And leave the rest for later.
Chapter 12
Dinner at Ashford was a quieter affair than Charlotte had expected.
The table was long enough to seat a dozen, yet only three places were laid—all along one side.
Edward occupied the seat at the head, with Julian to his right and Charlotte to his left. The remaining stretch of polished wood lay empty, a gleaming expanse that seemed to emphasize how much space the household no longer used.
Candles burned low in their holders, casting warm light that did little to soften the room. Servants moved with accustomed efficiency, placing dishes and withdrawing again almost at once, as though the table itself discouraged lingering.
Julian sat across from Charlotte, his feet not quite reaching the floor.
He spoke little, pushing peas into careful rows with his fork, but when he did speak, it was to her alone—soft questions about the pudding, about whether frogs slept through winter, about whether tomorrow’s lessons might be held outside again.
Edward attempted conversation from time to time—brief inquiries about Julian’s studies, a remark about the weather—but each effort seemed to falter before it reached his son.
Julian answered politely enough, then let his gaze drift back to Charlotte, as if drawn by something steadier than habit.
Charlotte felt the imbalance at once.
“So,” Julian said suddenly, glancing up at her with a glint in his eye, “did Mrs. Channing tell you about the others?”
Charlotte smiled faintly. “The others?”
“The governesses,” he said. “Before you.”
Edward’s fork paused.
Charlotte kept her tone light. “She mentioned there had been a few.”
Julian grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Six.”
Edward cleared his throat. “Julian.”
“What?” Julian said innocently. “It’s true.”
Charlotte hid a smile behind her napkin. “And what happened to them?”
Julian leaned closer, lowering his voice as though sharing a confidence. “I scared them off.”
Edward’s gaze sharpened. “That is enough.”
But Charlotte didn’t rush to correct him. Instead, she tilted her head. “Did you?”
Julian nodded. “I put a frog in one’s bonnet. Another time, I hid under the desk and grabbed her ankle.”
Edward opened his mouth—no doubt to reprimand—but Charlotte spoke first.
“And did that feel kind?” she asked gently.
Julian hesitated.
“No,” he admitted after a moment. “But it was funny.”
“Sometimes those are not the same thing,” Charlotte said. “Did anyone get hurt?”
Julian shrugged. “One cried.”
