Dating Two Dragons (51 page)

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Authors: Sky Winters

BOOK: Dating Two Dragons
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“I am frightfully in love with her.  Maybe you will come to love Edmund Daniels just as much,” Jason pointed out.

 

“I have never even met the man,” she replied, looking dejected at the thought of marrying such a man.

 

“I have spoken with him a time or two.  He is a polite chap,” he said, trying to comfort her.

 

“Yes, that is just what I want in a husband; a polite chap,” she answered, her sarcasm unveiled.

 

“I have never heard anyone say a word against him,” he continued.

 

“What about his brother?” she asked, looking even more annoyed than she had before.

 

“Augustus?” he asked, confused.

 

“Yes!” she cried as though he was foolish for not immediately grasping her point.

 

“What about him?” he asked.

 

“You may never have heard someone say a bad word about Edmund, but you cannot say the same about his brother,” she pointed out.

 

“You cannot judge a man by his brother.  Besides, he is off on the continent. It could be years before he even returns to England,” he answered, knowing that she was grasping for any reason that he mother might accept as a good premise to reject Edmund.

 

“I suppose that is true.  I would hate to be judged by you,” she said with a disappointed sigh.

 

“You have such a sharp tone.  It is a wonder that any man is interested in marry you,” he teased.  She paused for a moment and started at him.  He could see the wheels turning in her head.

 

“Jason, you are brilliant!” she cried as she rushed afros the room and threw her arms around him neck.

 

“I know that.  What exactly did I say that made me so brilliant?” he asked, laughing at her exuberance.

 

“I just have to make sure that he does not want to marry me,” she said, looking so pleased with herself that he could not help but smile.

 

“How are you going to do that?” he asked, not sure what her lovely, spirited sister could do to make any man stop desiring to have her as his wife.

 

“I'll just be myself.  You know how improper mother says I am,” she answered, looking happier than he had ever seen her about their mother’s constant disapproval of her.

 

“She will never allow that,” he said as he shook his head.

 

“Yes, but mother has invited them here next week to finalize their evil plans.  I'll just be my sparkling self and let him and his elitist family see exactly what kind of a life they would be in for with me as his wife,” she said, laughing as she twirled around with joy just as she had when she was a little girl.

 

“Mother will kill you,” he said solemnly.

 

“Oh please,” she said, brushing off his concerns.

 

“She will not forgive you,” he continued, needing her to fully understand the implications of her plan.

 

“She will not have to.  I'll move out as soon as it is done,” she said, smiling even wider at the possibility.

 

“You? A single young lady!” he said, shocked at her suggestion.  He had always indulged her independent spirit, but that was beyond even what he would fathom for his younger sister.

 

“I'm not going to take a place of my own but I think that Mother will be angry enough that she will not want to see me.  I'll move out to the smaller cottage near the lake,” she said, a dreamy look on her face as she thought of the sweet little cottage that their nanny had lived in when she and Jason were young.

 

“It has been empty for years,” he said, though the cottage might be the only place that she could move to without causing some sort of scandal.

 

“I'll still be on the family property. Nobody will question it. I will take a maid or two so that there is no impropriety,” she said as though it was the simplest solution in the world.

 

“You are crazy,” he said, though he could not help but smile at her.

 

“It will work.  You will see,” she said with her usual confidence.

 

“I love you sister,” he answered simply.

 

“And I love you brother! Will you be here when they come?” she asked, hoping that he could provide a buffer for her when Edmund and his family arrived.

 

“No, I am afraid I won't. I need to get back to Valeria,” he said of his bride, who had stayed at their home in town to make preparations for a dinner party they were having the next day.

 

“I wish you would bring her back with you at the end of the week.  Mother is planning a dance for all the neighbors to impress the Daniels.  I think her plan is to use the opportunity to announce an engagement,” she said, her expression showing him just how displeased she was with that plan.

 

“Well, if your plan succeeds there will be no announcement,” he pointed out with a grin.

 

“No but there will still be a dance and you and Valeria would make to tolerable,” she said, using her best sad eyed look to convince him to return and bring her best friend with him,

 

“I will do my best,” he conceded.

 

“Thank you,” she said with a knowing smile, realizing that she had won the day and convinced him to return for the dance. 

 

Chapter 2

 

That afternoon, Charity was cornered by her mother and rushed off to the countess’s suite to try on the largest array of dresses that she had ever seen in preparation for the activities that her mother had planned for their guests.  After attempting to argue that she had more than enough clothing options, her mother informed her that there was nothing in her closet that would do.  Knowing that it was pointless to argue, Charity allowed her mother’s maid to help her in to dress after dress.

 

“Mother, they are just people,” she said after her first hour of trying on an endless string of gowns.

 

“His father is an earl,” her mother said as she shuffled through the dresses that were laid out on her bed.

 

“So is Father,” Charity argued, though she knew that her mother would not be swayed.  Her father was the least earl like earl who had ever had the title.

