Chapter 16 #2
Anthony was certain he would be the last outside, for it took more than an hour for his belongings to arrive. But as he entered the small garden behind the townhouse, only Mrs. Mandeville stood present, and even she seemed to have arrived only shortly before him.
She turned at the sound of his approach and smiled with relief. “How glad I am to see you. I worried I had missed it entirely.”
“I had the same fear,” he replied. “But as the refreshments have not been touched, I think it is safe to assume otherwise.” He took a plate from the small stack at the edge of the table and handed it to her.
She thanked him warmly and began choosing from amongst the options Aunt Eugenia had provided: cold cuts, various cheeses, and some sliced bread. Anthony followed her example, using the opportunity to observe Charlotte’s mother from the corner of his eye.
She was a handsome woman, with light brown hair and a genuineness to her expressions that made her easy to like.
Anthony estimated her to be near five-and-forty, though the wrinkles she wore made her look older.
Little wonder for a woman tasked with settling three daughters in the world without the support of a husband.
“Your aunt is thoughtfulness itself,” Mrs. Mandeville said. “I sincerely hope she shan’t regret her invitation. I love my girls dearly, but they are a . . . vivacious trio.”
“Which will suit my aunt very well, I assure you, ma’am.”
She looked up at him, smiling appreciatively. “You are just as good and kind as she.” She set her plate down and faced him, a bit of hesitation in her soft eyes. “We know each other only just, Mr. Yorke—”
“Just Anthony, if you please.”
“Very well. Anthony, then. Despite how little we know one another, I must tell you how pleased I am that you and Charlotte found one another. She would dislike my saying this, but since my husband’s death, she has taken a great number of our burdens upon her.
Whenever the rest of us grow sullen, or whenever I have quaked at the prospects before us, she has been the one to remind me not to lose hope.
She is the best of daughters, and I have no doubt she will make the best of wives—and you the best of husbands.
She wants nothing more than to ensure the happiness of those she loves. ”
Anthony could not bring himself to meet Mrs. Mandeville’s gaze and instead ran his finger along the edge of his plate.
His experience of Charlotte was a far cry from the one her mother described, but he had seen her stubbornness and tenacity firsthand, and he was beginning to understand that it was on her family’s behalf that it was all exercised.
“I have embarrassed you,” Mrs. Mandeville said with chagrin. “Forgive me. I merely wished to thank you.”
He frowned. If only she knew the truth: he had threatened her daughter and all but forced her into an engagement that was certain to damage her reputation if anything went awry.
And even if it did not, the termination of it would see her name bandied about in a way no parent wished for.
“Thank me for what, ma’am?” He forced himself to meet her gaze.
Her eyes shone with the threat of grateful tears, though her mouth was pulled into a trembling smile. “For loving my Charlotte.”
He broke his gaze away again. How was it that he could tell a blatant lie to pursue Silas’s freedom, but he could not even bring himself to meet the gaze of a near-stranger?
“She tries to appear independent and self-sufficient,” Mrs. Mandeville continued, “and she puts everyone else’s needs before her own. But behind the facade—”
They turned at the sound of a door closing.
The three sisters were walking toward the refreshments, laughing together. Anthony’s gaze fixed on Charlotte in the middle.
The sight of her with such a carefree smile, flocked by the people she was doing everything in her power to make happy, held him momentarily transfixed.
What would Mrs. Mandeville have said if she had been able to finish her thought?
What was behind the facade? And why did Anthony suddenly wish so fervently to break through it?
The Mandevilles were a vivacious family. As they became more comfortable and more confident that they were not expected to keep quiet or simper, their laughter became more frequent.
Anthony watched with a growing feeling of envy.
The Mandevilles’ interactions reminded him vaguely of the sort of relationship he had once enjoyed with his brothers.
Silas’s escape to France had changed that, though.
The scandal had rocked the family to its core, cracking the foundations.
The secrets Anthony kept had only deepened that divide.
Once the refreshments had been eaten and everyone had returned indoors to rest and prepare for dinner, Anthony paced in his room.
He had yet to speak in private with Charlotte, and it had become more apparent than ever during the time in the garden that they sorely needed to discuss their plan.
They could not spend hours on end with her family and his aunt without such a thing.
He glanced at the door that led to her adjoining bedchamber.
He could simply knock on it—it would be easier to be private with one another that way.
But somehow, he doubted Charlotte would appreciate the presumption on his part—or the intimacy.
He couldn’t forget the way she had looked when he had called her my love.
With a sigh, he turned his gaze from the adjoining door and strode to the one that led to the corridor. He would do things the proper way.
He opened his door and stopped short at the sound of Mrs. Mandeville’s voice nearby. He pulled the door most of the way closed again, stopping before it could make the click that would alert her to his presence.
“You look splendid, my dear,” Mrs. Mandeville said as she stepped out of Charlotte’s bedchamber and into the corridor. “No wonder Anthony whisked you off to that balcony t—”
“Mama!” Charlotte’s scandalized whisper made Anthony smile.
Mrs. Mandeville begged forgiveness in hushed but unapologetic tones, and the sound of her light and retreating footsteps followed.
Anthony waited a few minutes until he was satisfied there was no danger of her returning, then he left his room to knock on Charlotte’s door softly. The door creaked, opening slightly, not having been properly shut.