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The Earl was all politeness but, remembering his opinion of her yesterday, Charlotte could not ignore the implied criticism.
‘Not me,’ she said, ‘I am most unnatural, I fear.’
Joseph, now mounted, followed them as they moved slowly towards the park.
‘What? Do you not enjoy shopping at all?’ asked the Earl. ‘It seems to me that young women, when they are not flirting or gossiping, are talking about ribbons and hats and fashion plates.’
Charlotte bit back the retort which was on the tip of her tongue, instead asking mildly, ‘And do you not take pleasure in seeing a well-dressed lady?’
‘Of course. A beautiful lady is an ornament to be admired!’
An ornament! ‘And can we be more?’
He looked confused.
Amused, she gave him a sunny smile, and he blinked.
‘I enjoy dressing well, Lord Shalford—as I think you do, too.’ She swept her eyes over his tight-fitting buckskins, well-made coat and highly polished boots. ‘In order for we ladies to be well turned out, we do not rely on our tailor and our valet. We must consider, and design, and choose the best fabrics, dressmakers and milliners, and we also have to worry about how things will match. There is no little skill in it.’
He considered this. ‘So the enjoyment of shopping is a necessity?’
‘In a way. Many ladies enjoy it, but it cannot be described as the favourite pastime of all females, for it is certainly not my favourite. I had much rather be out like this, riding, than stuck in a haberdashery.’
He looked sceptical, but let it pass.
Captain Fanton, as if surprised by his brother’s garrulity, intervened. ‘You are certainly unusual, Miss Wyncroft. Tell me, is it because of your upbringing in military circles?’
Charlotte, pleased with her small victory over the Arrogant Earl, smiled at Harry. ‘I suppose so. I have been around military and diplomatic families my whole life. I was born in Portugal, and I have lived in many different places. It was, I think, a good childhood—though I don’t know anything else.’
‘And you speak Portuguese?’
‘Yes. I’m afraid I can speak French, German, Italian, Spanish and Portuguese. It is a terrible thing, I know, to be thought a bluestocking, when in reality I never learned any of them, I just...knew them.’
‘Perfectly understandable,’ said the Captain. ‘Fear not, I should not take you for a bluestocking. Why, bluestockings are dowdy!’
Charlotte laughed. ‘I must thank you both for including me in your invitation to Chadcombe—even if I may be seen as a bluestocking. I am looking forward to it. It is in Surrey, I believe?
‘Yes,’ said the Earl, ‘between Godalming and Guildford. There have been Fantons there for nearly four hundred years.’
‘Godalming—I stayed at a posting inn there on my way to London. I thought it a most pretty town. They are building a new town hall with a pepperpot roof.’
‘That’s it. It replaces the old market house, which has stood there since the Middle Ages.’
‘And is your house—er—medieval?’
The Earl’s eyes narrowed. ‘Now, Miss Wyncroft, I think you are trying to fence with me. Are you asking me the age of the house, or whether it is ancient, decrepit and devoid of modern conveniences?’
She laughed lightly. ‘Is it not the same thing?’
‘No, it is not—and you know it! To answer both your questions...the original medieval house is now used for stabling. My grandfather built the present house—and nearly went bankrupt doing so. It was his obsession.’ His eyes fired a challenge to hers. ‘It has modern water closets and a new closed oven.’
‘I shall simply die from excitement! A closed oven! Why, I have never seen such a thing!’
The Captain, observing their repartee with some amazement, said, ‘Miss Wyncroft, if I had known you were so interested in domestic devices I should have invited you to tour an oven-maker’s or some such thing.’
‘Oh, please don’t. I much prefer this ride in Green Park. Tell me, Captain, do you spend much time at Chadcombe?’
‘I am there when I can be. These few years, since our mother died and our father became ill, have been difficult. I have been away with my regiment for most of the past two years. Much of the burden has rested on Adam’s shoulders.’
His brother nodded, acknowledging the truth of the Captain’s words. ‘My father worked hard to restore our fortunes, and the stability of the estate, but was ill for the last years of his life and unable to give the necessary attention to the estate. My task is to make sure the place can thrive once again. There are many families—not just ours—who rely on it.’
‘I just wish you could relax and enjoy life once in a while, Adam.’
‘I am content, Harry. I do not need to.’
‘Agreed. But you might enjoy it.’
Charlotte felt a twinge of unexpected sympathy. Lord Shalford had put duty first. This she understood. Even if the man was horribly proud and judgemental. And arrogant.
