Perfectly Flawed (12 page)

"I beg your pardon, Moo?" Charlotte's thoughts were
miles away.

"What will you say to the one who returns your hair
ribbon? You must have something prepared," Muriel
whispered. "Have you planned some unfortunate, undesirable trait to tell him?"

"That doesn't sound much like a reward to me, Moo."
At this moment Charlotte did not seem very concerned
with her situation. It might be only a manner of minutes
before the discovery of her ribbon.

"You're just blue-deviled because of Sir Philip, and he
is not worth the effort. Do not forget the reason all these gentlemen are present" Muriel began to think she would
never be able to rid her sister of the plaguing thoughts of
the baronet.

"Do not worry, Moo," Charlotte sniffed. "I shall think
of something eventually. And I shan't fret over him;
there is no need. What do I care if he does not think well
of me?"

"Char-Char." Muriel laid a hand upon her arm to
stress the importance of her words. "Do you not think
that being the center of attention for nearly two dozen
men is enough? Most ladies would be thrilled."

"Of course it is thrilling." But the truth was, Charlotte
did not think as much of them as she did of Sir Philip.

It was of no consequence. Charlotte would not dare go
where she was not wanted-and that place was near Sir
Philip's heart. As Muriel had stated, she had nearly two
dozen eager suitors to pay her court. It was about time
she considered them and addressed their interest in her.

"Mr. Evans, you have returned!" Aunt Penny called
out, glancing toward Charlotte, making sure she was
alerted to her victor's arrival.

Handsome, wavy-haired Mr. Evans appeared, dressed
in a double-breasted cutaway coat, buff kerseymere trousers, and top boots. He held the green ribbon high in the
air, displaying his triumph.

Muriel took her sister by the hand and moved toward
him. "Bravo, Mr. Evans. Wherever did you find it?"

"Apparently as the guests moved from the Music Room
to where we took refreshment, this ribbon decided it wished to remain indoors." He laid it over the Clarenceblue forearm of his jacket and offered it to Charlotte. "It
lay on the floor behind a leg of the pianoforte."

"Thank you so very much." Charlotte blinked up at
him, accepting her beloved ribbon. "I wonder how it
could possibly have managed to be there."

"No matter, Mr. Evans has found it. You must tell
him, Charlotte. He must have his reward," Muriel urged
her sister. "You have promised."

Charlotte found a suitable place to sit and handed her
ribbon to Muriel. "Will you replace it, dearest?"

Muriel fastened the ribbon in Charlotte's hair and
tied it more securely than Lydia had.

Mr. Evans looked on. He preened, fingering his shirt
frill and stock, waiting patiently.

"You shall have your prize." Charlotte smiled at him,
which might have felt to him reward enough. She stood
when Muriel had finished and stepped away. Charlotte
held out her hand and beckoned, "Your arm, sir."

"I would be most delighted, my lady."

Once Charlotte placed her hand upon Mr. Evans'
arm, they strolled toward the parterre. Charlotte gently
guided him in the correct direction with a wave of her
hand.

Muriel had no idea what Charlotte planned to tell him.

"I must see to the other gentlemen," Aunt Penny informed her niece.

As her aunt walked away, Muriel caught sight of someone new approaching. Dressed in a dark green jacket and
smooth buff-colored trousers, Sir Philip neared.

"I see your sister has found her champion," he commented, sounding almost as if he did not care.

"Yes, there is some interest there." The best Muriel
could do was make the baronet believe Charlotte had
designs upon Mr. Evans.

"I had not thought myself interested, in regards toHowever, now I must admit ... " Sir Philip sounded almost unhappy at his realization. "I find I am having
second thoughts about your sister."

She knew it. Muriel knew the dratted Sir Philip had
fallen in love with Charlotte, when he'd all but convinced
himself that Charlotte could not possibly come close to
the suitable wife he had imagined. How could he have
changed his mind so quickly?

