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Charlotte hurriedly denied it, adding, ‘I hope you all enjoy your evening. I shall indeed enjoy the peace and quiet.’
They moved to the hallway, where the men were handed their hats, cloaks and canes. Charlotte stood back, wishing them gone, for this protracted farewell was difficult.
Finally they all moved to the door. At the last, the Earl turned to look at her, and his expression was strangely uncertain.
‘Come, Lord Shalford!’ Henrietta’s tone was imperious. ‘You shall travel in our carriage, for I must tell you more of my visit to Oxford.’
Then they were gone.
* * *
Charlotte hoped they didn’t pity her. She imagined them all, travelling to Lady Cowper’s townhouse. Henrietta would be enjoying her triumph, while Aunt Buxted would be focused on gaining every possible advantage for her daughters. Mr Buxted would already be thinking of meeting his cronies in the card room, and wondering what would be offered at supper.
Faith, with her kind heart, would not feel fully comfortable with Charlotte’s absence, but would be ably distracted by the charming Captain Fanton—and by the gentle Mr Foxley. As for the Earl—no doubt his attention would be fully claimed by the beautiful, wilful Henrietta.
Charlotte went to the library, then to the salon. She was at a loss as to what to do. She felt strangely flat, which surprised her, for she had not thought herself so shallow that the loss of a ball should so affect her. She was not ready to sleep, and reading could not hold her attention. She tried to write a letter to Papa, but the words would not come, and she sat down her pen in frustration.
After almost two hours of achieving nothing, she went to her room.
Priddy helped her prepare for bed, and expressed her opinion on balls and Court presentations and on. ‘Old women who have forgotten what it is to be young. Mark my words: she only did it to keep you away from the young gentlemen!’
‘Oh, Priddy! You must not say such things. It will make me even more angry, for I fear you are right. But we may be wrong. Why, when Henrietta was angry about my riding with them Aunt Buxted did not support her.’
Priddy snorted. ‘She’s a clever old bird. She has plans for her daughters and she will not brook opposition.’
‘But I am no opposition for her daughters. I have no wish for a husband, and I cannot match my cousins’ beauty.’
‘I do not understand how you can say you are not beautiful. You are no insipid yellow-haired milkmaid, it is true, but that is just a fashion. You have countenance, Miss Charlotte, and your good looks will last longer than Miss Buxted’s, mark my words.’
‘Oh, Priddy, I know your regard for me deceives you, but I thank you nevertheless.’
Priddy shook her head. ‘That’s not it. And as for not wanting a husband—it is every girl’s wish to get a nice husband.’ She stared into the distance. ‘To have a proper home of your own and little ones.’
‘Even you, Priddy?’ Charlotte was curious.
‘I confess when I was young there was a man.’ Her eyes softened. ‘We were to be married. But he was carried off by a fever. It was not to be.’
‘Oh, Priddy! I’m so sorry.’ Impulsively, she hugged the woman who had been the closest thing to a mother to her since she had lost her own mama.
‘Now, now,’ said Priddy gruffly. ‘It was a long time ago. But if you get the chance at happiness you must take it. We none of us know how long we have on this earth.’
Charlotte pondered Priddy’s words as she lay wide awake, listening to the sounds of the city at night—carriages rumbling, dogs barking, in the distance, some drunken singing. She knew better than most how easily lives could be snuffed out. Growing up as a war child, she had known many people to die—officers, foot soldiers and their wives—more often from illness and disease than from the heat of battle. She wondered if Captain Fanton, like many of the young men she had known, had felt the trauma of war and of loss.
Her mind moved on from the Captain to his brother. The Earl had been kind tonight. Not arrogant at all. She remembered his cool grey eyes fixing upon hers and felt a strange warmth in her chest. It was altogether confusing, for he held young ladies in disdain, and the squabble between Henrietta and herself would only have strengthened his prejudice.
