Chapter Thirty-Eight
As Charlotte had hoped, each meeting with Mr. Morton became slightly less awkward and stilted, and it was soon more pleasure than pain to be in his company.
After working to compile a list of everything that needed updating in the parsonage, they made three trips into the village to consider fabric and papers, always accompanied by an under housemaid from Clayton House.
Charlotte did not think it quite so necessary, but Frederick insisted, explaining he would not risk doing anything that would possibly compromise her reputation.
To her mind, this was yet another way for him to convey he had no romantic inclinations toward her. It made her oddly melancholy.
Still, by the time they had finished making their selections, Charlotte felt nearly as comfortable with Frederick as she had before his brother had disappointed her.
Their conversations were no longer strained or filled with pauses, and she often found herself smiling.
She even, on more than one occasion, was surprised to hear herself laugh at some jest or comment by Frederick.
Two days before Frederick was planning to leave to collect his things from the rooms he had rented after quitting Brentwood, he and Charlotte made one last visit to the upholsterer shop to confirm the planned work.
On their return walk from Doddington, with the under housemaid trailing behind, he had thanked her for all her efforts.
“I shall always think myself exceedingly obliged to you, Miss Kendall,” he said.
“Your father’s generosity of offering me the living was a very fine thing, but your efforts to help improve my future living situation will just convince me of the good sense in taking the position.
Indeed, I am grateful to the entire Kendall household. ”
The entire household, not just to her, thought Charlotte before replying, “Please know how glad I am to assist. I wish you every happiness as the new rector, and I hope you will be very content here.”
“I am certain I shall be.” There was a long pause, before he spoke again. “Though, if I may—there is but one more thing that could make me even more content.”
“Oh, is it the rug in the smaller drawing room? I knew we should have replaced it. It is not too late.”
“No, it is not the rug.”
Charlotte halted and gave him a concerned look. “What then? Please speak, and I shall do all I can to make it right.”
“Before I answer, will you oblige me by telling me whether or not you plan to remain at Clayton House? Or do you intend to return to Haverstone?”
Charlotte gave a bit of a start. “How funny you should ask. I received a letter from Dorothea just yesterday urging my return. She has two gentlemen she believes would be very eager to renew their addresses to me. I know she had gently put them off when we believed your brother was about to propose, but apparently she has now dropped hints in the ear of that county gossip Mrs. Sanders of my unattached standing, and both men have called to inquire about my return.”
She resumed her walk again, and he accompanied her in silence before asking, “May I ask who these gentlemen are? Would you—that is—could you see yourself in a happy marriage with them?”
“The gentlemen are Mr. Shelby and Mr. Cartwright. They are amiable enough and have shown interest in becoming better acquainted.”
“But, you cannot at this time say you have great affection for either of them?”
Charlotte gave him a quizzical look. “Affection? No. Not as yet. I suppose I could be content enough with either of them. My entire family insists I marry, and Dorothea has gone to a great deal of trouble to find me a match. So, it may well be by the next time we meet I shall be an engaged woman.”
“I see. It would be nice to have a house to call your own, I suppose.”
Charlotte gave a small laugh. “It would rescue me from being governess to Lavinia and Miles’s child.”
“But, you would not wish to rush into an intimacy on so slight an acquaintance,” Frederick said seriously. “You must be absolutely certain of your heart’s course. I say this as a rector and…as a friend.”
Charlotte sighed. “You are kind to care. It is possible the two gentlemen may improve upon acquaintance. Be assured—should I be absolutely convinced marriage to either of them would not secure my happiness, I would refuse them, even at the risk of my sister’s severe disapprobation.”
By this point, they had returned to the rectory where they parted, and Charlotte and her companion continued on to Clayton House.
It was not until she was changing clothes for dinner that Charlotte realized Mr. Morton had never revealed the one thing that would make him even more content at the parsonage.
*
That evening, dinner at Clayton House was very pleasant for all.
Charlotte no longer felt ill at ease to be in Frederick’s company and Lavinia, as usual, expertly directed the flow of conversation.
