Chapter 10
Has my family heard the rumors too? Oh what will my mother think?
Charlotte arrived at Viscount Lambourne’s townhouse with equal parts excitement and dread twisting inside her stomach.
The carriage had scarcely stopped before she spotted familiar trunks being carried through the front entrance, and suddenly the reality of her family’s arrival struck her all at once.
It had been far too long since she had seen her mother and sisters properly.
Yet unfortunately, they were arriving in London at the precise moment society apparently believed she was secretly engaged to a duke.
Wonderful timing.
A footman led Charlotte quickly through the house toward the parlor, where voices carried loudly beyond the doors.
The moment she entered, conversation stopped entirely.
Four pairs of familiar eyes turned toward her at once as her mother, Joan, Irene, and Penelope stared with varying degrees of shock, delight, and dangerous curiosity.
Charlotte smiled despite herself. “It is very good to see all of you,” she said warmly. “I am so glad you arrived safely.”
Harriet rose immediately and embraced her tightly. “Charlotte, darling.”
Charlotte hugged her mother back gratefully before Joan abruptly interrupted from the sofa.
“Oh, enough with the pleasantries,” Joan declared. “We heard the rumors before we left home. Now tell us everything.”
Penelope nearly vibrated with excitement beside her. “Is it true you are engaged to a duke?”
Irene sighed softly. “Perhaps let Charlotte sit down first.”
“No,” Joan said firmly. “This is vastly more important.”
Charlotte closed her eyes briefly.
Of course, this would be the first topic discussed.
She removed her gloves carefully and sat before them with all the dignity she could gather. “I am not engaged to the Duke of Mulford.”
Joan looked deeply disappointed.
Her mother, Harriet, looked delighted regardless. “Then why does everyone believe you are?”
Charlotte exhaled slowly. “It is… complicated.”
“Oh, wonderful,” Penelope said. “Those are always the best stories.”
Harriet settled elegantly into her chair. “Go on then. I want to know why the eldest is the talk of the season.”
Charlotte pinched the bridge of her nose briefly before beginning. “When I first arrived at Mulford Manor, the dowager duchess mistakenly assumed I was the duke’s betrothed.”
Joan immediately burst into laughter.
Charlotte frowned at her. “It is not amusing.”
“It is extremely amusing,” Joan corrected.
“We attempted to correct her,” Charlotte continued firmly, “but her memory is unfortunately rather weak.”
Irene’s expression softened immediately with sympathy. “How sad.”
Charlotte nodded. “She grows confused at times and forgets things shortly after being told.”
Penelope leaned forward eagerly. “So the duke simply allowed his grandmother to believe you were to marry him?”
Charlotte hesitated.
“Well,” she admitted carefully, “it comforted her.”
Joan grinned wickedly. “How very romantic.”
“There is nothing romantic about it,” Charlotte shot back.
“Not even a little?” Harriet said.
“Not even remotely, mother. It is simply a misunderstanding. An unfortunate one, but I will move beyond it,” Charlotte said.
Charlotte then explained the disastrous promenade through Hyde Park, and Elizabeth proudly introduced her to Mrs. Holly and her sisters as Victor’s fiancée.
By the time she finished speaking, Joan and Penelope were laughing openly.
Penelope wiped tears from her eyes. “Oh, Charlotte, only you could accidentally become engaged to a duke.”
“I am not engaged as I have already said,” Charlotte said. Her annoyance was growing increasingly.
“You are socially engaged,” Harriet said with a smile.
Joan laughed harder. Meanwhile, Irene looked increasingly worried. “What will happen now?”
Charlotte sighed. “The duke and I intend to correct the misunderstanding publicly.”
Harriet, who had remained unusually quiet throughout the explanation, suddenly spoke.
“Or,” she said thoughtfully, “you could simply marry him.”
Charlotte stared at her in horror. “Mother!”
Harriet lifted one shoulder lightly. “He is wealthy, handsome, titled, and apparently already halfway compromised.”
“Mother, I beg you to not speak of this in such a way. That goes for all of you. You will be socializing among acquaintances this season, and I want all of you to declare it is nothing but a misunderstanding if the subject comes up,” Charlotte said sternly.
“What?” Harriet asked innocently. “I merely pointed out the opportunity before you.”
Charlotte felt heat flood her face instantly. “There is no opportunity.”
Penelope smirked. “You sound defensive.”
“I sound sensible,” Charlotte said.
Harriet studied her carefully now. “Charlotte,” she said more gently, “you cannot pretend this is not extraordinary fortune.”
Fortune?