The Captain turned to Charlotte again. ‘Miss Wyncroft, tell me—when you were with the Army, did you perhaps meet my friend Captain Jack Harris? We served with the Thirtieth, in the Peninsula.’
‘You mean Parson Jack?’
‘Lord, that soubriquet followed him everywhere! Such a prosy fellow, but with a good heart.’
‘In the Peninsula he was always in the company of Captain Burnett.’
‘Yes. We three were best friends at school. Did you also meet Major Cooke?’
‘I did—many times. He is a particular friend of my father.’
She and Captain Fanton continued to converse easily as they progressed to Green Park, while Lord Shalford remained silent, watching them.
The Captain was keen to establish who Charlotte knew of his military friends, and to share impressions of places they had both visited. Charlotte laughingly fended off his questions, enjoying his relaxed manner and humorous tales. He reminded her so much of the young soldiers she had known in Vienna—they had been like younger brothers to her.
‘I remember one time, near Ciudad Rodrigo, when some of my men dressed a pig in full regimentals. Lord, such a to-do! But many are gone now.’ He fell momentarily silent.
‘Were you at Badajoz, then?’ she asked softly, remembering the difficult time during and after the siege.
‘Yes, we were all there. It didn’t end well.’ A shadow crossed his face. ‘But let us not dwell on it. Today the sun shines and we are out for a ride. Where can we let the horses have their heads?’
‘Well, this is the spot where I usually enjoy a canter—from here to the end of this meadow.’
‘Then let’s ride!’
The Captain spurred his horse and they all set off.
Cantering easily, the Captain moved slightly ahead. About halfway across the meadow he eased back, allowing Charlotte and the Earl to catch up. Joseph followed at an easier pace. The brothers were both good horsemen, and Charlotte was enjoying the thrill of the ride in their company. Charlotte and the Captain were now neck-and-neck, while the Earl eased back slightly. Somehow, Charlotte reached the end of the meadow first.
‘You let me win!’ she accused the Captain, as Lord Shalford reached them, two lengths behind. Joseph, on his Buxted hack, was last to catch up.
‘I? No!’ The Captain laughed.
‘I wish you hadn’t. I do like to win, but only when I play fair.’ She turned to the Earl, tilting her head to one side. ‘Don’t you think it’s terrible when someone lets you win?’
‘It depends,’ he said, giving her question serious consideration. ‘For example, just now I let both of you win.’
His eyes were definitely smiling. Charlotte noticed they crinkled up at the sides in a most interesting manner. She frowned—she didn’t want to find anything likeable about the Arrogant Earl.
‘Adam, you wretch,’ said the Captain. ‘You just won’t admit you couldn’t catch me.’
The men continued with their light-hearted banter as they all picked their way back through the grasses, evoking childhood contests lost and won, and Charlotte felt amused—and a little envious—as she listened.
‘How I should have loved to have a brother or sister, to tease and be teased like this!’ she said as they paused in their recollections. ‘Do you have any other brothers and sisters?’
‘We have a sister—Olivia,’ said Lord Shalford. ‘She is seventeen, and not yet out. She lives quietly at Chadcombe. That is one of the reasons why I have invited you all to stay. I believe she needs the company of women.’
‘My papa said the same to me, when we talked about my visit to London. I have no sisters, although my school friend Juliana is almost like a sister to me.’
‘Olivia has friends too, but I think—I hope—she will enjoy the company of other ladies. Ladies younger than my great-aunt, who is a most admirable lady, but...’ He hesitated.
‘She is not the best companion for a seventeen-year-old girl,’ finished the Captain.
Charlotte reminded herself of the other reasons the Earl had for inviting the Buxted family. This would be a test—to assess Henrietta as a possible bride. Her substantial dowry—and Monkton Park—would surely assist his restoration of the family’s estates.
The Earl clearly felt a strong sense of duty to his heritage. Marrying well was a logical step. Henrietta was the right age, of good family, and had a handsome dowry. It was a sensible match, Charlotte thought wistfully. An exceptionally sensible match.
* * *
Arriving back at the house after their ride, Charlotte was rather alarmed to find Henrietta waiting for her. Her cousin’s expression was grim.
‘A word with you, if you please!’ she said, turning on her heel and making for the drawing room.
Charlotte followed her up the wide staircase, feeling like a naughty child. She lifted her chin.
