Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
The women returned to the estate in the middle of the afternoon. They were allowed some time to relax and refresh themselves after the rigors of riding. Honoria hadn’t been any better on the return journey, although Charlotte still helped guide her back to the estate.
Edmund visited them all, inviting them to take a walk into town.
“Just the young ones,” he winked, indicating that Beatrice and Agatha would remain on the estate. Beatrice insisted that Clara stay behind as well, stating that she wanted to spend some more time with the girl.
“I never had a daughter, so I feel as though I can make up for lost time,” she said. However, Charlotte suspected there was another motive as she caught the wary looks Beatrice gave to Agatha.
Honoria joined them as well, and they set off with Nathaniel leading the way.
Charlotte and Edmund hung toward the back.
Lydia engaged Honoria in conversation, sharing thoughts about upcoming balls, with Lydia asking for advice.
This pained Charlotte somewhat, as this should have been the role she filled.
She couldn’t help but feel as though she had failed her sister.
“You were right last night, Edmund. She is something of a bore,” Charlotte whispered as they walked along the road to town. The buildings rose before them, smoke rising in plumes from chimneys, a church spire rising as though it was piercing the sky.
“A bore? I’m not sure I called her that. That doesn’t sound like me,” he replied.
“Just how much champagne did you have last night?”
“Enough to be convivial. Now, tell me more about Lady Honoria. It’s not like you to pass judgment on someone so freely.” Edmund rubbed his hands together with glee.
Charlotte sighed, for she was beginning to regret saying anything.
“It’s not a judgment on her character; it’s just that, well, she only wants to get married for all the boring reasons like duty, safety, and the rest.”
“Isn’t that why anyone gets married?”
“No, people get married for love.”
Edmund leaned back and regarded Charlotte with a surprised look. He grinned and chuckled to himself.
“Well, well, Lady Charlotte, if you aren’t suddenly showing your romantic side. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
Charlotte scowled. “Just because I don’t want to get married myself doesn’t mean that I don’t believe in love. You only have to look at Mother and Father to see that.”
The smile fell from Edmund’s face. He hung his head, and a shade of melancholy shadowed his features.
“Yes, well, people get married for all sorts of reasons. I don’t know why you’re letting it bother you so much. Let her at it, I say.”
“But would you want that for yourself?”
“Me?” he placed a hand on his chest and adopted a foppish expression.
Whatever anguish plagued him was swept away with ease.
“I am the most romantic of all the romantics. I am in love with love itself. When I choose to marry, it will be the grandest wedding there has ever been, but that’s me.
Do you honestly believe the Iron Duke would want such a thing?
Duty and obligation are romantic to him. ”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
“Everything must be orderly with him. Traditional notions of romance have no place in his mind. Look at what he’s doing to poor Alfred? He could just give his blessing, but no, he has to go through all the proper procedures. I can imagine his wedding will be an entirely grim affair.”
“I imagine you’re right,” Charlotte agreed, although inside she had a feeling that Edmund was very, very wrong.
She had seen the fire in Nathaniel’s eyes.
She had seen him light up when he spoke about Brutus, when he engaged in discussions about classical literature.
She had felt the tension that rose between them.
It wasn’t something that could be ignored.
But she was.
Honoria was going to be his wife. That was an absolute fact.
Edmund then tapped his nose.
“The less said about this, the better; it’s not our concern anyway.”
Charlotte plodded along, trying to take Edmund’s words to heart.
When they entered town, Mary suggested that they buy some fabric and accessories for an upcoming ball.
The shop was small, and the proprietor was pleased to receive such a large group of guests.
They spread out across the store, although Charlotte’s interest was performative.
If this were an apothecary, then she might have shown more enthusiasm.
Mary and Lydia split off, leafing through various ribbons and fabrics. Charlotte moved to a corner of the store where she could be alone. She pretended to look at some brooches, although none of them were as well-made as Agatha’s.