Sir Philip's gaze moved to the few gentlemen who
milled about, readying to depart. Perhaps he was sizing
up his competition. If a choice of a husband were up to
Muriel, it would have been simple enough. She would
approve of anyone except Sir Philip.

Arriving at the stone bench in the parterre, Mr. Evans
took up Charlotte's hand, holding it near, and gazed upon
her with wide eyes.

"My dear Lady Charlotte, I am so very fortunate to
have this opportunity to be in your company. I know I
met you only a few days ago, but I must confess I find
myself quite besotted. And I must tell you, I am not to
be dissuaded."

"What was that again?" Charlotte said, turning to face
him.

She had walked alongside him the entire way here
but did not remember much of the journey. She barely
recalled leaving Muriel's company or turning the corner of the manor. Had she and Mr. Evans conversed as
they strolled? Charlotte couldn't imagine what she might
have said to him.

Her attention had drifted upon seeing what she thought
was a solitary horseman arriving just moments ago,
coming up the drive. She had thought it might have been,
possibly could be, Sir Philip.

"I'm afraid I didn't hear you." Then the notion of
what she should say came to her.

Mr. Evans wished to hear of some deficit she hid
from the masses. Tell him, she would-but it would be
a lie, and lying did not sit well with her. Even a little
one. Oh, why did they insist she do this to them?

"I'm afraid I don't hear well on my left side." She
brought her hand to her left ear, indicating her difficulty.

"You can't hear, you say?" Mr. Evans' devotion seemed
to be wavering a bit.

Charlotte thought Mr. Evans needed some added incentive to question his affection for her. "Not to be dissuaded," he had told her.

"Excuse me? Might you repeat that? And please stand
over here." She gestured to her right. "My partial hearing does not bother you, does it?" Charlotte felt that if
he truly cared for her, it should not make the least bit of
difference.

"It cannot matter to me." Mr. Evans did not sound entirely convinced, however. How did he expect Charlotte to believe him?

"That is good to know. I imagine you have already
heard about my eye?"

"Oh, that ... " His voice faltered and he staggered
back a few steps.

"You must come closer to speak"-Charlotte reached
out to draw him near-"else I cannot properly hear
you. "

"I had thought that was a load of gammon," he said,
raising his voice, nearly shouting at her. "A bit of unpleasantness to put some of us off."

"I cannot tell you how pleased I am those things do
not bother you. Now we may be truly comfortable with
each other."

"Yes." He pasted on a smile that even Charlotte knew
to be false.

"I also wish to tell you that my favorite flowers are
tulips." She smiled, waiting to see how he would react to
that.

"Tulips," he repeated flatly. It did not seem to please
him.

"Yes, they bloom in the spring when the cold of winter fades and the days grow warmer." Charlotte continued to watch him. Then to gently remind him, she offered,
"If I am not mistaken, you brought me several tied with
a white satin ribbon the day after we met."

"Did I?" But his heart really wasn't in his reply, nor
was there any ardor. The devotion that he had proclaimed for her only minutes earlier had evaporated. "Oh, yes. I
believe you are correct "

"As if you could have forgotten." She smiled and fluttered her lashes.

He consulted his pocket watch. "I beg your pardon,
but I do believe it is time I be on my way. Again I thank
you for this opportunity, Lady Charlotte." He bowed
over her hand and then headed for the stables. "I shall
never forget this moment "

It seemed that Mr. Evans could not leave fast enough.

No matter. Just as Muriel had told her, it was a test of
his affection. It seemed Mr. Evans had discarded any
interest he may have had.

Her sister's plan had not just come close but gone beyond what Charlotte considered correct behavior. She
could not deny she was leading these gentlemen to believe what she would like to think of as exaggerated
truths.

She followed his path out of the parterre toward the
stables and stopped at the edge of the house. The sight
of Mr. Evans departing on his horse did not mean as
much as the vision of a crested carriage coming up the
long drive of Faraday Hall.

