Chapter Two
The Honorable Miss Charotte Primrose hid a yawn behind her gloved hand as she stared out the window of her father’s closed carriage.
She, her older sister, and her mother were returning from visits in Mayfair, headed toward their townhouse in Manchester Square, and honestly, there were twenty other places she’d rather be than in that vehicle.
Truth be told, she’d rather be anyone else than she truly was, for perhaps that would make life better.
To be fair, it wasn’t all her fault, for her family had always considered her unlucky or born beneath a dark cloud. Mostly due to the fact that she hadn’t been as successful in life as her two older sisters had been.
That made her flick her glance to Esme, her oldest sister.
They’d visited one of Esme’s friends, whose mother was also a contemporary of their mother’s.
Gossip had been the order of the afternoon while they’d taken tea, and very quickly, Charlotte had grown bored.
While she’d wanted to peruse the library, she didn’t have the courage to tell her family that was what she’d wished to do.
Her mother clicked her tongue before heaving a sigh.
“I can hardly believe that you are seven and twenty, Charlotte.” She shook her head.
“Lady Brooklyn’s daughter who is your age has been married for five years and has two children.
” A pout tugged at the corners of her mouth. “You, though, are still not wed.”
“As if that is a black mark against your name instead of merely mine,” Charlotte couldn’t help but shoot back in a retort. This had been going on for years, and it had grown beyond annoying.
“It is, indeed, as if I have failed as a mother.” Of course her parent would retreat into high dudgeon. “As if we weren’t already working with your age and you being on the shelf for so long, you wear spectacles. It’s quite the shame, really.”
From the tone of her voice, it sounded as if Charlotte’s poor vision was a personal affront. “There are some women out there who just don’t take in society.”
I am one of them.
Her mother harrumphed. “I honestly don’t think you’ve tried hard enough to make yourself likable, dear.” Then she transferred her attention to Esme. “Surely your husband has eligible friends?”
And that was how it had always been with their family.
Since Charlotte was the youngest of four children, she had mostly been overlooked, especially since her siblings were a bit on the over-achieving end.
When she’d been twelve, it had been readily apparent that she would need spectacles in order to see far away things.
To her, she hadn’t minded wearing them, for she thought they made her seem more intelligent and they set her apart from the masses.
But apparently men didn’t feel the same way, for they never looked at her a second time. Occasionally, she was asked to dance, yet no one ever came back for another set. If it wasn’t the spectacles keeping men away, then she had to assume it was merely her.
She turned her head and stared out the carriage window once more.
Her first, second, and third Seasons had been exciting, of course, but none of the eligible men during those years had caught her eye or her heart.
As much as she adored dancing, there was only so much of it she could do before growing bored.
On the same token, there were only so many sweets at refreshment tables she could eat before she grew sick of them.
By and large, the majority of the men didn’t wish to discuss books or literature; they only wanted to talk about themselves.
How dull
“Are you even listening to me, Char?”
Her mother’s stringent voice wrenched Charlotte from her thoughts. “What?”
“I said that Esme was engaged by the end her first Season.”
Charlotte blew out a breath that ruffled the curls on her forehead.
“Yes, well, when has she not been the paragon of virtue every girl should strive toward?” All her life, she’d been instructed to “be more like Esme” or “Esme is so elegant and refined, you can learn much from her deportment.” It always made Charlotte feel more awkward than she already did.
Her sister giggled. She had turned one and thirty earlier that year, and though she had three children, she still looked much as she had in her Come Out year.
“Do stop, Char. Jealousy gives you unsavory lines and wrinkles.” With a wink, she leaned forward and touched Charlotte’s knee from the opposite bench.
“It’s a numbers matter, sister dear. That means the more men you meet, the more likely you are to find the one meant for you. ”
“Except I’m exhausted from the effort,” she admitted with a shrug. “Why can’t the two of you just let me become a spinster and leave me alone?”
“Because no daughter of mine is destined to be a spinster or a wallflower,” her mother said, with tightly drawn lips and a clenched hand in her skirting.
“Beatrice wasn’t as successful as Esme in that she was engaged during her second Season, but she accomplished it.
