A reluctant smile touched his mouth. ‘Yes, your mother is... quite something. When I went to interview her, she seemed far more interested in matching me with you.’
Charlotte laughed softly. ‘Ah, Mama. She has always possessed a very strong will.’
‘Not as strong as yours, I think. Though the irony of ironies remains that I am engaged to you now...’
A strange peacefulness settled between them. Neither seemed willing to disturb it.
Then at length Lord Stanley rose.
‘I shall take my leave now. Sleep well.’
Charlotte felt a sudden stab of disappointment. For the first time in many years, she found herself reluctant for a conversation to end. She sighed as he softly closed her door.
Chapter 32
Early the next morning, Mrs Wilberforce had all but driven the gentlemen from the house so they should not interfere with preparations for the ball. They submitted with surprisingly good grace and departed for the hunt soon after breakfast.
Meanwhile, the household bustled with activity. Mrs Wilberforce directed the servants with military efficiency, whilst Holden, the butler, proved perfectly competent in his duties—despite, as Charlotte now knew, secretly being a Bow Street Runner.
Several of her gowns had at last arrived from the modiste, and this morning she wore one of the lady’s newest creations: a peach-coloured silk morning dress.
She was still unaccustomed to the attention she drew. Indeed, she could not help wondering whether, had she dressed with greater elegance during her debutante years, she might long ago have secured a husband and been spared a vastly different fate. Only now, seeing herself in flattering cuts and fashionable colours, did she fully comprehend how plain and dowdy she must once have appeared beside other young ladies of society.
As the ladies assembled in the morning room, Charlotte resumed her quiet investigations, disguising them beneath a veil of harmless conversation. She tried Mrs Payne first and quickly gave up after being rebuffed with polite civility.
Her gaze drifted towards Miss Pearson, who sat morosely beside the patio doors overlooking the lake, staring mournfully across the water. Despite everything, Miss Pearson offered Charlotte a small, gracious smile upon her entrance. Charlotte returned it, though shame prevented her from approaching further.
Miss Fraser, however, displayed no such civility.
‘Well,’ she remarked brightly, surveying Charlotte from head to toe, ‘your dress is certainly an improvement. Though it is rather unfortunate that you possess no notion whatsoever of how to accessorise. Your ensemble looks sadly incomplete.’
Though her tone dripped with sweetness, Charlotte detected the unmistakable sting of jealousy beneath it.
‘I do my best, Miss Fraser.’
Without encouraging further conversation, instead, Charlotte turned her full attention towards Miss Payne. She seated herself beside her with a cup of tea.
‘I understand your father recently purchased the neighbouring estate,’ Charlotte remarked lightly.
‘One of several,’ Miss Payne replied with obvious pride. ‘Though I believe he much prefers our coastal properties. He settled here chiefly because of his friends.’
‘I had no idea he was so well off. He must have inherited a great deal of it.’
‘Oh no,’ Miss Payne replied at once. ‘Papa says he is a self-made man. His investments in the cotton mills and other overseas ventures have flourished beyond expectation. I have no doubt he will receive a knighthood before long; he speaks of it often.’
She punctuated this declaration by scoffing down another scone.
Charlotte winced slightly at her poor etiquette.
‘I am sure,’ Charlotte said politely, passing her a napkin. ‘Does your father maintain many other investments?’
‘Oh, he owns half the docks in Liverpool. He showed them to me the other day, though there were so many I quite lost count.’
Charlotte’s brows shot up before she could prevent it. A slight exaggeration surely?
If Payne owned so many warehouses, then the Odd Fellows’ operation was vastly larger than she had imagined.
A tightness swelled in her chest.