Pure hope and happiness filled Charlotte's heart.
"Look!" she cried out to no one. "Papa returns!"

Charlotte rounded the corner and headed toward the
terrace where she'd left Susan, Muriel, and her aunt.

"Where have the other gentlemen gone, Moo?" Charlotte glanced about. She could see no trace of anyone
near the maze or the east lawn where they'd gathered for
tea earlier.

"They left moments after Mr. Evans returned with
your ribbon," Aunt Penny told her.

"I see." Charlotte had wished to tell Muriel, and only
Muriel, what had transpired during her private audience
with Mr. Evans. "I saw Papa's carriage pull off the road
and come up the drive."

"Your father has returned? We must hurry to greet
him." Aunt Penny wasted no time and rushed toward the
house.

Charlotte made to follow, but Muriel stopped her by
taking hold of her elbow.

"Char-Char, what did you say to Mr. Evans?"

"I told him my favorite flowers were tulips."

"There was something else, perhaps?" Muriel pressed
her to continue.

"I had mentioned some difficulty hearing on my left
side." Charlotte motioned to her ear and straightened her
shoulders, still uncomfortable with the outright lie.
"He took it to mean I was deaf."

"That was well done." Muriel chuckled. "Very clever."

"It doesn't feel clever at all. It is entirely untrue. And I
think it's almost cruel, Moo. The moment we were alone
he told me he did not care about the prize. He wished
only to share my company, if just for a few minutes."

"And I vow it took only a few seconds for Mr. Evans
to change his opinion of you." By the sound of Muriel's
voice, she was disappointed in him as well.

"Yes, I suppose that's exactly what happened. He
does not truly care for me." Charlotte's gaze dropped to
her feet, feeling close to tears.

"I am sorry," said Muriel, but she did not sound sincere. "You could not have cared for Mr. Evans all that
much; you've only just made his acquaintance."

"It is not him precisely," Charlotte confessed. "I am
disappointed by how easily the gentlemen are appalled
by the slightest blemish and then exaggerate them."

"I believe it best that we not mention this to Papa,"
said Muriel as she glanced at the house, looking to
make sure they had not been overheard. "He might not
look so kindly upon this should he learn of it."

"I agree." Charlotte never enjoyed keeping anything
from him.

"Shall we see Papa now?" Muriel suggested.

"Yes, let us go at once." Charlotte braved a smile,
grasped her younger sister's arm, and moved toward the
house.

Muriel and Charlotte entered in time to meet their father and Aunt Penny in the Grand Foyer.

"Yes, I completely understand. Thank you for handling the matter with such delicacy, Mrs. Parker," the
Duke said.

Charlotte and Muriel stopped upon seeing their father
and chorused, "Papa!" They curtsied and then ran toward
him, arms open wide to hug him tight.

"We have missed you so!" his daughters cried. "We
are glad you are home."

"The two of you have had quite the adventure." Their
father returned their affection with a welcoming smile.
"And my lovely Charlotte-it seems the young men could
not wait for you to come to Town. They came to you."

"I am sorry, Papa. I had not meant to cause problems."

"I do not blame you. You have managed the best you
could." The Duke stepped back and motioned behind
them. "See who I have brought with me"

So excited was Muriel, and apparently Charlotte, to
see their father, they had not noticed Sir Samuel Pruitt,
now standing with Aunt Penny.

"Sir Samuel!" Charlotte and Muriel called out. They
curtsied and each offered him their hand in greeting. He
looked to be in good health. His wide, dark eyes and
generous smile displayed his excitement at his arrival.

"Lady Charlotte." Sir Samuel took her hand first. "Lady
Muriel." He bowed over her hand next. "I am delighted to
see the two of you again."

"We saw you just last autumn, did we not?" Charlotte
ventured, glancing at her sister for corroboration.

"Yes, before our first snowfall, as I recall," Muriel
added. He had been on his way to his family home, Hamsdale Heath, in Northumberland.