Chapter One #2
“Yes, but if things turn out as we all hope, you will soon have a new home of your own—will that not be nice?” Lavinia turned to her husband, who was speaking to his father about an issue with a tenant farmer.
“Miles. Are you not thrilled for your sister? Off on her grand adventure. She is sure to return to us engaged, do you not agree?”
Miles nodded in agreement and smiled at his younger sister. “Indeed, we wish you great success in making a match, Charlotte. I am sure Dorothea will find someone agreeable to you. Someone, perhaps, who shares your love of the out of doors, music, and the arts. That would be ideal.”
Lavinia gave a shrill laugh—which once perhaps sounded musical but now was closer to a cackle.
“Ideal? My dear, let us not forget your sister will turn one and twenty this summer. She cannot afford to be choosy, after all.” She turned a stern face to Charlotte.
“Pray, allow me to advise you: if a man can be found who has a decent enough income and is willing to take you on, what does it matter whether he shares an interest in all the things you enjoy? Many a marriage has been settled between two people who have but little in common yet it has been more than content. It is not as though you will spend that much time with him during the day, after all. You will keep busy managing the house and the servants, and—” she paused and Charlotte saw a flash of pain—or was it envy—in her eyes, “—perhaps there will be children, too.” She turned her attention back to her plate as she said fiercely, “What matters is that you find an eligible match and persuade him to propose before your bloom is quite gone.”
Charlotte noticed her brother and father were once again in private conversation and were no longer listening.
She took a slow breath before replying lightly, “I fear you would have me accept anyone at all, Sister, with little regard to my future happiness. And, although I do not believe I will be easily persuaded to think myself in love, I have told Father I shall do my best to be agreeable and submit to Dorothea’s plan. ”
Lavinia gave a simpering smile. “That is all anyone asks, my dear. But remember, with a scant thousand pounds as a dowry and since you are no great beauty you have little but your charms to recommend you. You are very nearly as bad off as our brother Gilbert, who was unfortunate enough to be born the second son who will not inherit the estate. Of course, when he returns from his studies a new curate, he can at least work for his bread, and, as the son of a gentleman, can expect to marry reasonably well. Your future, on the other hand, depends on you making a good match, so do make an effort. You can be charming when you put your mind to it. That is all anyone asks, my dear. Since you are not likely to attract the affections of a very well-to-do gentleman—or a member of the nobility, of course—perhaps a second or third brother from a good-sized estate might come to care for you. You could end up a rector’s wife, or be married to an officer and travel the land.
” She leaned closer and lowered her voice.
“Truly, I confess I am envious of the time you will have at Haverstone—the many dances, dinners, family visits, and so on. ’Twill be quite a change from the dull routine here, though I would not say so to Miles for the world.
I could not have him think I am not content with our life.
I just…I just wish we could be blessed with children.
It would help fill my days…” She fell silent, staring at her plate.
Charlotte felt an unexpected pang of sympathy for her sister-in-law and reached out to gently pat her hand. Lavinia snatched it away.
“Of course, I have my good works for the less fortunate in Doddington, too,” Lavinia muttered. “That must suffice.”
*
That night as she prepared for bed, Charlotte sat at her dressing table, angrily combing out her thick hair.
Lavinia’s comment at dinner about her looks had stung.
But deep down, Charlotte knew her brother’s wife was simply being honest. No one would call me a great beauty.
But, am I so very bad looking? Is that why I had but the one offer?
Charlotte set down her brush and turned her head this way and that, studying her face in the mirror.
She was a bit plain, though not unattractive—no one would call her homely.
She was certainly not the beauty Dorothea was when she captured Lord Gillingham’s heart.
And, even after birthing one child and nearing her thirtieth year, Dorothea continued to be spoken of as exceedingly handsome.
Charlotte sighed at her reflection. A sprinkle of freckles marred an otherwise fine complexion.
Her face was rather square with a firm jawline, like her father’s.
Her gray eyes were more thoughtful than sparkling, and there was nothing remarkable about the shape of her mouth, though she had good teeth.
Her deep auburn hair seemed to be her best feature.
Would that be enough to attract a suitor?
Why could she not have taken after their blonde, lithe mother, as Dorothea did?
Charlotte quickly fastened her hair into two braids, rose from her table, and knelt by the bed to say her prayers.
She felt ashamed of her earlier complaints to her father about Lavinia turning her bedroom into a still-unused nursery and made sure to ask God to bless Lavinia and Miles with a baby.
She rose from her knees, climbed halfway into bed, then dropped down again for one additional prayer.
If I must marry, Lord, I ask You to send me a sensible, kind, intelligent man. One who loves to read, please, if it is not too much to ask. Amen.