Yet, surprisingly, her view of him was changing. Where she had seen arrogance and prejudice, she now saw warmth and compassion. Even more strange was this new feeling he had stirred in her. It was something like...affection, though there were other, stranger colours in it. It was a good feeling, though somewhat overshadowed by imagining them all at the ball.
She pictured them all, dancing, laughing, talking, and felt...alone.
Chapter Six (#u23f81156-3224-52fb-b847-78f98a744fdd)
Lady Sophia Annesley was in her drawing room when Adam called. As the Earl was a regular visitor, and one who was well known to all of her ladyship’s staff, he was shown straight in. Unfortunately when he arrived, Lady Sophia was stretched out on a sofa, gently snoring, a handkerchief over her face to protect her sensitive eyes from the harsh daylight.
Adam coughed discreetly.
She rose with a start, her cap slipping sideways and the comfortable blanket she had spread over her feet falling to the floor.
Retrieving the blanket, the Earl bent to help her into a sitting position and kiss her cheek. ‘Good day, Godmama. What a fetching cap!’
‘For goodness’ sake, Adam, why do you arrive without warning? You should always allow a lady to be ready for a visitor.’
She waved at him to be seated, so he placed himself beside her on the sofa.
Lady Sophia was a lady in her middle years, with a round figure and a pleasant, friendly visage. Her mind was sharp, and she knew everyone in society, keeping track of the latest on-dits through her extensive network of friends. She was well-known and popular, though some were wary of her, for she spoke her mind and was scathing of those she termed ‘fribbles, fools and imbeciles’.
Just now, she did not look quite so formidable.
Retying her cap under her left ear, and gathering her thoughts at the same time, Lady Sophia surveyed the Earl. He looked fresh and immaculately groomed. His boots were polished to a high gloss, his neckcloth perfectly tied, and his eyes clear and amused. Yet she knew he—like most of London’s elite—had drunk and eaten, danced and talked until the early hours of the morning at Lady Cowper’s ball.
‘Why are you so awake and so loud at this ungodly hour? I am not long arisen from my bed.’
‘But it is almost two o’clock.’
‘Yes, but it feels like the middle of the night! I believe there was something wrong with those prawns, you know, though I would never say so to Emily Cowper. I feel distinctly unwell.’
‘Well, you look as fresh as a newborn lamb, despite...er...the copious amounts of punch on offer last night.’
She eyed him malevolently. ‘Yes, thank you, Adam, but you really shouldn’t be barging in unannounced, you know.’
‘Aunt Sophia, you summoned me here. I dashed from my bed when I received your message, wondering what desperate crisis had occurred. I came as quickly as I could!’
‘Foolish boy! I have no time for your funning today.’ She patted his hand warmly, but then spoke intently. ‘Something of a most concerning nature has occurred.’
‘Do tell, pray.’
‘Last night at the ball the Fanton name was being bandied about in a most unpleasant way.’
He frowned. ‘Indeed? May I ask what was said?’
‘There’s the thing. I don’t know exactly. But I know the sort of tittle-tattle and gossip...’
‘Ah.’ He sat back. ‘And was this gossip perhaps related to the fact that we were part of the Buxted party at the ball?’
‘I cannot like it, Adam. We are Fantons. We should not be the subject of demeaning conversation from people with nothing else to do.’
‘What are the old tabbies saying? What can they possibly find amiss in our company last night? The Buxteds are a respectable family whose Surrey estate marches with ours. Why, we may have known them for a long time.’
‘Yes, but it is known you have never been intimate with them. It is drawing attention. It seems Mrs Buxted has been crowing about you visiting their house and having dinner, arranging riding excursions...’ She paused. ‘There are even rumours that the entire family have been invited to Chadcombe.’
‘And what if they have?’
She looked shocked ‘But, Adam, you must know it is too particular... It looks as if you may be planning to offer for one of the Buxted girls. Now, I must say since your father’s illness, and this last year, you have surprised all the naysayers who thought you would struggle to manage Chadcombe. I know as few do how things were let slip these last few years, with your mama gone and your father not himself...I also know how you are working hard to repair and improve the estate. You have behaved admirably, my boy. But there is no need to set up your nursery too soon, you know. Better to wait a while for the right girl to come along.’
