Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
This drawing room was bigger than the one where they had shared tea earlier. Wide shelves filled with leather-bound books stretched across the walls. Ominous darkness pressed against the windows. The men shared an after-dinner brandy, the air prickling with the aroma of alcohol.
Lydia, Clara, Agatha, and Beatrice positioned themselves around a small table.
Agatha offered to teach them whist. Charlotte noticed that Lydia did not protest, for they had all learned to play whist a long time ago.
As this continued, Charlotte heard Beatrice become more and more agitated as she kept correcting Agatha on the rules.
The men, who included Nathaniel, much to Charlotte’s dismay, gathered around a liquor cabinet. She hoped that he would take himself elsewhere after dinner, but instead, he had to haunt her. Edmund had picked up a pack of cards and passed them from hand to hand.
“What were you thinking?” Mary asked in hushed tones, preventing anyone else from overhearing.
“I do apologize, my dear Mary. I quite forgot myself. I just thought it was unfair of His Grace to place such restrictions upon you.”
“It is unfair, but that doesn’t mean I can question it. It pains me to say this, but Alfred’s love is not the deciding factor here. I would rather have the wedding that His Grace wants than no wedding at all.”
It pained Charlotte to hear her cousin surrender so easily.
“I shall be more mindful of my words in the future.”
“Please do.” Mary’s words punched the air. She ran her hand along her chin and glanced worriedly over her shoulder before returning her gaze to Charlotte.
“I know that you do not see much merit in marriage, but for those of us who do, the situation can be precarious. I understand that you’re supporting me in your own way, but I fear that if you continue in this vein, it may do more harm than good.”
Mary shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Charlotte’s earlier assurances clearly had not been emphatic enough. Charlotte clasped Mary’s hand and looked her directly in the eye.
“I promise I will not say anything like that again.”
Mary breathed a sigh of relief. “Believe me, Charlotte, your forthright manner is one of the things I love about you, but it is like fire. When controlled, it offers warmth and comfort, but if even a spark gets where it’s not supposed to be…
” She trailed away but made a gesture with her hands that represented a rush of fire.
“My fire shall be a dim glow,” Charlotte assured Mary.
Making this promise was one thing; keeping it quite another, however.
Mary turned and gazed at the room. Edmund and Nathaniel were playing cribbage at a low table while Beatrice was looking stunned.
“How did that happen?” she uttered. She turned to Lydia, who shrugged helplessly.
Agatha cackled with laughter as she turned to Clara. “They think I’m a fool, see, but I still know how to play whist.” She gathered all the cards and then handed them to Beatrice, who still had a dazed look on her face.
“This is the life I want, Charlotte. This is the future I picture for myself. I’m so afraid of losing it,” she said in a choking breath.
“You should take heart from the fact that we are all still here. If His Grace was truly offended, then we would have been shown out, and the wedding would have been canceled.”
Mary’s smile was sad. “I’m afraid that is not how His Grace works.
He is like an accountant, balancing books with additions and subtractions.
He will take the entire visit into account and then, at the end, presuming nothing completely egregious happens, he will make a tally of the good and the ill.
Only then will he come to his decision.”
“That sounds ridiculous,” Charlotte gasped. “How can he reduce behavior to such simple terms?”
“It is the way he has always been. Alfred told me. It’s how he decides which people to keep in his employ as well. And everything is secret. I have no idea how near or far I am from getting married.”
Charlotte stared at Nathaniel as he moved his peg around the crib board. Edmund ran his fingers through his hair and looked despondent. Nathaniel was trying to reduce life to an exact science.
Since her mind was naturally drawn to this way of thinking, she found it strangely admirable, even though she was loath to compliment him. She assumed that she had accumulated plenty of black marks. Was there even a way for her to make up the deficit?
Alfred moved toward them, sipping his brandy.
“It seems that Edmund is quickly learning that it’s pointless trying to defeat Nathaniel at cribbage,” he said. He nodded to Charlotte.
“Madam, I wanted to say that I appreciate the sentiment of your words at dinner, even if the delivery may have been ill-advised.”
Charlotte inclined her head. “I do offer my most heartfelt apologies, sir. As I explained to Mary, I only said what I did in the hope of swaying him to your way of thinking.”
Alfred wore a wry grin.
“I’m afraid nothing has ever been able to sway my brother’s mind. He has always been sure of himself, no matter the situation.” He paused for a moment. “If you wouldn’t mind, might I have a moment with my beloved?”
Charlotte bowed her head and sidled away, a little vexed in truth because she had been able to use Mary as a shield. She occupied herself by looking at the various volumes contained on the bookshelves. They were mostly dry books of military history. Then, her name was called.
