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‘Thank you, Sarah,’ she said to the housemaid who had accompanied her.
Sarah had informed her that the Buxted ladies had returned late into the night, and that the night footman had reported downstairs that the ladies had been in raptures over their success.
Hearing this, Charlotte had not known whether to be glad or sorry. Of course she wanted her cousins and her aunt to enjoy themselves—and she hoped Henrietta would be easier company today—but some selfish part of her had wanted to hear that the evening had been flat, or dull, or that nobody had danced.
Scolding herself for such uncharitable thoughts, she went to the breakfast parlour—a small, bright room where she found all three ladies indulging in a light nuncheon of rolls, fruit and cold meat.
‘Oh, Charlotte, there you are. Where have you been?’ Mrs Buxted looked her usual calm self, but she had a self-satisfied air, sitting upright and smiling benevolently on her daughters.
‘Walking, Aunt Buxted. You recall that I ride or walk every morning if I can—though today I was later than usual, as I was waiting for Sarah to accompany me and she was on an errand for Cook.’
Aunt Buxted was only half listening. ‘Yes, yes...do not ever go unaccompanied. You are living under my husband’s roof, and anything you do reflects on us. Sit here, girl, and pass me the beef.’
‘Yes, Aunt. How was your evening?’
‘A triumph! My girls were a great success. I declare they hardly sat down all night, for they danced almost every dance. And Lord Shalford and his brother were most attentive.’
‘Oh, Mama! Did you see Millicent Etherington looking at me when I was dancing with the Earl? She must be so jealous that he accompanied us and not her to the ball. And he only danced with her because he couldn’t dance with me all night.’
‘He danced with Beatrice Ross too.’
‘Yes, Faith—which proves what I just said. He danced with four different ladies, but he came here for dinner—and they all knew it.’
‘Did you dance, Faith?’
‘Yes, I danced with Mr Foxley, and the Captain, and the Earl.’ She smiled shyly. ‘I had a wonderful evening. I do feel tired today, though. I am not accustomed to so much dancing.’
Charlotte smiled back at her as she poured herself a cup of coffee.
‘Well, you should remember it, Faith,’ said her sister, ‘for it may not happen for you again. There will be nights when you may have to sit and watch. Of course I am rarely short of partners.’
‘I was also busy on your behalf, girls,’ said Mrs Buxted. ‘I was introduced to Lady Annesley last night.’
Her announcement did not have the desired effect. All three young ladies looked at her blankly.
‘Who is Lady Annesley, Mama?’ asked Henrietta.
‘If you had properly studied the copy of Mr Debrett’s book I gave you, you would know exactly who she is.’
Henrietta squirmed slightly, while Faith looked anxious.
Mrs Buxted tutted, then told them. ‘She is Shalford’s aunt—his father’s sister. He is, they say, extremely close to her.’
‘Yes...?’ Henrietta looked confused. ‘And why should we be interested in her?’
‘You are very stupid today, Henrietta. She will influence him.’ Mrs Buxted applied herself to her beef. ‘Why, in my day it was the families who decided who would marry whom. None of this nonsense of allowing young people to choose. I hardly knew Mr Buxted when we were wed, but I submitted, as a dutiful daughter must, to my parents’ wishes.’
Henrietta snorted. ‘But, Mama, we have no need for help from a silly old aunt. If he is in love with me then he will marry me, no matter what she says.’
Charlotte carefully set down her cup, having found herself gripping the delicate handle tightly. For some reason Henrietta’s words were particularly grating. The thought of the Earl falling in love with Henrietta shouldn’t bother her. But perhaps, now that she was beginning to see him in a better light, she did not want him to be chained to Henrietta for a lifetime.
‘Yes, well, that’s as may be—but until he approaches your father we can take nothing for granted. We will visit Lady Annesley today.’
‘Oh, no, Mama,’ wailed Henrietta. ‘Must we?’
* * *
Mrs Buxted would not be moved, despite Henrietta’s pleadings. And two hours later, feeling decidedly uncomfortable, Charlotte found herself in Lady Annesley’s hallway. Mrs Buxted, unaware or unconcerned that such a direct approach might be poorly thought of by Lady Annesley, had insisted on this visit to that lady’s home, accompanied by all three girls.
Lady Annesley’s butler, who was eying them all assessingly, held Mrs Buxted’s card by one corner as she spoke to him.
‘Do tell dear Lady Annesley that Mrs Buxted is here to see her. We had the pleasure of welcoming her two charming nephews to our humble home for dinner last night.’
The butler showed them into an empty drawing room, bowed, and left.
Waiting, the young ladies sat stiffly, listening to Mrs Buxted’s last-minute instructions.
‘And you, Faith, should not speak much. It is Henrietta who must have priority.’
‘But, Mama, what if she should speak to me directly, or ask me a question?’
‘Then you should answer, but keep it brief. Foolish girl. Do not try my patience!’
‘Lady Sophia Annesley,’ intoned the butler.
Lady Annesley swept into the room. If she had heard the conversation between Faith and her mother she affected not to have done so. Charlotte’s discomfort increased. They should not be here.
‘Mrs Buxted. What an unexpected pleasure. Yes, of course I remember you. We met last night, did we not? A most pleasant evening, though the prawns were a little... Yes, well, it was a crush as always. Emily Cowper will be pleased. May I offer you some ratafia? Tea?’
She waved to the butler, who left to secure the refreshments.
‘And these are your daughters?’
Mrs Buxted, all smiles, made the introductions.
Lady Annesley surveyed the Buxted girls critically. ‘Yes, both good-looking girls, Mrs Buxted. Accomplished dancers, too—I saw them dance the quadrille last night with my nephews.’
Mrs Buxted looked pleased.
Henrietta fluttered her lashes and tilted her head to one side, saying, ‘Thank you, Lady Annesley.’
Lord, thought Charlotte, she flirts with everyone. But Henrietta, she noted, had not seen Lady Annesley’s wry smile.
‘And who is this young lady?’ Lady Annesley turned her intelligent gaze to Charlotte.
‘This is Miss Charlotte Wyncroft. Her mother was my husband’s cousin.’
Lady Annesley started, then smiled broadly. ‘Then you are Sir Edward’s daughter! I did not know you were in England. Is your father with you? How is the old rogue? Is he still breaking hearts in Vienna?’
‘He is now breaking hearts in Paris, if I am not mistaken.’ Charlotte smiled.
Lady Annesley laughed. ‘I do not doubt it. So you are Maria’s little daughter, who was born in Portugal. Well, a fine young lady you have become. What an elegant dress. Never say this was made by a London modiste.’ She studied Charlotte’s stylish walking dress—a figured muslin with embroidered trim, complete with matching spencer.
‘No, indeed. It was made by Madame Diebolt, an émigrée in Vienna. All the ladies compete for her best work—I do declare she has us all under her control.’
‘She is clearly a genius. Such stitch-work. Such a cut. And you wear it with style, Miss Wyncroft. How long do you stay in London?’
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