For a man scarcely forty, he had amassed an astonishing fortune in remarkably few years.
How? Surely not through honest means alone.
Charlotte found herself increasingly convinced that he was the Falcon.
Lady Bainbridge soon joined them, settling into a nearby chair with her tea. She enquired after Charlotte’s ball gown.
‘Oh yes, hopefully it will arrive in time for the ball.’
‘I cannot wait to see you in it. That shimmering silver was most becoming upon you at the modiste.’
Charlotte was grateful for the change of company and found herself increasingly at ease as the morning wore on in Lady Bainbridge’s presence.
They spoke of her family, and Lady Bainbridge confessed she missed hers dearly, expressing a wish to visit them at Michaelmas. She spoke of her home and siblings with such feeling that Charlotte could not help but pity her situation. It was plain enough she had made a sacrifice for the sake of her impoverished family.
‘I wonder how you will find married life?’ Lady Bainbridge asked at length.
Charlotte replied carefully. ‘I worry about how my life may change once I marry.’ She attempted a vague tone, though it felt disingenuous knowing the truth would soon be revealed.
‘Oh, my dear,’ Lady Bainbridge said, placing a hand over hers, ‘I am sure you will be happy. Lord Stanley is so young and handsome—and quite in love with you. I should think it will not be at all like most marriages. As you can see, my own was one of convenience.’
‘That is precisely what troubles me,’ Charlotte said, lowering her gaze. ‘Lord Stanley can be rather severe at times.’ She hoped, at least, to temper Lady Bainbridge’s enthusiasm for what she clearly believed to be a fairytale match.
‘Oh, Miss Lucas, compared to Lord Bainbridge he is a delight.’
‘Are you very unhappy?’
She lifted an elegant shoulder. ‘I make do. He has said once I produce an heir,’ she added, placing a hand lightly against her stomach, ‘I am free to do as I please. And, my dear, I intend to.’
Charlotte feigned shock. ‘You have a secret beau?’
Lady Bainbridge leaned in and whispered behind her fan. ‘All I will say is that he is one of the house guests—and I am very happy.’ She positively glowed.
Charlotte gasped, recalling how tenderly Mr Hamilton had looked at her during the picnic. Could it be the feeling was mutual?
‘But would that not displease Lord Bainbridge, should he discover it before you produce an heir?’
‘Oh, Miss Lucas, you will find the ton operates on rather different rules once one is married. Much less restrictive.’ Again, behind her fan, she added, ‘What Lord Bainbridge does not know will not harm him. May I count on your secrecy?’
‘Of course. My lips are sealed.’
Charlotte was beginning to revise her opinion of Lady Bainbridge; perhaps she was not so innocent after all.
Then another troubling thought entered her mind. Did Mr Hamilton and Lady Bainbridge know one another before her marriage?
She might have pressed further, but Lord Bainbridge soon approached, cutting the conversation short. His wife withdrew at once, leaving Charlotte to endure his company.
He had not joined the hunt—he no longer rode due to his age—but he nevertheless offered lengthy opinions on the proper way to sit upon a stallion, particularly in relation to stirrup lengths and saddle construction, and did not hesitate to educate anyone within earshot.
After an arduous half hour of listening, Charlotte was immensely grateful when Mrs Wilberforce arrived in a flurry, looking distinctly harried.
‘Well, these preparations are driving me quite mad.’
Alongside the others, Charlotte promptly offered her assistance, which was gratefully received, and the ladies soon divided the work amongst themselves. Charlotte took care to partner with Miss Payne and volunteered to oversee the flower arrangements, spending the remainder of the morning—and much of the afternoon—moving through the mansion with her to complete them.
As they worked, Charlotte gently plied her with questions about her childhood and family, and by the third hour Miss Payne had begun volunteering information quite freely. Charlotte found herself feeling faintly sorry for the girl. Beneath the boastfulness lay someone rather sheltered and painfully lonely. She even felt a brief pang of guilt at extracting information from her.
But the feeling was short-lived.
