Chapter Seventeen
"Constance has told me all about the castle," Charity said, when conversation grew quiet. "But it is even more beautiful than I imagined."
The Dowager Countess smiled. "It has been in our family for centuries. The decoration in this room, however, is mainly the late Lady Gracewood’s. She had such an eye for detail, didn’t she, dear?"
"Yes," Ezra agreed, feeling a little awkward at discussing his late wife in this setting, with people who had never met her. He didn’t like talking about her at the best of times, and he felt even more uncomfortable when he acknowledged the strength of the feelings that were growing within him for Constance.
"Oh, and such beauty. If only you had seen her. No other young lady could hold a candle to her, and her death was such a loss to society – as well as to us personally, of course."
"Of course," Lady Charity agreed softly.
Ezra couldn’t help but think that his mother was laying it on a little thick. She and Laura had had their fair share of disagreements, especially about redecorating the castle, something which his mother had thought should be left well alone, as she had redecorated when she became the countess.
But he supposed it was true that one never spoke ill of the dead. And Laura had been a sweet soul, who should have had a much longer life than she had been blessed with. Mother wasn’t wrong there: her death had been a loss to them all.
But still, he wasn’t sure what she hoped to achieve by talking at length about her. Constance and Lady Charity had never even met her, and Ezra did not like to dwell upon her loss, for it made him morose.
"Had you been married long?" Constance asked, directing her conversation to him rather than his mother, which was what Charity had been doing.
"Just over a year," he said, and then looked away. Long enough for him to get her with child; the child whose life had been lost along with hers.
"I’m sorry—"
"I don’t like to talk about it," he cut across her, not enjoying the direction the conversation had taken. Not that he could blame Lady Constance, for it was his mother who had made Laura the topic of conversation.
Constance looked taken aback by his sharp tone, and he immediately felt guilty. "Yes, of course," she said, and then looked down at her tea.
"Well, it has been a delight to meet you, Lady Charity," his mother said, putting down her cup on the table. "And thank you for visiting, Lady Constance."
She was acting as though she were the hostess, as though she had extended the invitation, and irritation rose up inside Ezra.
She was not the countess any more, and she hadn’t been for a long time.
He had let her be in charge because he hadn’t wanted to be – but whether she intended to be or not, her attitude towards Constance was rather rude.
"Yes, thank you both for coming," he said, trying to take charge of the situation. "And we will look forward to seeing you both at the ball at the Assembly Rooms next week."
◆◆◆
Constance knew she was quiet on the journey back to their grandmother’s, but she wasn’t sure if her sister even noticed. Charity filled the silence with chatter, as she generally did, while Constance replayed the tea conversation over in her mind.
The Dowager Countess of Gracewood had very clearly preferred Charity to Constance. Everyone always did. But it had never hurt like it did today. It had never mattered before.
She could live with the Dowager Countess preferring her sister; she wasn’t sure she could ever feel the same about Ezra preferring Charity.
She just had to hope that he wouldn’t fall for her sister’s infinitely more attractive face.
◆◆◆
"Lady Charity Beaumont seemed very pleasant," his mother said when she invited herself to dinner that evening.
"Yes, she was very pleasant," Ezra said equitably. And indeed, he had nothing bad to say about Lady Charity. She had seemed perfectly nice. But he found it hard to pay attention to anyone else when Lady Constance was present.
There was something about her that captivated him. He wasn’t sure he could say exactly what. There was no one feature – just something about her entire being that made him want to turn toward her, as though he were a flower and she were the sun.
Internally, he laughed at himself for thinking something so ridiculous. When had he become such a romantic?
"Although, if you are looking to wed again, and you know I think you should, I think you can do far better."
"Far better than whom?" he asked, feeling like he had missed some vital part of the conversation.
"Than Lady Charity Beaumont! Although she would not be a terrible choice for you."
Ezra sighed. His mother really could be obtuse when she wanted to be. "I have no interest in Lady Charity, Mother," he said.
"But you are considering marrying again?"
"I—" Was he? He supposed he must be, because the feelings he had for Lady Constance were not going away, and he would never propose anything other than marriage to such a respectable young lady.
The thought of marriage terrified him – the thought of loss even more. Marshall had been right; there were issues he needed to face from the past. And yet, he thought that perhaps being without her might be even worse than that fear.
"I’m considering it," he said.
"I am not sure you have an appropriate candidate in mind," his mother said calmly.
"If you knew who I had in mind, why did you mention Lady Charity?"
His mother sighed. "I hoped you might see sense without me having to be plain, but I see it is not so. They are sweet girls, I am sure. But Lady Charity has the looks and the social skills to be a countess – and frankly, her sister does not. Even you must admit she is plain-looking."
"I will admit nothing of the sort," Ezra said hotly.
"And she is quiet and shy and only seems to want to talk about castles. How is she going to be one of the leaders of the county?"