There was a modest-looking glass where she was standing, intended to allow people to see how well the brooches suited them. Charlotte used it to look at Nathaniel, who was hovering near Honoria.
In some ways, they seemed the perfect match, but looking at them together…
Charlotte couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but there was something off about them.
They were looking everywhere but at each other.
Nathaniel came close to her but then stopped, as though there was an invisible barrier separating them.
There was no attempt made at casual conversation either.
They were more like strangers than anything else.
Perhaps that would all change as they got to know each other better. However, Charlotte thought about how ferocious things had been between her and Nathaniel during their first meeting.
“Cousin, would you come here and help me choose a fabric?” Mary asked. Charlotte blinked and quickly turned away from the mirror, fearing that someone might discover her secret. She approached Mary, who was now by herself. Charlotte could see that Lydia had moved away, looking at bracelets.
“Are you feeling well? You look rosy,” Mary cooed.
“I’m just a little warm.” Charlotte brushed away Mary’s concern. “What assistance can I offer?”
“I want to pick out a fabric for my dress. I’m just undecided.”
“You’re undecided about everything,” Alfred teased.
“Everything apart from you,” Mary fired back, and this kept Alfred quiet. They shared a warm look. The affection shared between them was infectious.
Charlotte turned her attention to the fabrics as Mary shared her thoughts, but she was only half-listening. Edmund had joined Nathaniel and Honoria.
Honoria held up a ribbon and asked Nathaniel for his opinion.
“I think it is a fine choice. It would suit you well,” he replied. Charlotte believed that if Honoria liked it, then she should feel free to get it. She didn’t need to run every decision by Nathaniel, surely? It sounded exhausting.
“I think you could do a little better than that, My Lady. It’s a tad old-fashioned. You need something more colorful, more vibrant,” Edmund said, offering his flashing, teasing smile.
Despite this, Honoria kept hold of the plain ribbon. As Charlotte observed her, Honoria’s gaze did seem to drift toward the ones that Edmund described.
“Charlotte, what do you think?” Mary’s words drew Charlotte’s attention back.
“I think that all of them are good choices. It’s hard to go wrong. But we may need another opinion. Your Grace, since you so adeptly helped Lady Honoria, perhaps you would lend us some assistance? Which fabric do you think Mary should choose?”
“I would never be so bold as to offer my opinion when there are more educated heads around. I’m not sure I can give any more insight than the two of you,” he said.
“But you must prefer one, yes?” she asked, holding them up in turn. One was deep blue, another was purple with emerald thread sewn through in diamond patterns, and a third was red with white lines running through in stripes.
“I do.”
“Which one?”
“That one,” he replied, pointing to the deep blue.
“I prefer this one,” Charlotte said, holding up the red fabric.
They were at odds yet again. Charlotte could feel the tension rising in her heart.
She was ready to explain to him why this was a superior fabric, but also to be told why she was wrong.
A strange sense of excitement rose within her. She felt herself trembling.
But the cathartic repartee never came.
Nathaniel simply inclined his head.
“Then I acquiesce in your judgment. As I said, this is not my area of expertise.”
He sounded calm, and not in the confident ‘I know everything’ way of before. He didn’t seem prepared to be drawn into a conflict.
“But surely you must want to explain your reasons? The opinion of a duke carries a lot of weight, no matter what level of expertise you have,” she said, trying to goad him into a verbal conflict.
“I see no reason to do so. I’m sure that you can serve your cousin better than I can,” he said, offering her a brief smile before turning away. Charlotte frowned, unable to believe that he would so easily avoid a confrontation with her.
She actually missed it. Now that Honoria had arrived, things had changed.
It was to be expected, of course. But still, it felt as though things were a little emptier, as though she had lost something uncommon.
Her gaze lingered on Nathaniel as he turned away from her and stood beside Honoria.
They were silent once again, but they were together.
Unlike her and Nathaniel.