“Itisa very good idea, is it not?”
“Selina is just turned sixteen and has not had her first season. She is a foolish girl just barely out of the schoolroom. Still, she is lively company, so, we might invite Selina to dinner when Mr. Morton returns. He will be much in demand, as you say.” Miles turned to his sister. “What do you say, Charlotte? Would Selina make a good match for Mr. Morton in time?”
“I am certain I can have no opinion on what sort of young lady he would care for, Miles,” Charlotte said quietly. She felt a dull ache in her chest. Selina and Frederick? Well, why not? Likely Lavinia was right. Such an amiable gentleman with a secure living would not stay single for long. But why should she care or have any hopes? He made his feelings toward her quite clear—he was her friend and nothing more.
“I am certain hewillprove popular,” Evan said evenly. “But, he appears to me to be a man of sound judgment. He would not make a hasty match solely for the sake of marrying, do not you agree, Charlotte? He is the sort of man who would want to know his own mind before choosing a bride.”
“I suppose, Papa. We shall have to wait and see.” Charlotte stopped in the entry hall and made an apologetic smile. “Well, I have taken too long to reply to Dorothea’s letter. She is eager to have me back at Haverstone, and I have yet to let her know of my plans. Pray, excuse me.” She hurried up the stairs, the ache in her chest growing stronger, though she was unable to fully comprehend her feelings.
*
A week passedwith little but the usual activities in the Kendall household. Lavinia was overseeing changes to the nursery, although she would not give birth until after the new year. Charlotte still missed her old bedroom but told herself it did not signify. She would likely soon be engaged to either of the two men Dorothea had chosen and would no longer claim Clayton House as her home.
Charlotte was finishing up the packing for her return to Haverstone when there was a knock at her bedroom door. Expecting it to be the under housemaid bringing up a few items she had asked to be washed in anticipation of her departure, she was surprised to see Lavinia enter. Her sister was holding a large, flat package, wrapped inbrown paper and string.
“This was just delivered to the house for you, Charlotte,” she said. “I confess, I was so curious, I brought it up myself. It is rather heavy—did you order more books? I keep warning you not to ruin your eyes with excessive reading.”
“No, I did not order any books,” Charlotte said, taking the package. “In fact, I am not expecting anything. What could it be?” She took it over to her desk and cut the string with her pen knife while Lavinia hovered over her shoulder. Opening the paper, they could see it was the back of something framed. Charlotte lifted it, turned it over, and neither she nor Lavinia could keep from gasping at what they saw—within the frame was a watercolor portrait of Charlotte.
“My word, Sister, it is so very beautiful,” Lavinia exclaimed. “Did you have this commissioned for your father? It is quite a good likeness. Who did it?”
“I…I have no idea, Lavinia,” Charlotte stammered, still staring at the image. “This is a complete surprise to me, I assure you.”
Lavinia pointed to the lower right corner. “Is that a signature?”
They both bent closer to see and said in unison, “Frederick Morton.”
Charlotte suddenly felt as though she needed to sit down before her knees gave way. She tried to regain her composure while Lavinia held the piece up, examining it more closely.
“My goodness. I was unaware our future rector was even an artist. He’s quite talented.” She placed it on the top of the desk and leaned it against the wall, stepping back to consider it from a few steps back.
“Yes…” Charlotte said faintly. “Mr. Morton gave me a few art lessons while I was at Haverstone this summer.”
“Is that when you posed for this?”
Charlotte recalled the pencil sketch Mr. Morton had taken of her that day up at the Greek temple. But, that drawing had rendered her in profile, and this was a three-quarters angle as well as a finishedwatercolor that had captured her hair color and complexion perfectly. She leaned closer and smiled. Yes, he even put in her freckles.
“No,” she finally answered. “He appears to have painted it from memory. But, why should he do such a thing, and why should he send it to me now?”
Lavinia placed her hands on her hips and stared at her sister as though she had suddenly sprouted wings.
“My word, Charlotte—are you quite unaware of the significance of this gift?” Getting a blank stare in return, she threw her arms up and said, “Helovesyou, you silly goose.”
Charlotte shook her head violently. “No, Lavinia, that cannot be. This is naught but…a thank you gift for all my work to help him with the renovations of the parsonage.” She gave a small laugh. “Love me? He has never shown any partiality that would lead me to think he has strong affection toward me. No, you must be mistaken.”
“Oh, I could just shake you!” Lavinia cried. “I may be an old married woman but believe me, I am not so long from the altar that I do not perceive the very deliberate meaning in this gift. He loves you, it isquiteclear. Can you not recollect any way in which he has demonstrated his admiration for you?”
Charlotte thought a moment. “Well,” she finally answered, “he is always so kind, of course. And, he did seem to often press me to tell him of my particular tastes as we chose new furnishings and wall papers for the parsonage. Does that signify anything?”
“Him wanting to know thatyouwould be happy with his choices? I should say it does. He clearly hopes you will soon live with him in the rectory house.” She fanned herself with her hands. “Oh, my word, how exciting. But, tell me, Sister—doyoucare forhim?”
“I believe I could,” Charlotte answered hesitantly. “That is, he is so amiable and pleasant to be with. We speak easily, and we have many things in common. I do not know. Is that what love is?”
Lavinia pulled another chair up and sat knee-to-knee withCharlotte. “I know you likely think I married your brother just for the estate. But, I truly love Miles. Even now, after almost five years, my heart still skips a beat when he enters the room, and his company is always agreeable to me. I cannot imagine my life without him, which is why I have been so peevish and sullen at times over not being able to give him what I know he wants above all things—a child.” She placed a hand over her lower stomach and smiled. “But now that I am expecting, I feel all my dreams have come true. And, Charlotte, I sincerely would wish the same for you. And, indeed, the more I think on Mr. Morton I cannot imagine anyone better suited for you. Consider very hard about whether or not you would accept him, because, believe me, this painting is as close to a marriage proposal as I have ever seen. So, I ask again—do you think you could love him?”
Charlotte gave a little laugh, which turned into a gulping sob. She put a hand over her mouth and nodded, then choked out, “Idolove him. I thought he did not care for me in that way, so I convinced myself that I had no affection for him, but I have.” Tears streamed down her smiling face. “Oh, Lavinia, I am exceedingly in love with Mr. Morton. What shall I do?”
“I’ll tell you what you must do. You must write to Dorothea at once and tell her you are going to delay your trip to Haverstone—some two or three weeks. By then, Mr. Morton will be back in Doddington and you may thank him in person for his gift. If you are even the least bit encouraging toward him, I am absolutely certain he will make you an offer.” She pointed a finger at Charlotte. “And, you will accept.”
