Chapter Sixteen
"Goodness, it looks…imposing," Charity said as the carriage pulled up to Gracewood Castle.
"Do you think?" Constance asked, looking up at the vine-covered sandstone and smiling to herself. "I think it looks rather magical."
"Of course you do," Charity said, but Constance didn’t get a chance to ask her what she meant, for the carriage came to a halt and a footman opened the door.
He didn’t come outside to greet her this time, and she wondered if that was because his mother was present and it was not really the way things were done. He was an earl, after all – of course he shouldn’t be racing outside to greet a lady.
She hoped he would not mind her bringing Charity.
It suddenly occurred to her that he was rather a private man, and perhaps she should have sent a note to tell him before bringing her.
But it was too late now, for the butler was already walking them down the corridor to the parlour and preparing to announce them.
"Lady Constance Beaumont, your lordship, and Lady Charity Beaumont," he declared.
The door swung open fully to reveal the Earl, standing to greet them, and the Dowager Countess sitting primly in a chair in the corner, her steely eyes seeming to appraise them.
"Con-Lady Constance," Ezra said, bowing his head. "And this is your sister, I presume?"
Both ladies curtsied.
"Yes, it is. She arrived quite unexpectedly, so I hope you do not mind that I brought her to tea."
Ezra smiled warmly at her. "Of course not. Lady Charity, you are very welcome here. May I present my mother, Lady Gracewood?"
They both curtsied again before taking a seat on the blue floral sofa, with Ezra seated opposite them.
"I have heard so much about you, Lord Gracewood – and your beautiful castle, of course," Charity said with a grin on her lips.
"Of course you would have heard about the castle," Ezra said, a twinkle in his eye, and Constance rather felt as though she were being teased.
"What brings you away from the Season, Lady Charity?" the Dowager Countess cut in. "Two marriageable young ladies leaving London to spend the rest of the Season in rural Northumberland: it certainly raises questions, doesn’t it?"
"Mother…" Ezra said in a warning tone. "I’m sure the ladies have good reason not to be in London."
Charity smiled, though it took a moment to reach her lips, and Constance wondered once more what the real reason was for her sister leaving London.
"I missed my sister," Charity said, reaching over to squeeze Constance’s hand. "And I had seen enough of London for this year. Do you ever visit the city, Lady Gracewood?"
Charity was always skilled at moving conversations on, smoothing out rough points and making everything seem easier.
Constance had always admired it about her, along with her beauty.
But now she rather thought she would be compared unfavourably to her younger sister.
Who would want Constance when Charity was right beside her?
"Not as often as I would like," Lady Gracewood said. "At my age, the journey is too long, really – and my son does not care for it."
"That is a shame."
"But a beauty like you – why, I cannot imagine why you would wish to escape the London Season. I’m sure you were the belle of every ball?"
Charity gave a short laugh and reached for her teacup. "You are too kind, Lady Gracewood. But please, let us not just talk of London. I want to hear about Northumberland, and the balls you have had here. They are surely far more interesting."
"I doubt that," Lady Gracewood said, "but they are amusing, I grant you. You know how it is – the gossip, the drama, the ripples caused by a new guest."
Lady Constance sipped her tea and rather thought she was in danger of fading into the background entirely.
She didn’t know whether the Countess’s remarks – about a beauty like Charity wanting to be in London, or about the ball – were intended to highlight her own failings, but she felt as though they were.
Because, of course, it made sense for Constance to leave London. There was nothing for her there.
But for a beauty like Charity…
She caught Ezra’s eye and smiled, and he smiled back. He noticed her, at least.
"There is to be another ball at the Assembly Rooms in Amblewood next week. We were planning to attend, weren’t we, Ezra?"
Ezra’s gaze was torn away as his mother spoke to him. "Yes, we were."
"Well then, Lady Charity must come, mustn’t she?"
"Yes, indeed," Ezra said quickly, and Constance felt her heart drop. Did he prefer her sister too?
And if he did – who could blame him?
◆◆◆
If Lady Charity came, then Lady Constance would be there, and he wanted to dance with her again, especially after whatever had turned sour between them at the last ball.
Her sister seemed pleasant enough, and he was pleased, if she had missed her company, that she now had her companionship once more.
But he was not interested in London, or really in society itself, other than Constance. That was a fact he had to accept.
"If you wanted to see Amblewood Castle in the daylight, you could visit before the ball," Ezra said, cutting across another conversation as the thought came to mind. "I’m sure Lord and Lady Strachan would be pleased to show you around."
"I couldn’t push into their home without an invitation," she said, and Ezra nearly laughed out loud. Was she being intentionally amusing, after the way they had met? The twinkle in her eye as their gazes met suggested she was.
"I can write a note to them, if you wish. I’ve known them a long time, they’re kind people."
"They wanted you to marry their daughter, didn’t they?" his mother cut in, and he cursed inwardly. Did she always have to interrupt a moment between him and Constance? And was she intentionally bringing up any possible romantic connection? Not that it had ever really been a possibility.
"Yes, I suppose – back when they were looking to betroth her, before she was even out in society. She was always too young to be a marriage candidate for me."