Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
T he rest of the day passed uneventfully, the house humming with the subdued activities of its occupants. Soon, the soft chime of the hallway clock signaled the hour to prepare for dinner. Matilda ascended the staircase, her slippers barely making a sound against the plush carpet before she changed into a gown of pale-blue silk, its fabric shimmering like a summer sky under the soft glow of candlelight. Her natural hair was set into an elegant upsweep adorned with delicate curls and ribbon accents, perfect for this evening's dinner party.
Once ready, she descended to the drawing room where the Duke and Duchess D’Estel were already present, speaking to Lord and Lady Haverly alongside their daughter, Lady Delphine, who, like herself, was unmarried and did not look to become so anytime soon.
They hailed from Surrey and were to dine with the family this evening. Lady Delphine was lovelier than Matilda remembered from several Seasons ago in London, not that she had remained long in town. The young woman had delicate features and a reserved demeanor that hinted at an innate elegance. Gathering her courage, Matilda approached the group, smoothing the folds of her gown as she offered a smile.
“Lady Matilda, may I present you to Lord and Lady Haverly and their daughter, Lady Delphine.” The duchess smiled at each of them. “And will, in fact, be staying with us for the next week. I understand Lady Delphine is an avid horse rider, as you are, Matilda. I’m certain you’ll enjoy many excellent outings together.”
“I’m sure we shall,” Matilda replied, dipping into a graceful curtsy. “It’s lovely to meet you all.”
Lady Delphine smiled but did not reply. Matilda hoped the young lady was merely shy and not unhappy that, she too, was a guest at the D'Estel estate.
The conversation turned to the hot weather, with the duchess lamenting the heat that had kept her indoors for much of the day, retreating to the terrace only as the sun sank low in the western sky. The murmurs of polite chatter filled the room, mingling with the soft clinking of glasses and the occasional flutter of fans as others joined pre-dinner drinks.
Charlotte slipped her arm through Matilda’s, leading her to a quiet corner. “Lady Delphine is a spinster, seven and twenty, but she’s exceedingly wealthy. They own half of Surrey, Papa says, yet she’s never been presented at court and shows no interest in marrying. It’s rather odd, do you not think?”
“Don’t be so quick to judge, Charlotte. I may very well end up like Lady Delphine myself. I’ll be four and twenty next year with no prospective husband in sight.”
Charlotte frowned but shook her head determinedly. “I won’t allow that to happen. Mark my words, you’ll be married before the next Season is through. I’ll see to it.”
Matilda raised her brows at the statement. “Unless an eligible bachelor lurks in this house, I fail to see how that will come about.”
Just then, Lord Charteris strode into the room. His confident gait faltered momentarily at the sight of Lady Delphine, a flicker of surprise and something akin to admiration crossing his features. Matilda’s stomach tightened at the sight, an inexplicable pang of disappointment settling deep within her chest.
He bowed over Lady Delphine's hand, pressing a kiss to her gloved fingers in a polished and sincere gesture.
“Your brother seems quite taken with Lady Delphine,” Matilda remarked in muted tones. “Perhaps he’ll marry her, and I will be the only spinster left in England.”
Charlotte snorted but followed Matilda’s gaze toward her brother. “Highly unlikely, my dear. Christopher insists he won’t marry unless he finds a love match—a deep, consuming passion that sweeps him off his feet. But if Father has his way, he’ll have no choice who becomes his wife. He’s ten years my senior, after all. He’ll be an old man soon, and no one will want him.”
Matilda studied Lord Charteris. He looked far from old. His tall, athletic frame and striking features were more akin to a Greek god than an aging, long-toothed bachelor. As he conversed with Lady Delphine, the woman’s fluttering eyelashes and faint blush were telling.
“He doesn’t seem so undesirable to Lady Delphine,” Matilda noted. “She’s blushing.”
Charlotte glanced at the pair, her lips curving into a small smile. “We’ve known the Haverly family for years. Lady Haverly is a distant cousin of Mama’s, which is why they visit so often. But I’ve never thought there was anything romantic between Lady Delphine and Christopher. Perhaps I was wrong. She does look rather smitten.”
