Chapter Forty-One
One week later, Charlotte traveled to Haverstone to share the news of her engagement with her sister.
Lavinia was of the opinion a letter would suffice, but Charlotte explained that she wished to tell Dorothea in person so that she could also thank her for all she had done over the summer.
Plus, she had left her painting kit and so many of her new dresses behind when they fled to Clayton House after her father became ill and she wished to retrieve them.
Ever since Frederick’s offer, Charlotte woke up every day in a state of joy she had never known in her life.
She enjoyed replaying in her mind his proposal and his thrilling kisses, as well as her happy conversation with her father later that afternoon.
Mr. Kendall had shared his whole-hearted approval of the match and expressed his pleasure that his youngest daughter would be living so close by.
As Charlotte thought back on it, she wondered whether somehow her father had, in fact, anticipated these developments when he gave the living to Frederick.
Perhaps it had been his design all along.
She felt she should have realized what her father was doing, but he had always shown so little interest in her life it never occurred to her he would be the surprising instrument of her newfound happiness.
As the carriage approached the final road to Haverstone, Charlotte felt in equal measure excitement for the news she was going to share and longing for her soon-to-be husband.
Husband. She laughed to herself, thinking of how firmly she had been convinced of her unlovable nature and of ending up a spinster.
While Dorothea might be disappointed to learn Frederick was her choice, Charlotte was certain it would all be well.
After all, was not the main object of the summer to find her a husband?
And while she had at one point reconciled herself to marrying a man she did not truly love—someone of Dorothea’s choosing—Charlotte could hardly believe her luck in now being engaged to a man whom she adored with all her heart.
*
Following the happy reunion at Haverstone, Charlotte rested in her room while Becca unpacked her bag.
It did not take long since Charlotte had brought so little in the way of clothes.
Not only was half her wardrobe still here, but she was in great anticipation of making this a short visit.
She already was longing to reunite with her fiancé.
“I think that is all, miss,” Becca said, closing the doors of the wardrobe. “I am glad you are back and wish to say I am pleased to know of your father’s recovery.”
“Thank you, Becca. We all were greatly relieved to see him return to good health.”
The girl bobbed a curtsy and went to the door, but turned back to say, “I hear from my friend at Brentwood that the younger Mr. Morton has the new living at your old home.”
Charlotte raised her eyebrows. That gossip did not take long to travel. “Yes, my father offered him the parish at Clayton House. We all think he will do very well there.”
“Meanwhile, Lady Gillingham is certain you will soon have an offer.”
“What?” Charlotte’s heart pounded. How did word of Frederick’s proposal spread so soon? “What is your meaning?”
“With one of them two gentlemen callers, of course. That is why you came back, is it not—so’s Mr. Shelby and Mr. Cartwright can renew their addresses? Remember, I am counting on you taking me with you as lady’s maid when you move to either of their homes.”
As always, Charlotte was astounded at the girl’s bold manner but did not have the energy to upbraid her, so she merely smiled. “One never knows, Becca. I might just refuse both of them and resign myself to spinsterhood.”
At this, Becca gave a snort and rolled her eyes. “Not if your sister has anything to say about it, Miss.” She bobbed another curtsy and left.
*
Later that afternoon, Charlotte visited the nursery to greet her niece, then went downstairs to the drawing room to join her sister for tea. She had barely put her lips to the tea cup when Dorothea recited the following days’ planned events.
“We shall begin with some shopping tomorrow morning and luncheon out so that everyone may see you are not in the least affected by Mr. Morton’s ill-timed and hasty marriage.”
“Why should we care, Dorothea? He had hardly made his feelings for me common knowledge in the county.”
“That was my belief as well, but as it turns out, dear Mrs. Sanders had made it quite well known all throughout the area of his affection toward you.”
“Why?”
Dorothea made a peeved face. “Well…it is perhaps a bit of my own doing, I am sorry to admit. I was so certain of his intentions I may have…let drop to Mrs. Sanders a hint or two about our expectation of an offer. I do apologize, but you see, that is why we must be very visible in town so that all may witness you are not in the least put out by his abrupt marriage to Miss Graham.” She scrutinized her sister.
“You are over him, are you not? It would not do for you to go comparing Mr. Shelby and Mr. Cartwright to our neighbor. Their properties are not as grand, but they are entirely respectable gentlemen and either would be a good match for you.”
It was time to share the news. Charlotte set her tea cup down and turned on the settee to face her sister.
“It would not matter to me whether either of those gentlemen were heir to the crown itself. I would not take them. Oh, Dorothea, I am already engaged to a man I adore above all others.”
