A brief silence followed. Then came a clipped reply.
‘If she has no objection, then neither do I.’
Lord Stanley did not look at her, though she noted his displeasure at once.
Mrs Wilberforce, meanwhile, beamed. ‘Excellent. At least I need not reorder the seating arrangements again.’
Charlotte bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.
The spinsters were terrifyingly efficient.
‘What say you, Miss Lucas?’ Wolverton asked.
Charlotte agreed. After all, she had wanted the opportunity to converse with him—and now she had one.
That evening, Charlotte dressed with rather more care than usual, a fact remarked upon by more than one gentleman as she entered the drawing room.
Wolverton, however, much to her unease, devoured her with his gaze before offering his arm to escort her into dinner.
‘You look positively radiant,’ he whispered near her ear as he pulled out her chair. His breath against her nape made the hairs rise along her neck. But there was little he could do in a room full of people. She offered him a restrained smile and sat down.
Charlotte’s mind promptly went blank. She had intended to draw him out—to question him—but his unsettling presence drove every conversational topic from her head. Still, she noticed one useful thing: he looked far more agitated than usual.
‘It must be pleasant to have remained friends with Lord Stanley for so long—Oxford, was it?’ she asked as she sipped her soup.
‘I went to Cambridge, not Oxford. But no, we met at Eton. It has been pleasant... rekindling our friendship. I had forgotten how enjoyable his company could be.’ He drifted momentarily into reminiscence.
Cambridge? Hamilton said Oxford.
‘I suppose you have kept other university friends as well—Mr Hamilton, for instance?’
‘Hamilton? I believe Frederick—Lord Bainbridge’s son—introduced us. I cannot recall where... perhaps at one of these house parties.’ He hesitated slightly.
Charlotte found it suspicious that neither Wolverton nor Hamilton could properly decide where they had met. Why conceal something so ordinary—unless the truth was rather less respectable?
‘I was curious—how do you know the other guests here?’ she pressed.
‘We live close by—neighbouring estates. One is forever running into one’s neighbours.’
This much Charlotte knew already, and it told her very little.
‘I suppose some are related as well,’ she replied, recalling her earlier conversation with Mr Hamilton.
‘Yes, naturally. Oswald married Boulton’s sister. And some have business dealings together. Payne and Boulton invest together rather frequently.’
Charlotte glanced towards the portly Mr Payne, who was busily swallowing wine.
‘I am surprised by Oswald’s and Boulton’s connection,’ she said. ‘They hardly acknowledge one another.’
‘Some family dispute, I imagine. They tolerate one another for Lady Oswald’s sake.’
‘How very civilised,’ Charlotte murmured.
She turned back towards him with studied innocence. ‘And what investments occupy Mr Payne and Lord Boulton? I confess, I find the world of finance rather fascinating.’
Wolverton raised a sceptical brow.
She had overplayed it.