It was Edmund.
“Hopeless, utterly hopeless,” he said, and then called Charlotte’s name again, beckoning her with a vigorous wave. “You’ve always bested me at cribbage. Now, it’s time to play for the honor of our family.”
“I’m not sure this is the right time.” Charlotte’s heart skipped a beat. She glanced toward Mary, fearing that if she was forced to sit at the same table as Nathaniel, then she would say something she would later regret.
“You don’t strike me as the type to pass up a challenge, My Lady,” Nathaniel said. There was a goading edge to his words, a taunt that Charlotte could not ignore. She wrestled with herself but eventually moved toward the table.
“Would you like the first box?” Nathaniel asked, pushing the deck of cards in front of her.
“Let’s cut for it,” she suggested and lifted some cards from the top of the deck. She turned over the ten of diamonds. Nathaniel did the same but revealed a king. He gathered the cards and gave them a shuffle.
“I must assure you that I will put up more of a test than your brother,” he said, dealing the cards.
“Good, because I have not lost to him in many years.” Charlotte gathered the cards close and examined them. Nathaniel placed his cards down first, indicating that either he had an easy choice or he was decisive.
They played a few hands. It didn’t take long for Charlotte to realize that Nathaniel was not joking when he said he would prove to be a challenge.
There were times when he seemed to be able to anticipate the cards she would play.
She had to call on all of her resources.
When they reached the halfway point, she was only a few points behind him.
Nathaniel raised an eyebrow, and she could almost believe that he was impressed.
“I must say, you are giving me a closer game than your brother,” he said.
“A closer game than most, I hope.”
He inclined his head, suggesting that this was the case.
“Some people believe cribbage to be a game of luck.”
“There is luck involved, as there is with most card games, but I’ve always believed the important thing about luck is what you do with it. Some people can make good use of their advantages, while others cannot.”
“I quite agree. One can only play the cards they are dealt after all,” he said, annoyingly scoring quite highly and increasing the gap between them.
“I notice you favor scoring runs.”
Nathaniel arched an eyebrow. He took a couple of moments to reply, indicating that he was considering something.
“I find they offer the opportunity to spread points. Sometimes with runs it’s possible to score fifteens as well.”
“Although if you miss an integral card, you could end up with nothing.”
“Risk is sometimes part of the game. I’m sure you’re well aware of that, My Lady.” His gaze flicked up at this, and Charlotte’s heart caught in her throat. She hoped he wouldn’t notice the way her hand trembled as she laid her card down.
They went back and forth, counting up to thirty-one, scoring fifteen, and counting their points.
Pegs were hastily slotted into the board.
Every hand brought them closer to the end.
Charlotte glanced at the board, doing a quick count.
She needed to score highly on this hand; otherwise, she wouldn’t stand a chance, as he had the advantage of scoring his hand first.
“I notice that you favor holding the Ace. I wonder if you place too much emphasis on trying to score thirty-one,” he said, just as Charlotte was debating whether to keep an Ace in her hand or place it in her box.
“I find that a good pegging during that phase can often make the difference between winning and losing. Most players favor collecting fives and picture cards after all,” she pointed out.
That had always been Edmund’s strategy, and it had been easy to counter.
He had never bothered to think of another way to play.
Nathaniel was different, however. He showed impressive flexibility with the cards he played and always seemed to find a way to score. To prove him wrong, Charlotte decided to play an ace out of her box. To her dismay, an ace was flipped over.
To make matters worse, Nathaniel played picture cards, worth ten points. If she had held onto her ace, she would have been able to steal some points from him. Nathaniel counted a few fifteens and then marched his peg home, claiming victory.
Charlotte was deflated, staring at the cards she would no longer be able to play, quickly thinking back to the mistakes she had made. She placed the cards down on the table and looked toward her competitor.
“Good game, Your Grace.”
“And to you, My Lady,” he replied.
She was waiting for the veiled insult, for the arrogant smirk, for the hint that she should never have bothered to grace the same cribbage board as him.
However, none of that came. He seemed genuine in his gratitude, and his gaze lingered on her.
For a moment, she caught it falling to her lips, and then he drew it to the cards.
“Perhaps we could play again during our stay,” she suggested.
“Perhaps,” he replied, and it annoyed her that he remained noncommittal about it. He placed the cards back in their box and folded the cribbage board.
At least she had been able to challenge him. Perhaps now he would not belittle her so readily. And the next time they sat down across from one another, she would win. Currently, he held the victory, but she would take it back.