Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
M atilda spent the following day embroidering cushions alongside Charlotte, who was feeling unwell. Though her needle moved methodically through the fabric, her mind was elsewhere—filled with thoughts of Lord Charteris and their shared kiss. The memory played repeatedly in her mind, stirring emotions she couldn’t entirely name.
She knew better than to believe it would happen again. Despite her playful hint that a kiss was not overly scandalous, she understood the truth of it all too well. The forbidden nature of their shared moment lingered heavily in her conscience. A kiss with anyone, let alone her best friend’s brother, was a breach of the unspoken rules that governed her world.
But he was so very handsome. And with several weeks before she left for Genevieve’s new home, she could hardly ignore how much more exciting he made the days. After all, there were only so many hours one could fill with horse riding, swimming, and embroidery.
Lady D’Estel sat near the window, her embroidery frame catching the soft afternoon light. Positioned a little apart, she gave Charlotte and Matilda enough distance to speak freely.
“Charlotte, dear,” Matilda ventured in whispered tones, “may I ask a question about your brother?”
Charlotte stabbed her needle into the cushion and leaned back, resting her hands in her lap as she turned her full attention to her. “Of course. What would you like to know?”
Matilda hesitated, unsure how to frame her curiosity without revealing too much. “I suppose I’d like to know why he isn’t married. He’s a titled lord, bound to inherit a dukedom, and undeniably handsome. Why does he stay away from London and the throngs of ladies who, I’m sure, would eagerly pursue him during the Season?”
Charlotte shrugged, pursing her lips in thought. “I can’t say for certain," she said in hushed tones, glancing at her mama. "But I believe it has something to do with our cousin, Frank Langley. If anything were to happen to Christopher, our cousin is next in line. He's married and has a son, so the line is secure. I, therefore, think Christopher likely feels no obligation to marry anytime soon. I think he rather enjoys the freedom of being an eligible bachelor.”
“But in Scotland? Surely there is little society in the Highlands?”
Charlotte shrugged. “He spends a good deal of time in Edinburgh during the Season. Their society isn’t as grand as London’s, but it’s still lively enough. Plenty of eligible matches to be found there.”
Matilda paused her sewing, surprised. “Do you think he might be attached to someone in Scotland? Someone unsuitable, perhaps?”
Charlotte frowned at the cushion as she considered the notion. “I’d hate to think so—it would be terribly disappointing for him if that were the case, for our parents would not approve of the match." She paused. "But no, he’s never shown any particular interest in anyone. I believe he’s simply comfortable with his life as it is.”
“And your parents? Doubtless, they wish for him to marry.”
“You are correct, they do,” Charlotte replied, glancing toward her mother. “Mama is desperate for him to marry and produce an heir. I think that’s why she invited Lord and Lady Haverly and their daughter, Lady Delphine, to stay. Mama and Papa would be thrilled with such a match, but as I said before, I do not believe Christopher would be.”
“Then I feel very sorry for your parents." Though her heart felt lighter with the knowledge. She returned to her embroidery, stitching a delicate pink tulip as her mind turned over Charlotte’s words.
Was Lady Delphine here because both families hoped for a union between her and Lord Charteris? If so, Matilda’s kiss with him certainly did not bode well for the heiress.
The realization sent a pang of guilt through her. How terrible to have kissed a man who might be destined for another. Lady Delphine, thought quiet, was kind and a gentle soul, she believed. How could Matilda have been so thoughtless? Did this make her no better than a lightskirt? She resolved to do better, to resist the temptation of Lord Charteris’s kisses—no matter how delectable they were.
She felt Charlotte’s gaze and refused to meet her friend’s eyes.
“Matilda, dear…” Charlotte’s tone was laced with curiosity, “do your questions about my brother mean you have feelings for him? I love Lady Delphine, but I would prefer to call you my sister than anyone else.”
Matilda’s head snapped up, her cheeks flaming. “No, not at all,” she insisted. “I was merely curious. He’s of marriageable age—if not a bit past it, to be honest—and I wondered why such an eligible, handsome man hadn’t wed.”
“Handsome?” Charlotte teased, her lips curling into a smirk.
Before Matilda could respond, Lord Charteris strolled into the room, his presence commanding, even in its casualness. He popped a morsel of something into his mouth before slumping onto the settee between them. The heat that rushed to Matilda’s face was instant and undeniable.
“As for why I’m unmarried,” he said with a roguish grin, “that is entirely my choice—just as it is your choice to remain unwed at three and twenty.”
“You shouldn’t eavesdrop on conversations, Christopher,” Charlotte scolded.
“Hard not to,” he replied with a shrug, “when you’re not being the least bit discreet.”
Matilda’s heart pounded as she prayed no one else had overheard. The last thing she wanted was to seem overly curious—or worse, infatuated.
“I was about to ask if Lady Matilda would care for a ride before dinner,” Lord Charteris continued. “The weather is agreeable, and we have a few hours yet before we dine. That is, of course, if she’s finished discussing my life.”
Charlotte sighed dramatically. “Take her, then. But take my maid with you as a chaperone.”
Lord Charteris rolled his eyes as he stood. “I’m not going to compromise your friend, Charlotte. She’s three and twenty, hardly in need of a chaperone.”
“With you, I think she does,” Charlotte countered with a grin.
Matilda laughed as she rose, but her stomach churned at the thought of their kiss last night. “I’ll change and meet you at the stables, my lord.” She left quickly, her heart fluttering as anticipation filled her chest.
As she made her way upstairs, Matilda couldn’t suppress the thrill of riding with him again.
We are friends and nothing more . The thought brought little comfort. Perhaps, during their ride, she might find the courage to ask him about Lady Delphine and his parents’ plan for them both. Or perhaps…she wouldn’t.