Aunt Buxted and Faith were already in the room. Faith looked uncomfortable, but she sent Charlotte a tremulous smile. Mrs Buxted, who was mending a petticoat, lifted her eyes briefly to acknowledge Charlotte, then returned to her work.
‘Good day,’ said Charlotte, generally. ‘Did you enjoy your shopping trip while I was riding?’
‘Charlotte!’ Henrietta’s voice was sharp. She stood before the door, tapping one small foot in an agitated way. ‘The servants have let slip that you were out riding with Lord Shalford and the Captain.’
‘Indeed I was. There is no secret about it. You heard the Captain arrange it yesterday. I confess I did not realise Lord Shalford would be there.’
Henrietta pursed her lips.
Charlotte removed her hat. There was a gilded mirror above the fireplace. She walked across and smoothed her hair, checking her reflection in the glass. Unfortunately, she had to stand on tiptoes in order to do so, which perhaps spoiled the impression of calm poise.
‘I had a most enjoyable time,’ she continued. ‘They are well-informed and pleasant gentlemen, I think.’ She turned to face the ladies. ‘You should come next time. You would enjoy the conversation, I believe.’
‘You went out riding with two men!’ Two spots of unbecoming colour had appeared on Henrietta’s cheeks and her breathing had quickened. ‘I do not know—nor do I wish to know—what customs prevail in Spain, or France, or any other heathen, uncivilised place, but in London you would do well to avoid seeming fast.’
Charlotte raised her eyebrows, but answered calmly. ‘My dear Henrietta, I appreciate your concern, but I was very properly accompanied by my groom, so I believe my reputation is intact.’
‘Your—your groom?’ Henrietta’s mouth opened, then closed again. ‘I—I see. I did not know...’
Her eyes darted around the room as she searched for something to say.
‘Hrmmph! Well, on this occasion—with your groom—you may have managed to stay on the right side of acceptable maidenly behaviour... But you know I am only trying to help you.’
She smiled weakly, but her eyes told a different story.
Charlotte moved away, placing her hat upon an ornate side table. Her hand shook a little. There was no point in arguing with Henrietta—much as she longed to do so.
‘The gentlemen were most disappointed you did not ride today.’
‘They were? What did he—they—say? Did he—they—mention me?’ Henrietta’s voice was small.
‘The Earl talked about his sister, Olivia. He hopes for female companionship for her, I think.’
Mrs Buxted, who had held her tongue during Henrietta’s outburst, spoke dispassionately to her elder daughter. ‘My love, you must befriend the sister. And you should have gone riding today. But there is no need to worry about competition from your cousin.’
Charlotte blinked. She knew—and did not mind—that Henrietta was the prettiest young lady in the household. Her golden hair and deep blue eyes captivated attention wherever they went. Strangers sometimes turned their heads in the street when Henrietta passed by. At present, though, her cousin’s beauty was somewhat marred by her petulant expression. And for Aunt Buxted to speak so plainly was, Charlotte thought, unnecessary—though hardly surprising.
‘I will certainly go next time.’ Mollified, Henrietta patted her side-curls, eyeing Charlotte’s fashionable habit. ‘I need a new habit from Milton’s, Mama. Can they make it up in a week?’
‘I’m sure they can, if I require it. We shall go tomorrow.’
‘Mama,’ said Faith tentatively, ‘you said I was to get a new habit, for my old one is now a little too small. Should I go with Henrietta?’
‘No, I do not want her distracting them. My habit must be perfect!’ said Henrietta.
‘But, Mama—’
‘Don’t listen to her, Mama. I missed the ride today and everything. I must have a perfect habit!’
‘I will take you another time, Faith.’
‘Yes, Mama,’ Faith submitted, though her voice trembled a little.
Charlotte threw her a sympathetic look.
‘Did you arrange to ride with them again?’ Henrietta asked Charlotte sharply, oblivious to her sister’s disappointment.
‘Yes—next Tuesday morning. I said I hoped you would both also ride then.’
‘Well, at least you did something right.’ Henrietta was back at the glass, turning her head this way and that, preening slightly. ‘And we shall see them at Lady Cowper’s ball on Friday. Oh, but of course—you can’t come, Charlotte.’ She smiled sweetly. ‘What a pity you have not been presented at Court. You miss all the most exciting parties! It must be so dull—being limited to small gatherings. No routs, no balls, no Almack’s.’
‘Oh, it is perfectly fine.’ Charlotte smiled through gritted teeth. ‘I have much to amuse myself with. I shall probably write another letter to Papa.’