The word twisted uncomfortably inside Charlotte’s chest.
Because some terrible, traitorous part of her understood exactly what her mother meant.
A duke. Security. Protection for her sisters. An end to years of worry and sacrifice.
Charlotte hated herself slightly for even thinking it.
“I have no intention of trapping a man into marriage,” she said firmly.
Harriet waved a dismissive hand. “Men trap themselves into foolish situations constantly.”
Joan snorted into her tea.
“Besides,” Harriet continued, “if he truly objected, why continue the charade at all?”
Charlotte opened her mouth.
Then closed it again.
Because… honestly? I do not fully know.
Victor could be arrogant, infuriating, and impossible to understand. One moment, he looked at her as though she irritated him beyond endurance, and the next, he was agreeing to sponsor her sisters without hesitation.
And then there had been the kiss.
Charlotte quickly pushed that thought away.
Absolutely not.
“I simply wish to untangle this disaster quietly,” she insisted.
Harriet looked deeply unconvinced. Charlotte suddenly felt exhausted. For years, every decision she made had revolved around protecting her family. Selling jewelry. Stretching money impossibly far. Sacrificing her own prospects so Joan and Irene might debut properly.
And now?
Now even this absurd false engagement suddenly felt tangled together with her sisters’ futures.
If marrying Victor truly could secure all of them…
Charlotte’s stomach twisted painfully. She did not like the idea of trapping a man into marriage, especially one who so graciously agreed to sponsor her sisters.
No.
She refused to think like that.
Before anyone could continue the conversation further, the parlor door opened, and Viscount Lambourne entered alongside his daughter Bridget.
“Ah,” Oswald declared warmly. “There is our missing niece.”
Charlotte rose immediately with a smile. “Uncle.”
Oswald embraced her affectionately. Though nearing sixty, he remained lively and broad-shouldered with sharp eyes that missed very little. Beside him, Bridget smiled shyly and curtsied politely.
“It is lovely to see you again, Cousin Charlotte,” Bridget said softly.
“And you as well.”
Oswald glanced around the room suspiciously. “Why does everyone look as though scandal has just occurred?”
“Because it has,” Penelope announced gleefully.
Charlotte groaned softly.
Harriet immediately rose with graceful authority. “Dear brother,” she said sweetly, “this parlor is rather warm at this time of day. Would it not be more comfortable in the drawing room?”
Oswald rolled his eyes instantly. “Dear sister, this is my household.”
Harriet smiled tightly. “Yes, and I merely offered a helpful suggestion.”
“A suggestion delivered like military command,” he said with a tight smile.
Joan bit her lip violently to stop herself laughing.
Harriet sniffed. “Your manners worsen with age.”
“And yours improve only when asleep,” Oswald said.
Penelope choked outright with laughter.
“Oswald,” Harriet gasped.
“You arrived less than an hour ago and already rearrange my furniture,” he said, turning a mantle clock on the mantle.
“Because your furniture placement is dreadful,” Harriet said.
“It has remained exactly where it is for ten years,” he said.
“And looked dreadful the entire time,” Harriet retorted.
The girls dissolved into barely restrained laughter while Bridget buried her face behind her teacup in embarrassment. Charlotte laughed too before she could stop herself. And suddenly, after weeks of uncertainty and emotional chaos, warmth spread unexpectedly through her chest.
My family is here. Loud, difficult, overwhelming, and entirely mine.
Charlotte looked around the crowded parlor at Joan’s irrepressible grin, Irene’s elegant composure, Penelope’s mischievous delight, Harriet’s stubborn dignity, and Oswald’s exasperated amusement.
God, I missed them.
Even the bickering felt comforting.
For so long, she carried the weight of responsibility alone that she had almost forgotten what it felt like simply to sit amongst family and laugh.
“Well,” Oswald announced at last, pointing toward Harriet dramatically, “if your mother continues criticizing my household, I shall charge all of you rent.”
Harriet scoffed. “You could not survive without us bringing life into this dreary home.”
“Life?” Oswald repeated. “You brought chaos.”
Penelope grinned brightly. “We inherited that from Mother.”
Harriet gasped in mock offence while Joan nearly fell sideways laughing.
And despite the scandal waiting outside these walls, despite the duke, the gossip, and the confusion surrounding her future, Charlotte found herself smiling.
* * *
Charlotte returned to Mulford Manor just as the late afternoon light turned golden across the stone facade.
The familiar sight of the grand house rising before her stirred conflicting feelings inside her chest: comfort, dread, embarrassment, and something far more dangerous whenever she remembered the duke himself.