Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Everyone gathered in the dining hall for dinner.
A long table stretched across the room, which was illuminated by lanterns, for outside, the sun was fading.
More light was offered by two candelabras positioned symmetrically on the table.
The high-backed chairs were comfortable, and the air was alive with fragrant aromas, which served to whet everyone’s appetites.
Charlotte was sitting between Clara and Lydia.
The presence of a child was unusual at the main table, but this was an exception, as the family wanted to present everyone together.
Beatrice had opened her mouth when Agatha took a seat, but she did not end up saying anything.
She seemed put out by the fact that she was forced to sit beside the elder woman.
Charlotte watched them closely, now seeing the tension that Mary had mentioned.
Edmund was opposite her, flanked by Alfred and Nathaniel.
A shudder passed through her, as though thinking his name was like the tolling of a bell. The servants brought out food, and the conversation was lively.
“Tomorrow you should go for a ride, Lady Lydia. You can have your pick of the horses, aside from Bastion, of course. Nobody rides him other than my brother,” Alfred said.
“Is that the black steed we saw when we arrived?” Edmund asked.
“Yes, there’s only one Bastion, and when you see him, you can’t miss him,” Alfred replied.
“A fine creature, well-bred, I’m sure. But I’d wager my sister could outpace him in a race. She’ll take your swiftest horse. Are you a betting man, Winthrop?” Edmund turned to Nathaniel, who had so far remained mercifully quiet.
“No,” Nathaniel replied.
“No?” Edmund asked incredulously. “Not even a flutter now and then? It adds to the spirit of competition.”
“The spirit of competition is the challenge of wits, of intellect and skill opposing each other. There is a purity about it that is sullied when money becomes involved.”
Nathaniel sliced through a piece of meat with precision as he spoke. Charlotte watched him cut it into a perfect square and then pierce it with his fork.
“Perhaps we can talk more about horses tomorrow, Edmund. You mentioned an interest in poetry earlier; perhaps you could talk more about that? I find that it’s an area in which I’m lacking. I would welcome some recommendations,” Alfred said.
“I knew a poet once,” Agatha slurped some soup. Beside her, Beatrice wore a look of disgust. “He wrote one about me. Now, give me a moment, and I’ll think of it…” She trailed away.
“This could take her hours,” Edmund muttered.
“Can I try that?” Clara whispered, pointing to a yellow vegetable.
Charlotte nodded and snuck a piece to Clara, who giggled with delight.
She didn’t mind offering Clara vegetables; the problem came when Clara wanted other things, like rich pies and fatty meats.
Clara was also eyeing some desserts as the side table was adorned with sweet treats.
Charlotte had already promised Clara some as Mary had given her permission beforehand, but Clara didn’t know this. Charlotte tried her best to avert her gaze from Nathaniel, but since he was so close, it was impossible not to see him.
He bristled with unease, tutting and making admonishing expressions every time Charlotte smuggled something to Clara. Unlike before, Charlotte was feeling a little more boisterous. She did not seek to isolate herself, nor did she intend to remain as quiet as before.
Nathaniel might have thought he had the upper hand, but she was going to show him that she would not be cowed by his surreptitious threats.
“I think it’s wonderful that you have such an extensive library. I don’t suppose you happen to have any books on plants or herbs?” she asked.
“I’m sure we do,” Alfred replied, “although I wouldn’t know any from memory. I can’t say that is an area in which I’m well-versed.”
“Not many people are,” Edmund said, “but my dear sister seems to have appointed herself an expert. Not that it provides compelling dinner conversation, as I have warned her many times before.”
“Knowledge is always interesting, especially when delivered by an expert,” Charlotte offered, and she noticed how Nathaniel’s eye twitched. She imagined he was not accustomed to people speaking so freely instead of meekly bowing to another’s words.
“I remember now!” Agatha exclaimed, and she was so enthused that she flicked her spoon, spilling some soup onto the table. Beatrice gasped and grabbed whatever she could find to mop up the small mess, glaring at Agatha.
Agatha began reciting the poem, but she only got a few words in before she looked dismayed and announced that she had forgotten.
“Sometimes it’s a wonder she can remember her own name,” Edmund said.
“Perhaps we should talk about the wedding since we are all here,” Mary suggested.
Charlotte noticed the way Alfred looked toward Nathaniel. Had he said anything about the kiss? She sipped some water, hoping that it would ease the tightness inside. In truth, she did not mind Clara eating off her plate, as her appetite wasn’t as large as normal.
“There is one subject we haven’t broached yet, and that is the guest list. I would like to invite some friends from town. They have all expressed how happy they are for me, and they would like to celebrate with me.”
“The more the merrier,” Edmund said, raising his glass. Charlotte wasn’t sure if there was wine in it or not, but Edmund could have a good time either way.
“I don’t think we should turn away anyone who is going to help us celebrate,” Mary agreed, her smile shining as she gazed toward Alfred. Beatrice did not offer an opinion as she was still tending to the mess while Agatha was deep in thought, attempting to recover the lost poem from her mind.
Lydia was quiet, deferring to the louder members of the family, while Clara was more interested in the food than anything else.
She had stopped trying to hide her pilfering.
At regular intervals, Charlotte noticed a small hand darting across her plate and nipping back, followed by the sounds of chewing.