Matilda nodded, though an unfamiliar unease settled over her. Why should it matter to her if Lord Charteris found companionship with Lady Delphine? She had no interest in him herself—did she?
“Oh, did I mention?” Charlotte’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “There’s to be a ball at the local assembly rooms next Saturday. Mama’s hosting, of course, so we’ll have a night of dancing and revelry. It will be mostly townspeople and local gentry, but it should be a pleasant evening. Much less pompous than a London ball.”
“Sounds perfect then,” Matilda agreed, though her gaze drifted back to Lord Charteris and Lady Delphine. “They make a handsome pair, do you not think?”
“Perhaps,” Charlotte conceded. “But I challenge there’s anything between them.”
"Really?" Matilda raised her brow, surprised by her friend’s response. "Surely, there is a possibility for people's emotions to change over time. Maybe they like what they've seen here this evening, and it's the start of a grand love affair."
"No," Charlotte disagreed. "Christopher looks upon Lady Delphine as a sister and has done so for some years. The poor lady ought not to hope, for I would bet all my fortune that he sees her as a friend. He will only break her heart if she is living in hope of his beating for her."
Matilda looked back toward Lady Delphine, and again, the young woman appeared utterly smitten by Lord Charteris. A pang of pity filled Matilda, and she hoped that Charlotte was wrong for Lady Delphine's sake.
Dinner was announced, and hours later, Matilda finally escaped to her room. The lingering heat of the day had given way to a balmy evening, and the allure of the lake proved too irresistible. Matilda waited for the house to quieten and the last of the family and guests to retire, before she escaped outside. Sneaking out of her room, she made her way through the house toward the terrace doors before kicking off her slippers and dashing across the moonlit lawns, the damp grass cool beneath her feet.
She reached the dock and sat on the end, slipping her feet into the water, sighing as its cool embrace soothed her overheated skin. The quiet lap of waves against the wooden beams and the soft chirping of crickets created a symphony of tranquility.
How she loved this time of the night…
“Out here again, Lady Matilda? Didn’t you retire two hours ago?”
She gasped, turning to see Lord Charteris approaching. His attire—or lack thereof—rendered her momentarily mute. Gone were the stiff cravat and polished boots; in their place, he wore only buckskin breeches and a loose shirt that revealed the strong lines of his shoulders.
“I could say the same for you,” she replied, forcing her gaze back to the water.
He sighed and sat beside her, the dock creaking under his weight. Sliding his feet into the water, he stirred the surface idly. “At least I cannot fault you for this. No harm can come from merely cooling your feet.”
She smiled, grateful for his lack of reprimands. “Lady Delphine seemed pleased to see you again. I understand you’ve known each other since childhood.”
“Yes, for many years,” he replied, his response carefully neutral. “She’s older than Charlotte, but five years my junior.”
“She never married. I wonder why?” Matilda ventured, curiosity getting the better of her.
Lord Charteris’s jaw tightened. “You’d have to ask Lady Delphine. I’m not one to speculate on another’s choices.”
“Perhaps I will, since you won’t tell me.”
He turned to her, his dark eyes narrowing. “Must you know everything about everyone? You’re quite the meddler.”
“And must you be so secretive?” she countered.
Their gazes locked, and Matilda’s breath hitched as his eyes dipped to her lips. The idea of kissing him swirled in her mind all of a sudden, and her stomach rolled with nerves. What would it feel like to kiss him? Would she enjoy it? Would he even allow such liberties?
“I find my secretive nature adds to my allure.” His tone low and teasing. “You can’t deny you’re intrigued.”
“I am,” she admitted, “though perhaps not in the way you think.”
“Really?” His brow arched. “Now I’m intrigued. Dare to tell?”
“Maybe.” But even as she spoke, her thoughts betrayed her. She didn’t want to tell him. She wanted to show him exactly how he bewitched her.