You have been a failure in all of them.” She huffed.
“It was one of the reasons your father stopped paying for them. Seasons are expensive when there are no results.”
“There are worse things in life, Mama.” Not that her family cared.
“I can’t think of anything worse than being unwanted by a man,” her mother responded with a sniff, as if Charlotte had done this intentionally.
Charlotte’s mind focused on her middle sister, Beatrice, who hadn’t been able to go visiting with them today.
Yes, Beatrice had been engaged during her second Season, but her now husband was a bounder, and her family didn’t like to talk about him due to embarrassment.
He’d lied and had made up a false history about himself in order to marry Beatrice, and it didn’t matter that the man held the title of baron.
He was in dun territory and had more sins against his name than many criminals in Newgate.
“I refuse to let you and Papa match me merely so I can say that I have a man.” Truly, she had far too much self-respect for that. Beatrice had settled, plain and simple, and now she was paying the price.
Her mother frowned as she rested her gaze on Charlotte. “Don’t you want a husband and a family of your own?”
“I suppose…” But that all depended on the man. Marry the wrong one and ruin a life. Or worse. “However, there are many other things I’m interested in at the moment.”
Esme chuckled, then gasped and clutched their mother’s hand. “You know, Mama, Lord Littern is looking for a second wife,” her sister said. “He isn’t too old and still has most of his teeth. For a man that age, he is considered quite the catch.”
Oh, dear God.
Charlotte couldn’t help pointing her gaze at the carriage roof before landing it back on her sister.
“Lord Littern has two young children because he lost his wife two years ago in childbirth. He doesn’t want a wife; he wants a new mother for his children.
” The thought of being considered little more than a governess was quite off-putting.
“And if I were to fall pregnant merely because he rutted with me due to my sudden status as a wife, those children would only add to the mix, and that sounds exhausting.” She shook her head.
“No thank you. I’d rather remain a spinster. ”
“Goodness, Char, you make yourself out to be a martyr.” Her mother huffed. “Of course it’s all exhausting, but that’s a woman’s lot in life. She runs a household, she has a family, she manages it all, and all the while, she makes her husband look good in society.”
“As if that is a woman’s responsibility.
If a man wants to be seen as better than he is, he should work at being a better person.
” A shiver went down her spine, and for whatever reason, another flash of spirit energized her.
“Besides, the whole lot of a domestic woman sounds horrid. Perhaps that is not for me.” It didn’t matter that she wanted to know what it felt like to be desired by a man in the physical way, she refused to settle for a horrible husband merely to be bedded.
At least she’d had a fiancé at one point, but the misfortune she lived under transferred to him, and he’d perished, not in the war or some other honorable way, but by being struck by a runaway mail coach one winter’s afternoon as he’d been crossing the street.
After that, she hadn’t had the heart to form an attachment again. It was simply too messy.
“As if women have anything else to do in this life,” her mother said with a shake of her head.
“Marriage and motherhood are what you were raised for, Charlotte. There is simply nothing else to do that doesn’t require scandal.
” She leveled a hard gaze on her. “I, also, might have an eligible candidate. Perhaps we should invite a few men over for a dinner party soon.”
“That sounds like a nightmare.” Charlotte stifled a groan. The protest would have fallen on deaf ears anyway, so she turned her face to the window once more and tried not to think of the horrors awaiting her in the future.
But her mother wasn’t finished with the conversation. “Sooner or later, you’ll need to stop being so picky, Char. It’s embarrassing to have a daughter so old in years who hasn’t been married and who doesn’t seem interested in matrimony.”
“It’s not that I’m uninterested. It’s just that I’m discerning.
” She curled her fingers into her skirting to hide the tension in her hands.
“But I’m sorry my ill-luck is making you an object of concern, Mama.
How do you think I feel? I’m the one who fields pitying looks at every society event I go to.
I’m the one who is made to sit with the wallflowers and other unwanted young women, and I don’t even fit in with that crowd.
” She shook her head. “I’m the one who is asked to sit with grandmothers and other elderly guests because their own family members don’t wish to attend to them those evenings. ”