“I think it might be best if we kept to a small ceremony, family only. You can celebrate with your friends another time,” Nathaniel declared, his tone leaving little room for argument.
Alfred sank back in his chair and remained silent. Mary looked chastised. Charlotte waited for either of them to speak up, but they accepted Nathaniel’s judgment without question. Charlotte gripped her fork tightly and stabbed a chunk of meat.
Indignation flared within her. The arrogant tone echoed the way he had spoken to her before. He treated people as though they were his minions, as though he were a giant and they were just ants, as though this world was his domain and everyone else had to abide by his rules.
While Charlotte did not want to shatter any social graces, she also could not, in good conscience, sit by and listen to Nathaniel stomp over Alfred and Mary’s wishes like a wayward child in a flower patch.
“Perhaps Alfred and Mary should be the ones to decide how they celebrate. It is their wedding after all, or should we be congratulating you too, Your Grace?”
The words rushed out of her lips before she could close them.
A sense of satisfaction washed over her, but it was short-lived.
There was an audible gasp from Beatrice.
A soft chortle from Agatha. Mary looked down; Alfred looked up.
Edmund arched his eyebrows, and Lydia remained silent.
Clara acted as though nothing had happened.
And Nathaniel stared.
Oh, how he stared.
His gaze was withering, and if it had had any physical force behind it, Charlotte was certain she would have been forced out of the room and perhaps out of the estate entirely.
This time, Charlotte was not going to give in.
She held his gaze, arching her neck back slightly.
Nathaniel’s lips twitched. He picked up a cloth and dabbed the corners of his mouth before folding it and placing it back onto the table.
When he spoke, his words were soft, but the impact of them was such that they could have shattered glass.
“I am the Duke. I am the host. I am the elder brother. I have every say in the matter, certainly more say than a cousin.” His lip curled at this last word, and Charlotte knew she should take it as an insult.
“Even as a cousin, I know to allow Mary some freedom. Are you truly saying that a few guests from town are not allowed?”
“It is not for you to question me.” Nathaniel placed his hands on the table and rose, looming over them all. “It is not for any of you to question me. If you want a wedding, Alfred, then you shall meet my requirements.”
Nathaniel angled his gaze toward his brother, who was still sitting at the table but with clenched fists.
Beatrice finally turned her full attention away from the mess that Agatha had created and approached Nathaniel. A nervous laugh escaped her lips, and a wide, forced smile appeared on her face.
“There’s no need to have such a discussion here. I think we’re all getting a little boisterous because of the heartening meal. Let us have dessert, and then we can retire to the drawing room where we can play cards,” she suggested, nodding enthusiastically to everyone at the table.
“Is there any point if there’s no money involved?” Edmund whispered to Alfred.
“That sounds wonderful. What’s your game, Madam? Bridge, perhaps? We could be on the same team?” Agatha asked. Beatrice shuddered in response and ignored the question.
“I think that would serve to rouse the spirits,” Mary said. She looked across at Charlotte and glared at her. Charlotte wilted a little, smoothing out her dress. She bowed her head, and this time held her tongue, as did Nathaniel.
Beatrice leaned across and whispered something in Nathaniel’s ear, although her voice was quiet enough that Charlotte did not overhear. After this, Nathaniel lowered himself into his chair.
The food was taken away and replaced with colorful, sweet desserts. Clara licked her lips, but the only other person to tuck in with as much enthusiasm was Edmund.
“This is a wonderful feast. I can’t remember the last time we ate as well,” Charlotte said, leaning forward a little and directing her words toward Beatrice.
“You have done a fine job commanding the kitchen, Mother,” Alfred said. “I hope that you succeed just as readily for our wedding. I expect to be able to cater to all our guests.” His words were pointed, as was his gaze.
He then turned to Edmund. “Let me tell you about the meal Mother has planned. She aims to take a cow, a pig, and a lamb, and put them all inside each other.”
Edmund clapped the table, and his laughter rang around the room. “Marvelous! Jolly good. If that’s on the menu, there should be nothing to stop this wedding.”
Edmund laughed, but nobody else did. The comment was a little raw. Charlotte took a bite of the crumbling tart. A crumb got caught in the corner of her mouth. Her tongue darted out and directed it inside. To her surprise, Nathaniel was watching her intently.
This time was different from the other times, however.
This time, he didn’t seem angry or threatening.
He seemed fascinated. Charlotte’s head dropped suddenly, and she focused on her dessert.
Her chest rose with a deep breath, and her heart quickened.
She could handle him being perturbed by her, but fascinated?
No, that seemed entirely wrong.
Yet the tension between them was unmistakable. At dinner, it had been impossible to ignore him, but at least while they played cards, she could position herself as far away from him as possible.
Yes, she decided that was the best solution, distance. At least then she might be able to hold her tongue and prevent herself from ruining Mary’s chances of marriage. It seemed that the harder she tried to support Mary, the more she risked everything.
One by one, they rose from the table and exited the hall; the ladies departing for the drawing room, ready to be joined by the men later. As Charlotte left, she glanced over her shoulder. Nathaniel was still standing at the table. He was looking at his empty chair.
In that moment, she would have given anything to know his thoughts, even if they frightened her.