Lady Susan raised an elegant brow but said nothing.
‘I find house parties rather exhausting affairs,’ Charlotte continued lightly as they set off after the others. ‘There are so many people to entertain and attend to.’
‘I suppose it must be daunting for someone unaccustomed to society,’ Lady Susan replied coolly. Her tone made it abundantly clear she wished Charlotte were elsewhere.
‘It must be a comfort to you, at least, knowing everyone so well,’ Charlotte pressed.
‘Or a burden,’ Lady Susan said, twisting the reins in her gloved hands. ‘Some acquaintances are hardly worth the trouble.’
They trotted out onto the country lane after the gentlemen riding ahead.
Charlotte glanced sideways at her.
‘Surely not all,’ she said delicately after a pause. ‘Lord Wolverton, for instance. He seemed rather taken with you.’
At once, something sharp flickered across Lady Susan’s face.
‘Miss Lucas,’ she said after a moment, her voice edged with bitterness, ‘permit me to offer you one piece of advice. Never trust too readily in the promises of men. One day they swear eternal devotion, and the next they vanish without explanation.’
Charlotte tilted her head, feigning wide-eyed innocence. ‘Surely you do not mean Lord Wolverton left you for another?’
‘What else am I to conclude?’ Lady Susan snapped. ‘He left no message, no explanation whatsoever. He simply disappeared. And directly after we—’
Her face turned scarlet.
Charlotte’s heart ached for her.
So their attachment had gone beyond flirtation.
And yet Lady Susan clearly knew nothing of the dreadful truth.
Charlotte found herself wondering whether the lady’s influence might have contributed to Wolverton’s growing unease with the Odd Fellows. Perhaps affection—or guilt—had finally awakened his conscience.
‘I am sorry,’ Charlotte said quietly. ‘Though I cannot imagine any gentleman with sense overlooking your worth for long. Half the assembly watches you whenever you enter a room.’
A faint smile touched Lady Susan’s lips.
‘You are a sweet girl,’ she said. ‘I hope Lord Stanley proves deserving of your affection. And does not grow cold once the ring is on your finger.’
With that, she cantered away.
Charlotte watched her go. There was no guilt in her expression, no sign of complicity—only disappointment and heartbreak.
Whatever Lady Susan knew of Wolverton, it did not extend to murder.
Up ahead, Charlotte glimpsed Lord Stanley riding with Mr Hamilton and Lord Boulton. The three gentlemen appeared deep in conversation, though from the stiffness of Lord Stanley’s posture, she suspected the exchange was less than cordial.
Then an idea struck her.
Lady Boulton, feeling too unwell and frail to ride, had opted to remain at the mansion.
Charlotte made a hasty decision. Now that the lady was temporarily free from her husband’s overbearing presence, it might prove the perfect opportunity to speak with her privately.
Falling back slightly, Charlotte guided her mare towards Mrs Wilberforce.
‘I fear I must return to the house,’ she said, pressing a hand lightly to her temple. ‘I have developed rather a headache.’
‘Yes, dear, head back, and when I return I shall send up one of my tinctures for you. They are remarkably restorative.’