 

“Yes, well your father does not pay any attention to the things an earl should,” her mother said, holding up a particularly showy red dress in her hands.

 

“But he pays attention to the things a human should,” she continued.  To Charity, there was not better person in the entire world than her father.  Money mattered little to him, but the welfare of the tenant farmers on their land was the most important thing to him with the exception of his family.  As his only daughter, he has always particularly doted on her.

 

“Do not be foolish girl,” was her mother’s only response.

 

“I am not being foolish,” she argued from behind the dressing screen as her mother’s maid tightened her in to a particularly plain, pale yellow gown.  She liked it immediately, but knew that it would not pass her mother’s review.

 

“Yes, you are.  You are foolish and naïve,” her mother said bluntly.

 

“Mother,” she sighed as she came out from behind the screen.

 

Her mother barely glanced at her before saying, “That color washes you out.”

 

“I like it,” she said, looking down at the embroidery around the bodice and cuffs that looked like vines.

 

“Nobody will notice you in it.  Go and put on the red dress,” her mother ordered as she thrust the dress to her made.

 

“I will not wear red,” Charity complained, looking at the showy piece of fabric draped over Gwen’s arm.  Gwen had been her mother’s maid for a decade and she knew better than to delay in doing as the lady of the house said.

 

“Try it on,” her mother said, pointing to it as though Charity was a petulant child.

 

“Yes Mother,” she sighed. 

 

“You know, any other girl would be grateful to have their mother arrange such a match for them,” she continued conversationally.

 

“I am not just any girl,” Charity argued as Gwen pulled the corset tight.

 

“No you are not.  You are special and you must have a husband who is just as special,” her mother said, with a sly smile that told her she had fallen right in to her mother’s trap.

 

“I do not want to marry,” she admitted, bracing for her mother’s reaction.

 

“That is nonsense.  You must marry,” her mother said, looking at her as though she had said she had seen heads or had grown a tail.

 

“Why?” she asked as she came around the corner of the screen.  Her mother did not bother to answer her, though.  She was too busy taking in every detail of the showy red dress.

 

“Oh, the red is divine.  Every eye in the room will be in you,” she squealed with joy.  The neckline was just a bit lower than the rest, playing up her lovely figure while the shine of the fabric made it glow.  Charity could not deny that it was a lovely dress, but it was not a dress that spoke to who she was.  In fact, it was a dress that she could very easily see her mother wearing in her younger days.

 

“I would hate that. You know that,” she argued, crossing her arms to cover herself.

 

“This is not a time to be shy, my Daughter,” she said gently.

 

“Please mother, any other gown,” she pled.

 

“Very well,” she sighed in disappointment.  “Try the gold but be quick about it before I change my mind.”

 

“Alright. You know that this dress is too much for such an intimate gathering though,” she said as Gwen helped her to slip in to the flowing golden gown.  It was truly lovely, like nothing that she had ever seen before.  It was delicate and special and she had never felt as beautiful as she did in the moment when she looked down at herself in the dress, which scarred her a bit.

 

“It will be a large enough dance to justify it,” her mother said dismissively.

 

“Yes Mother,” she answered.  The moment she came out from behind the screen, her mother’s eyes lit up and she knew that they had found a gown that they could both agree on.

 

“Oh my girl, you look stunning. It suites you so well,” her mother said as she crossed the room to get a closer look.

 

“Thank you Mother,” she said, unable to resist looking at herself in the mirror. 

 

“No sassy remarks? Are you feeling well?” her mother teased.  It caught her off guard.  Her mother was not usually one for humor.

 

“I do not always have negative things to say, especially about such a pretty dress,” she said defensively.

 

“Then it is settled.  You will wear the golden gown for the dance on the last evening of their visit.  It will do well for such a special occasion.  You will wear the maroon day dress when they arrive tomorrow and the dark blue riding habit with the light blue silk dress when we go on our picnic the following day.  You will make quite an impression,” her mother said, beaming with pride in such a way that Charity had never seen her before.

 

“You know that that silk dress is too constricting for me to ride in,” she pointed out, hating to ruin the sweetness of the moment and her other’s obvious joy.

 

“That is my plan girl. My need you as restricted as possible or you will be off jumping fences, terrify the poor man,” her mother said, staring at the remaining dresses.

 

“Mother,” he sighed.

 

“And you will not ride that hellish beast of yours,” her mother continued.

 

“Zeus is not a hellish beast,” she argued.

 

“Yes he is.  Your father was too indulgent when he bought you the creature.  He is not a horse fit for a lady,” her mother said, a stormy look on her face as she spoke.

 

“You know how dearly I love that horse,” she continued passionately.  He had been a gift from her father for her sixteenth birthday and she had ridden him nearly every day since.  He was a stallion, black as coal and smart as a whip.  In her humble opinion, there was no better horse.

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