***
“INEVER THOUGHT I’Dbe so happy to return to work,” Beatrice told Charlotte the following morning as she cleaned the glass display cases. “Have you ever tried the mazurka?”
“Sadly, no,” Charlotte said, her head resting on one hand as she leaned upon the counter.
“Well, it’s difficult. I trod on Mr. Carson’s toes, he stood on mine. I slipped once. I even backhanded him in the chin. And one time, he turned one way while I turned the other and he wrenched my wrist.”
Charlotte sighed without sympathy. “At least you were in the arms of a handsome man and have many more dances to look forward to.”
She could not deny Mr. Carson was handsome. He was also funny and witty, to boot. Moreover, she thoroughly enjoyed his company, so very glad she hadn’t scared him off that first day when he’d wanted boiled sweets.
It had been easy to get swept up in the excitement of what was ahead of her, something she’d never thought she wanted until it was laid at her feet.But Charlotte!Beatrice looked at her. Of the three of them, her youngest sister was the only one who had really wanted a Season, and not to find a man but for the pageantry of it.How much more fun it would be with Charlotte at her side!
“Let’s ask Mother if you can join us and partake of this wretched experience.”
Charlotte sighed again. “People will think we’ve been hiding ourselves in order to spring double beauty upon the unsuspecting world.”
Beatrice blinked. “Dear sister, I don’t know what to say to that, but I don’t think we have to follow the rules of those presented at court, who then make a grand debut or have a coming-out party at home and all that. We are slippingin media res,as it were, pretending as if we already are in society and our wonderful duchess of a sister is simply letting people know.”
“But the gowns and the tickets,” Charlotte protested, even as her smile returned.
“Pish,” Beatrice said, hoping she wasn’t setting her sister up with false hope.
“Easy for you to say when you have Mr. Carson with his dash-fire and deep pockets, ready to outfit you and escort you.”
Dash-fire?First remarking on his handsomeness and now this.Was Charlotte beginning atendrefor the American?If such was the case, Beatrice would nip it soundly in the bud since he was entirely off limits.
“Mr. Carson, as an escort, might as well be an old woman or a donkey.”
“What?” Charlotte said with a laugh as the shop door opened. “Poor Mr. Carson.”
“Poor Mr. Carson why?” asked Felicity Rare-Foure. “What has Beatrice done to him now?”
“Nothing, Mother. I was explaining how he is merely an escort and might as well be a donkey since I cannot have designs upon him for all his handsome face and thick hair.”
Her mother looked at her sister, then back at her. “Doyou have designs on him, dear girl?”
Beatrice threw her hands in the air. “Does anyone listen to me?”
Naturally she had noticed his unusually captivating eyes, his well-proportioned physique, and his sensual mouth. Ofcourseshe’d enjoyed being held by him in Amity’s ballroom, but that was beside the point. He needed a titled lady, and there was no getting around it.
“Mother, you must let Charlotte have a Season. This Season! With me! Please say yes.”
“Yes,” said Felicity.
“Mother! That’s not fair. Why shouldn’t she? You saved oodles of money by Amity and I refusing our Seasons. And now Mr. Carson—” She stopped herself when Charlotte clapped her hands with glee.
“She saidyes,” Charlotte told her.
“Oh, you did, didn’t you?” Beatrice said. “We must go back to the same modiste this very afternoon and get her started on gowns for Charlotte. She can’t possibly wear any of my dresses without getting them all taken up, nor Amity’s without getting the bodice loosened.” Their youngest sister was the most well-endowed, and the most apt to capture attention in that area.
Charlotte let loose a loud whistle of happiness as her enthusiasm spilled over. Then she took a breath and said, “On my dresses, I would like lots of ribbons and lace and ruffles and bows and—”
“The garniture will be suitable, Charlotte,” their mother said. “However, I order you not to make that sound again, or I shall change my mind.”
“Yes, Mother.” But Beatrice could tell her sister wasn’t going to stop smiling for the rest of the day.
“You must come to the next dance practice at Amity’s tomorrow.”
