Authors: Sandra Sookoo
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Romance, #Regency, #Romantic Comedy, #Historical Fiction, #Historical Romance
“Perhaps, but it’s my life at the moment.
I’m three and thirty; I passed the mark of the old maid a long time ago. I’m nearly ancient and have been on the shelf for more years than I’d care to remember.” Just like it did every time she thought of her chances for a family, her heart trembled. Though she’d never felt a strong romantic affiliation for any man of her acquaintance, the possibility that they were merely desperate and would make a big show of ignoring her long in the tooth status grated. Not to mention she might be too old indeed to bear children.
Have I destroyed my future?
She didn’t know. Only time would tell, but i
f striking a love match was so sought after, why did it change the men caught within it? Charlotte knew what love and commitment did to the best of men. Her father had turned into a brow beaten, fat, docile fellow after years of marriage to her mother. Now that Felix had wed, she fully expected the same fate to befall him once the romance and the intimacy had worn away. Marriage made men complacent and content. It made them boring.
“If you wish to save someone, concentrate on Lauren. She’s still young enough.” Her younger sister would be a prime candidate for her mother’s machinations.
“Lauren isn’t your concern. As long as she’s in Kent, she’s still within my reach.”
“Perhaps.” But Lauren was a hoyden to be sure. She wouldn’t go to the Marriage Mart
without complaint. Absently, Charlotte folded undergarments. The thin lawns and silks slipped over her fingers like water.
I so adore pretty unmentionables.
Dainty embroidery decorated the shifts, drawers and night rails. Exquisite lace bedecked the garments as well, even a lovely wrapper done in pale pink satin.
“How vain you’ve become, my girl.” Roberta’s strident voice cut into Charlotte’s musings. “Why do you insist that
your underthings be so adorned? No one will see them.”
“
I
will know.” Charlotte smiled as she handed the stack to the maid for packing. “They make me feel confident, and that, my dear parent, is one trick I have that attracts the opposite sex.”
“Not that it does any good if you’re not going to accept a suit from any of them.”
Roberta tsked. “As long as you keep the men well away from having a glimpse until a proposal is given, I don’t care.”
“I’ve had proposals, Mother.”
“Yes, but they didn’t take, did they? Besides, you landed in quite a scrape with one of them. Nearly brought the constable with your screaming.”
“That was because the poor
man had a mouse tucked in his pocket. Said it was trained and would present a ring. How was I to know that?” Charlotte chuckled. “I beat Mr. Lawson with a newspaper until he told me the story.” She’d rather not go through that again. He had nothing else to recommend him past the mouse, and even then, it wasn’t adorable enough to suffer through for the remainder of her life.
“Well, perhaps in another year you’ll wish you had accepted. Those are few and far between now. You shouldn’t be so picky, Charlotte.”
“There hasn’t been one who captured my attention enough to even think about such a thing.” She desired a man who could hold his own in a relationship, not be cowed by his woman. To her way of thinking, a man should be mysterious, larger than life, a take charge sort of person who’d have a certain way about him that demanded attention and expected immediate results. To consider a man worthy of her time, he would need to be masculine enough he wouldn’t pander to receive her attentions. He’d win her affections by his will and personality alone, make her bow but not break from his moods.
Lord, I’ve been reading too many novels
. Men of today simply have no backbones or moral substance.
All the gentleman of her acquaintance wanted was to further their fortunes and fund their gaming. Modern men wished to take a wife in name only, produce an heir they’d barely spend time with and make merry with their mistresses on the side.
She moved to a bedside table, opened a drawer
, then removed a few books—one of which was a Gothic novel. A shiver raced down her spine at the thought of the broken, wounded, and brooding hero. The other two were racy French romances her mother and Felix said would rot her brain and give her skewed views of men in general.
“Do you anticipate much reading time while you’re away?” Her mother sent a pointed glance to the dog-eared novels.
“One never knows.”
“Those novels will rot your brain and give you a distorted view of men in your world.”
Right on cue. “Oh, Mother, please. I have a nice view of them already. I know the type of man I want, and he won’t do the pretty like some of the heroes in those books. He’ll refuse to be bullied or bossed, but will accept me because I do so.” Charlotte buried the books beneath the underthings in the trunk. “Besides, since most of the guests will be so much younger than me, I want to be prepared for every eventuality. I detest being bored and reading occupies my mind.”
“Won’t you be too busy with the
Marquess of Ravenhurst’s nephew? That is why you’re attending, correct?”
“Yes
. Jamie is the heir presumptive, and is celebrating his twenty-first birthday during the party. He’s trying his best to avoid match making mamas. Beyond that, I think he’s merely lonely.”
“And he’s invited you along because?” If there was one thing Roberta Darrington was good at, it was picking at an issue until a confession was forthcoming.
She kept on until she had answers. “Does he harbor a
tendre
for you? He’s more suited to your sister than you, though she’d still be his senior by eight years.”
Charlotte grinned, but turned away before her prying parent could question her further. “I’m willing to wager he most certainly does not.
He and I are merely friends.” Jamie Grantley, though he would inherit the title someday, was not interested in female bed partners. He wished the secret to remain private at all costs. How she’d stumbled upon it, she had no idea. Males of all ages simply enjoyed talking to her, perhaps because she wasn’t a threat of tricking them into parson’s mousetrap. “He’s asked me there as moral support, and perhaps as a blind to discourage fortune hunters.”
