She hadn't asked for it. Hadn't spoken a word. And yet, there it was — as if someone in the house still believed she cared.
Or perhaps someone wanted to make certain she saw it.
Curiosity nudged her fingers forward. She unfolded the paper slowly, her eyes immediately seeking out the familiar column — that ever-merciless section of society gossip — and froze.
Among the glittering engagements announced as the crowning achievements of the Season, four names stood out.
Two separate announcements.
Both impossible.
Both life-altering.
First, one name.
Then another.
And then, side by side — glowing, triumphant:
"Lady Abigail Browning has accepted the hand of His Grace, Lord Jasper Finch, Duke of Winterset..."
Charlotte blinked.
"...Lord Philip Browning, future Duke of Everly, is newly engaged to Lady Sophia
Marlowe, daughter of the Earl of Blackwell..."
The rest of the room slipped away.
Her tea sat cold.
Her toast, forgotten.
Here she was, cloistered in silence, while the world outside celebrated a season she had lost.
She read the names again, her gaze narrowing.
Lady Sophia Marlowe.
Next to Philip's.
Let her enjoy it.
For now.
Because it wouldn't last.
Charlotte leaned back against her pillows, the paper still in her lap, the morning light catching the cruel curve of her smile. Philip would be hers — not because of fate or romance or some silly notion of love, but because she had decided it would be so.
Whatever feelings he thought he held for Sophia, they would fade.
They always did.
People changed their minds — especially men.
And if her pursuit complicated things for Abigail and Jasper, well... that was unfortunate. But not her concern. Not if it meant claiming the future she had always envisioned.
Charlotte turned the names over again in her mind, her thoughts already shifting to what must come next.
