

Eventually, the truth had to come out.

“I cannot keep it in any longer,” Charlotte announced with a sigh she knew to be twice as dramatic as it needed to be. “This has been so much more than I could have ever predicted. I thought everything would go well. At least, I had hopes. But they have been dashed, Eleanor, by the most peevish, ridiculous, egotistical man I have ever had the displeasure of meeting!”

And off she went, voicing her frustrations, most of which were with the Duke.

She even meant to tell Eleanor about the incident they had just before she stormed out of his study. The way he held her hand and kissed her finger. No matter what gloves she wore or how hard she rubbed the back of her hand, the warmth would not fade. It was as though he had burned her, pierced her. She could not ignore the feeling no matter what she did.

Thankfully, Eleanor was very patient. Ridiculously so. Charlotte’s heart went out to her.

All Eleanor wanted was a quiet, peaceful life, and here was Charlotte coming to her with her problems. Though her family wanted her to have a Season, they hadn’t forced her. She would likely wait another year or two.

While Charlotte was growing eager for her chance, Eleanor had already informed her family that she didn’t care about debuting.

“He sounds like a fool,” Eleanor noted mid-rant.

“He is!” Charlotte huffed. “And now I’m trapped. Can you believe it? I thought I would finally have my freedom, but I traded one cage for another. In the year I spent with you, even frozen in time with mourning, I had the most freedom I’d ever experienced. Now, I fear it is gone.”

Nodding, her cousin reached out to pat her lap. “That is very troublesome. You are always welcome here, you know.”

“I know. I know, Eleanor,” Charlotte added more softly the second time. “Thank you. But—But I don’t know that I want to be here.”

“Then where do you want to be?”

After she gave her cousin’s hand a gentle squeeze, Charlotte admitted, “I don’t know. And that’s very troubling. Silly, isn’t it? I just wish… Well, I wish someone had asked me that earlier. Before now, no one had ever asked me what I wanted. I thought it would be all right, but now I’m trapped because of my own mistakes. It’s awful.”

Perhaps it might not have been so dreadful at some point, but now it feels like a horrifying future. Present, too, if I am forced to spend time with the Duke. We hardly know each other, but we certainly don’t care for each other. How is he supposed to help me when we cannot stand one another?

A shudder went through Charlotte at the thought.

Scooting closer, Eleanor threw her arms around her neck as if she could sense her distress. She probably could. Charlotte sometimes thought her cousin was a saint.

“I’m sorry this is happening. It cannot be enjoyable. But know you are never alone, Charlotte. You are adored, and I am certain everything will work out in time.”

It was difficult to begrudge Eleanor her hope. Charlotte bit her lip to hold back from saying anything unkind. Instead, she hugged her cousin tighter. Eleanor smelled of polish and chrysanthemums—a familiar smell that made Charlotte smile. She melted into the warmth and comfort of the hug before grudgingly pulling away.

“How am I supposed to have a Season without you?” she whined, pouting.

Eleanor wrinkled her nose and pulled away. As she smoothed the wrinkles in her dress, she seemed to weigh her words carefully before opening her mouth.

“You’ll do just fine, Charlotte. I would only slow you down.”

“What? Never.”

“But think of it.” Eleanor shifted to face her entirely. “It may not be easy, but that doesn’t mean it is worthless. Perhaps instead of trouble, this could be an opportunity. Just an unconventional one.”

Unable to help herself, Charlotte snorted. She glanced down to smooth the wrinkles in her own dress. It was easier than looking her cousin in the eye. “That’s rubbish.”

“And if it’s not?” Eleanor persisted. “I know you have talked about avoiding marriage. But consider those ladies who remain unwed. Their lives are much more complicated. Much more lonely. You could change your mind next year or the year after that. To write off something like this so quickly makes me worry that you’re running faster than your legs can carry you. Maybe someday you will want to marry. You should take this as an opportunity to try and see if anything––or anyone––might change your mind.”

So she is basically saying that I should do it. I should let Adrian help me find a husband.

“But…” Charlotte had little argument here and struggled to hold her ground. “But it’s him. You haven’t met him, Eleanor. He’s frank and foolish and rude. Incredibly obnoxious.”

Eleanor’s lips twitched. “So he’s a man. You forget I grew up with two brothers. Never mind that, Charlotte. You can manage any man you set your sights on. As for this particular duke, he might be a valuable asset. Everyone in the city knows of him.”

“Then I feel bad for all of London.”

“No matter how much you dislike him,” Eleanor continued, “he is a very eligible and sought-after bachelor in London. He’s titled, wealthy, and he has all his teeth. Hair, too. If you attend even a single event with him, I believe you could meet or marry any other man in attendance.”

Oh blast it, she is right. I am just a nobody from the countryside even if my father had a title. But a duke… everyone knows a duke. And if we dance, then everyone will look at him and then look at me. They would see me for who I am. Perhaps even desire me.

“Charlotte?”

“I hate it when you are right,” Charlotte muttered.

Waving her hand again, Eleanor rose from her seat. “And I often am. It’s good to be humbled on occasion, I think. But none of that now. I’ll play you something on the harp. Mozart, perhaps? That should warm your soul.”

Together they returned to the side of the harp, where Eleanor eagerly began to pluck away at the strings. A vaguely familiar song.

Charlotte tried to listen to the music and let it carry her away. But she could not stop thinking about Adrian. She brushed her fingers over the back of her other hand, where his lips had touched her bare skin.

Why hadn’t she worn gloves? Countless questions raced through her mind, and she found herself reflecting on the countless possibilities laid out before her in London.

She didn’t want to spend another minute near Adrian. The man was haughty and barbaric. Besides, what if he kissed her hand again? Or elsewhere?

Cheeks flushing, she forced a smile for her cousin’s sake and attempted to understand what was going on in her mind.