In the future, he’d need to learn how to avoid such pitfalls by himself
, though the sad fact remained, he’d have to marry a woman eventually, simply to silence gossip mongers and keep up appearances. His match would be for name and connections only.
I cannot be flitting off to hither and yon whenever he’s feeling threatened.
But, he was young yet with the world at his feet.
“I’m not sure how I feel about having you go to
the Ravenhurst country estate. The rumors surrounding him are vague at best, but they say he has a vile temper and is prone to yelling at everyone without provocation.”
“I shall mind my steps.” But the pull of the mystery sent little chills of excitement up her spine.
“Never fear, Mother. I shall be home in a week, and back in your clutches.”
A frown creased Roberta’s face.
“Please promise you’ll settle down soon. I want grandchildren.”
“
There’s more to life than marriage and offspring.” When her parent didn’t comment, Charlotte sighed. “I’m sure Felix is anxious to give them to you. He’s well enough enamored of his wife.” Really, it was scandalous how much her brother was devoted to Claire already.
“Yes, but that doesn’t remove your responsibility.
I want
many
grandchildren. When I’m old and at death’s door, I want to look around at a wealth of my children’s children and know I’ve succeeded.”
“In manipulating our lives.”
“If you wish to put it like that.” Roberta nodded and instructed the maid to include a ruby-hued riding habit.
Why can’t she remember I do not ride
?
Charlotte frowned. Just another thing she wasn’t skilled, or even interested, in. Lauren was the outdoor enthusiast. She was adept at riding, archery and generally running neck-or-nothing through the countryside.
“I can promise you this, Mother.” Charlotte held her mother’s hazel gaze. “When I return to London, I will make more of an effort to find someone I can tolerably get on with.”
“Well, it’s more than I had from you ten minutes ago.”
Two days later
, outside of Northampton, England
Charlotte patted Jamie’s arm yet again in attempt to calm him.
The chilly temperature combined with the snow showers invigorated her. There simply wasn’t such clear air in London like in the country. “I promise you’ll enjoy the tryst.” All around them the crunch of their boots in the layer of snow that had fallen days ago filled the air. Thousands of stars twinkled in the night sky overhead. Without the glow of the gaslights of Town, they appeared brilliant.
How lovely being away from the noise and pollution is, but I do so miss London.
“If you think to trap me, I must tell you I’d rather not put you in such a position.” When he would have disengaged her hand from his arm, she merely gripped him tighter.
She pressed the handle of a lantern into his free hand. “Silly boy. I’m well aware of your tastes, and have no fear. I do not fancy you. I only wish to help you find happiness.” She’d seen how the young man interacted with his guests upon arrival yesterday and had quickly confirmed how the wind blew concerning his preferences. “Once we’re in the evergreen maze, you’ll have enough privacy for a light dalliance if your heart desires it.”
“Wait. You know?” He drew her to a halt and pulled her around to face him. “How?”
“I suspected. I’ve heard rumors.” Charlotte smiled. His slim build and angular jaw proclaimed him still more of a youth than a man. He’d need to grow into his presumptive title. His saving grace for the moment, and the one thing—besides his coming inheritance—was his soft brown hair. He wore in a bit of a longish fashion with a lock falling romantically over one brow to highlight his handsome face. No doubt countless ladies on the Marriage Mart swooned over that lock, or more to the point, a few enamored gentlemen.
“Please don’t tell anyone. If my uncle were to find out—”
“Put your mind at ease.” She linked their arms once more. “I have no intention of telling your secret to anyone.”
“Truly?”
“Yes, of course. We’ve been friends for a few years now. Why wouldn’t I help?”
He shrugged. “Friendship—or even familial ties—don’t count for much in a matter such as mine.
My uncle will have my head. All he ever talks about is training me for his title.”
“Pish
posh, Jamie. That’s absurd. I want you to be happy, and if my involvement will help you out, it’s all for the best.” She tugged him into the evergreen maze. “I put a bug in your young man’s ear—”
“Sir Starkton.
He has a barony a few counties over. We met at Tattersalls last summer over the same bit of horseflesh.” His eyes twinkled.
Charlotte bit her bottom lip to hide her smile. Oh yes, he was young yet. So gushing and in love with love.
“Yes, Sir Starkton.” She stifled a laugh as they followed a path littered with the detritus of dead flowers and twigs from the growing season. “I let it slip you’d be here while the rest of the house party is involved in charades or other mindless business. No one will note your absence as long as you keep the dalliance to a reasonable length.”
“Why would you do this?” Wonder wove through Jamie’s voice.
“Helping matches along is a particular interest of mine. I may not have personal experience, but I have flawless judgment in other people’s affairs.” Another two turns in the maze then she drew to a halt. “This is as far as I’ll go. I wish you well in this endeavor.” Knowing there was no one around to witness their activities she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. “Enjoy.”
“Thank you.” He grinned and shrugged deeper into his greatcoat. “I appreciate your discretion.”
“And I appreciate you letting me in on a bit of your adventure.” Charlotte waved then retreated around the next couple of turns in the maze. She couldn’t contain her grin. Assisting him with his affair made her warm inside. Her chest bubbled with joy that Jamie would enjoy love—however brief—with his gentleman. So great were her imaginings that she didn’t watch her footing. Her whole body slammed into a hard wall. She gasped. The obstruction was not a wall at all. It was a man. A very solid, very angry man who smelled of apples and cedar.