Following the meal, Charlotte and Lavinia withdrew to the large drawing room and relaxed a while before the gentlemen finally joined them.
“Do you wish to play cards, Mr. Morton?” Lavinia asked. “You could join Miles and me and Charlotte in playing Commerce, although we do not play for real money so you will not have to disapprove of us gambling.” She laughed. “We have a fine set of ivory tabs we use to keep track of the winnings.”
“I should enjoy that, Mrs. Kendall, to be sure,” he replied. “However, we four playing would leave your father with naught to do.”
“Do not worry on my account, Mr. Morton,” Mr. Kendall quickly rejoined. “I shall happily sit by the fire and read my book while you all enjoy your game.”
“You mean doze over your book, do not you, Father? You are so prone to fall asleep after dining,” Lavinia teased. “Very well, then. Let us take our places at the table.”
After more than an hour of card playing, during which Frederick surprised everyone by coming out the winner, Lavinia played the pianoforte, singing in her somewhat nasal voice.
At ten o’clock, servants brought in refreshments and, after filling his plate, Frederick maneuvered himself to sit next to Charlotte.
Mr. Kendall was, indeed, now dozing by the fire, and Lavinia was conversing with her husband about needed work on one of the side gardens.
Frederick kept his voice soft as he asked, “May I inquire, Miss Kendall—have you set a firm date to return to Haverstone?”
“Not yet, Mr. Morton. I have been delaying writing to Dorothea, but I fear I must reply to her letter soon. So far, I have been able to use my father’s illness as my excuse to remain here, but he is fully recovered now so I suppose I must return within a week or ten days.”
“Then, we shall just miss each other,” he replied. “For I shall leave day after tomorrow to collect my things. I am told it will be nearly two weeks for the workmen to make all the changes we have ordered so by the time I return here to the renewed parsonage, you will have gone.”
“It seems so. I am certain you will make an excellent rector to the parish, Mr. Morton. I am so happy for you. You have a promising future.”
“Thanks to your father.”
“He would not have chosen you had he any doubts, believe me.”
“But, when might we next see each other? I am eager to renew my—that is, resume our drawing lessons.”
Charlotte made a helpless gesture. “I cannot say with any certainty when I shall be back at Clayton House. I shall, however, look forward to continuing our lessons someday, and I promise, I shall practice all that you have taught me quite diligently in the meantime.”
Frederick glanced over at Miles and Lavinia before turning slightly on the settee to face Charlotte.
He leaned in and spoke in a low and urgent voice.
“Miss Kendall, I know it has not been very long since your disappointment, but may I ask you—are you…that is—do you feel more recovered from the pain my brother inflicted upon you? Because I should very much wish to be assured that you are not plagued with romantic thoughts and longings for him in any way.”
Charlotte took a long moment to answer. “I am not quite certain of my feelings. At times, there is still pain and sorrow over what transpired between us. Then again, some days it recedes to the back of my mind and troubles me but very little.” She gave a small smile.
“You are so kind to take note of and care for the discomposure of my spirits. It is why I know you will be an excellent pastor here.”
“It is not just in that role that I ask or care, Miss Kendall,” he said, focusing his eyes on her. “I would wish to tell you that—”
“Charlotte! Do come join me at the pianoforte,” Lavinia loudly called. Mr. Kendall, dozing by the fire, dropped his book and snorted awake. “I wish to play this duet. And do not worry, I shall give you the easy half. Come, come.”
With an apologetic nod to Frederick, Charlotte went to oblige her sister. They performed for another hour before the party broke up, and Frederick thanked his hosts and returned to the parsonage for the night.
*
That night, Frederick found himself unable to sleep.
He rose from his bed and rummaged through some papers he had hastily packed before coming to Clayton House.
Finding what he had hoped, but was not certain would be there, he gave a cry of delight and set the paper aside.
The next day, he would make a final trip into Doddington for a special commission.
One he hoped would help convey to Charlotte what, in words, he had been unable to this evening.