The Earl remained expressionless.
She took his hand. ‘Tell me, Adam, do you think of marriage?’
‘Yes—no! I don’t know.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘I had thought it sensible, but unfortunately I am having some difficulty in actually deciding to...well, to cross that particular Rubicon. I have had my fill of debutantes. They giggle and simper and talk too much—or not enough. Or they have no opinions. Or they have ill-informed opinions. Or they are...impudent.’
He rose, trying to shake away the memory of one particular young lady, and made an absent-minded study of Lady Annesley’s ormolu clock on the mantel.
‘I must at least consider it, Godmama. It is my duty to marry well. Grandfather almost ruined us, and Papa worried himself into an early grave trying to restore our fortunes. I have made a good start on the estate, but the house has lost some of its warmth since Mama died. It needs a mistress. And Olivia needs female company—someone other than Great-Aunt Clara. Olivia and I argue too much lately. I do not understand what goes on in the mind of a woman!’
‘What do you and Olivia argue about?’
‘She chafes against the restrictions of Chadcombe. She wishes to come out next season, now we are out of mourning, but in truth I cannot stomach the thought of squiring her to dozens of balls and routs. And as for Almack’s—with its orgeat and its gossips—’ He grimaced. ‘I have been trying hard this season to take my place in the Marriage Mart, but the whole game quite disgusts me!’
‘Adam, you have had it your own way for far too long. No, do not show me that face. I am not a debutante, to be slain by your wrathful looks. I am your aunt and your godmother and I shall tell you what I think.’
‘I am all attention, dear Aunt.’
‘You are a good boy, Adam. You work hard with the estate and your interest in politics does you credit. My brother—your poor father—would be proud of you. But you are accustomed to deference, and to having what you want. You have the freedom to go where you will, whenever you wish—to gambling dens, cockfights, boxing matches and other uncouth pursuits if you wish. You have independence. Try to remember Olivia does not.’
‘Olivia is well cared for. My great-aunt—’
‘Clara Langley is too old to be a fitting companion for a young lady. You know I love your mother’s elderly aunt, but she does not wish to go out in society and has no understanding of the needs of a young girl like Olivia.’
‘Which is why I must marry! My...my wife—’ he struggled with the word ‘—will look after Olivia, help her with her come-out and—’
‘But that is not a reason to marry. Why, I could take dear Olivia under my wing.’
‘Come, come, Aunt Sophia. You would hate it after a week. Like me, you are accustomed to independence. Since my uncle died—and I know you grieve deeply for him—you have built a good life as a widow, have you not?’
‘You know me too well. But, Adam, I will do it. If you do not find a lady you truly wish to marry—a lady you love and wish to share your life with—then I will bring Olivia out next season. There!’
He kissed her hand. ‘Best of aunts. I thank you—though I still believe you would detest it. How would you survive Almack’s every week?’
She struggled to answer.
‘Exactly!’
‘Wretch! Now, tell me—what of Harry? His name is being linked with the Buxted girls too, with speculation that he will also marry.’
The Earl considered this, his forehead creased. ‘I cannot say, for Harry no longer confides in me. He enjoys female company, and can flirt and make compliments much easier than I. But I do not know if he thinks of marriage... The wars have changed him, Godmama. Underneath the gaiety, he is still troubled, I think.’
‘He is young. Time will help him forget what he has seen. Now we have peace, and will not be murdered in our beds by Frenchmen, he can enjoy his duties without anxiety. You shake your head—do you disagree with me?’
‘I cannot be easy about Harry. He hides it well, but... I am being foolish, perhaps. Too much time to think and worry and ponder over things. And now this unfortunate mess. I am displeased that my attentions to the Buxted ladies have been noticed—and not just on my own behalf. I should not like to cause distress to any lady—and I should like the freedom to make my choice without an audience watching my every action.’