Dorothea nearly choked on her cake at Charlotte’s pronouncement. “What do you mean?” she asked, setting her plate down. “You are engaged? How? To whom?”
Beaming with pride, Charlotte replied, “To Mr. Frederick Morton—the new pastor at Clayton Parish. Oh, Sister, I did not believe I could ever be so satisfied in love. I had convinced myself that Frederick did not care for me except as a friend. But, when he made his feelings of admiration toward me known, I could do naught but reciprocate my similar esteem. And, I pray you will wish me happiness.” Charlotte’s smile faded as she saw Dorothea’s lips press firmly together and a stern expression overtake her countenance.
“His feelings of admiration?” Dorothea asked. “No, my dear, I assure you, his felicitous manner has more to do with your dowry than with your personality.”
Startled, Charlotte gave a little laugh. “Whatever can you mean, Sister? My dowry is but a thousand pounds. Certainly not enough to attract a fortune hunter, which I should never accuse Frederick of being in any case. He loves me despite my small dowry.”
Dorothea shook her head. “Allow me to make this intelligible to you, my dear. Your dowry is not a mere thousand pounds. Thanks to my husband, your dowry is now six thousand. Reginald was generous beyond all measure, and his contribution was all to a mind of getting you a true gentleman as a husband—one with land and esteem—not a pitiful pastor. So, if you believe Mr. Morton wants to marry you, I assure you—it is not for love but for the money that will enable him to live a life of ease and luxury.”
Charlotte jumped to her feet and paced the room.
“I can hardly believe my ears, Dorothea. You secretly increased my dowry? Is this why I so quickly became the most desirable single lady in the county? This is why men were so eager to dance with me and come calling—because of a large dowry of which I had no knowledge? How did word get out? Oh, let me guess—you dropped a small word about it into the ear of that grand gossip, Mrs. Sanders. How could you? You, who constantly are urging me to ‘know my own worth.’ What a joke. The truth is—without Reginald’s help I should be ignored and slighted by all those gentlemen at every dance. Nobody would come calling for me.”
“Now settle yourself, Charlotte. You are a gentleman’s daughter and therefore as desirable as every other lady at any assembly.
Reginald and I merely wished to sweeten the pot, so to speak.
It merely made you more visible to gentlemen and increased the likelihood of them coming to get to know you better.
But, I certainly would have made sure you chose wisely.
I would never have allowed you to marry a fortune hunter or someone ill-suited to your temperament. ”
Charlotte stopped her pacing and turned to face her sister.
“My God—is that why Mr. Robert Morton wanted me? For my money? Is that why he pushed to have me elope, so that after we had our anvil wedding at Gretna Green the six thousand would be his? But, no, it doesn’t make sense—Brentwood is a fine, profitable estate. ”
Dorothea rose and went to take Charlotte’s hands.
“So we all thought. But word has gotten out that Mr. Morton’s father left the estate in such disarray when he passed that his son was about to lose it all.
I must believe that is why Mr. Morton pressed you to go to Gretna Green and why he fled to London after we went to nurse our father.
With you out of the picture, he became desperate.
Somehow, he persuaded Miss Phoebe Graham to do what you would not—elope with him.
She had a dowry of five thousand and it saved Brentwood.
So yes, I confess we had no idea of his designs on your money.
I thought he had no need of your dowry, and I believed he truly cared for you.
“I am so very sorry for the pain he caused you, Charlotte. But now, you must comprehend that his younger brother is entirely no better. Mr. Frederick Morton also has designs on your dowry, most assuredly. For how could he be ignorant of the estate’s financial need or not know of the money his older brother sought?
It only makes sense. On the other hand, Mr. Shelby and Mr. Cartwright have no urgent need for your dowry—I truly believe their admiration for you is sincere.
You see? I am convinced Mr. Frederick’s desire to wed you is simply to bring his standard of living up to what he was accustomed to growing up on a fine estate.
He may say he could be content as a middling-income rector, but after how his brother behaved, how can you doubt that Mr. Frederick’s true admiration is not for you, but your dowry? ”
“Does our father know of all this?” Charlotte asked weakly. “Did you tell him of your gift to my dowry? For he gave his consent to our engagement.”
“No. I had not told him of Reginald’s generosity as I feared it would make him feel inadequate as a father to think the dowry he could provide was not enough.
We intended to tell him later, perhaps. I am certain, however, that should he now know the particulars he would be in complete agreement with me that the Morton brothers just wished to get their hands on your richer dowry. ”
“No. It cannot be,” Charlotte said in a thick voice. “I have been deceived again? I cannot but think that all men are insincere, hateful creatures who care solely for themselves.”
She wrenched her hands from her sister’s and ran from the room, sobbing.