‘Tell me, have you invited them to Chadcombe? Just the mother and the daughters?’
‘I have—but not just Mrs Buxted and her daughters. The father too. And a relative who is staying with them.’
‘And who is your hostess? Clara?’
‘Yes, she has agreed to host. I know she struggles to manage the house at times, but she assures me she is happy to host this party.’
‘Good. May I advise you?’
‘Of course you may. You are, after all, my favourite aunt.’
‘I am your only aunt. Now, do listen, Adam. Mrs Buxted, from what I know of her, is a vain, silly woman who is ambitious for her daughters. She was Louisa Long before her marriage, and those Longs were always a little... Yes, well, she thinks she has triumphed because of the exclusivity of this invitation to Chadcombe. And, in truth, the exclusivity is what is stirring the gossips. If you have truly only invited them—’
‘Godmother, I thank you. I shall immediately invite a dozen eligible ladies and their families to divert suspicion.’
‘No, not a dozen. Poor Miss Langley—! Ah, you are jesting with me again, I see. Yes, do invite others to Chadcombe. And it would be wise to be seen escorting other young ladies as well—perhaps take one to the theatre with her family. That way, if you do choose to court one in particular, you can do so without giving ammunition to the gossips. But, Adam, listen to me now. Things have changed. In these modern times you do not have to marry out of duty. Better marry for love.’
‘Love?’ He laughed. ‘I have no desire to spout poetry and daydream of a lady’s fine eyes...’
He paused, then shook his head as if to rid himself of something.
‘I just want to find a sensible girl who won’t give me any trouble. I must think of the estate. We are in need of money, so I must marry well. The Buxted family owns Monkton Park, which would be a good addition to Chadcombe, and the mother rather clumsily informed me it is dowried on one of the daughters. On the other hand, Miss Etherington has a large dowry, which would boost our funds. And there is another lady—but I do not know what her fortune is.’
‘But, Adam, you have done well with the estate since your father died. Don’t forget that the woman you marry will be by your side till death parts you. You must think of that when you choose to marry.’
‘My problem, Godmama, is that I have never yet met a lady—apart from you, of course—who did not bore me or irritate me within a month of knowing her. And marrying to suit myself is not an option if it causes harm to my family.’
* * *
The Earl took his leave shortly afterwards, leaving his aunt in pensive mood. She lay down on her sofa again to think. Adam had had relationships with women of a certain class, she knew—for the ton knew everything—but she had never heard of him losing his heart.
He was popular with ladies—the older ones responded to his serious nature, the younger ones liked his handsome face and figure—but he always held a certain reserve. He was used to seeking the company of his friends, and had never, to Sophia’s knowledge, engaged in a true friendship with any lady. Adam, like many men, saw ladies as decorative irritations, to be tolerated and enjoyed.
Some young ladies, Sophia acknowledged, did not help matters with their behaviour. And the Marriage Mart itself encouraged young ladies to flirt and be silly to attract attention. She sighed. If Adam was to marry now, one of the simpering misses he so disdained, the marriage would be a disaster.
In this, his sense of duty would work against him. He had been raised with a love of Chadcombe, and the knowledge that when his father was gone the responsibility for the people and the place would pass to him. It had always made him more cautious, more sober—older than his years.
He had not, until now, shown a particular interest in any young lady. That, she guessed, was why the gossips were so fascinated by his attentions towards the Buxteds.
She knew the Buxted family a little, but not well. The mother had managed to engineer a formal introduction last night, so Sophia could now acknowledge them, which would allow her to find out more. Adam had not denied being interested in Miss Buxted, so Sophia needed to meet her—and quickly. She was not at all convinced that the girl she had met last night would make a suitable countess, or that Adam should have Louisa Long for a mother-in-law.
To call on them would be too obvious, drawing exactly the sort of attention she had just warned Adam about. She would have to find another way...
She was still trying to think of how she would manage it when sleep again claimed her.
* * *
Charlotte returned to the house after her usual morning walk, wondering if the ladies were still abed.
