“Your husband-to-be, obviously,” Augusta gave her a look that was almost offended by the question.
“Augusta,” Charity said, and she could hear the warning in her own voice, but it only made Augusta more pleased. “I…. please, do not be silly.”
“I am not being silly,” Augusta replied, and she spoke with more confidence now that she had seen Charity blush. “I’m asking a very simple question. I think I deserve credit for being observant.”
“You are enjoying this far too much.” Charity looked down at her plate again, entirely aware that she was blushing and entirely unable to stop it.
“I am enjoying it exactly the right amount,” Augusta said, and there was laughter in her voice now, though it was softer than it might have been a few days ago. “You have spent weeks speaking to me like I am a child and refusing to tell me anything, so yes, let me be pleased when I can figure out some things on my own.”
Before Charity could answer, Matilda leaned forward in her chair with the eager, open expression of a child who had no interest in subtlety.
“I think he is nice,” Matilda said, and she said it as if she were contributing something important. “He looks scary at first, and he talks like he is angry even when he is not, but he gave me his coat, and he walked us back, letting me hold his hand. I think that means he is nice.”
“You think he is nice,” Charity turned to look at her, startled enough that she forgot her embarrassment for a second. Eventhough Matilda was very young, Charity realized that her opinion mattered to her a great deal.
“Yes, I do,” Matilda nodded with certainty. “I believe he grows on you, once you can look past his grumpy self.”
“That is a very generous way of describing him,” Augusta snorted softly.
“Well, he was nice to us,” Matilda looked at Augusta and frowned.
Augusta hesitated, and Charity noticed the hesitation at once. Augusta usually had an answer ready, even when she was wrong. She fiddled with her spoon for a second, then said, with visible reluctance, “He was… decent.”
“I’m surprised you’re saying this,” Charity stared at her. Of all of them, Augusta was the hardest one to please.
“Oh, please, don’t look so shocked,” Augusta glanced up, caught the surprise on Charity’s face, and looked annoyed by it immediately. “I am still not saying I trust him completely, but he could have dragged us back and he… is perhaps not the monster that I thought that he was.”
“And he gave me his coat,” Matilda nodded quickly.
“So you both like him now,” Charity said, sitting back slightly, trying to make sense of the strange turn the conversation had taken. “After everything you said before?”
“I did not say I like him in the way you are making it sound,” Augusta said, defensively, “I said I think he was fair last night, which counts for something.”
That was as close to Augusta admitting that she liked someone as she would ever get. Charity knew that this was a huge confession.
“I like him,” Matilda lifted her hand, innocently.
Charity laughed before she could stop herself, and the sound surprised all three of them for a second. It was small and brief, but it changed the mood enough that Charity felt some of the tightness leave her chest.
Then the dining room door opened again, and all three of them looked up.
It was another servant.
More disappointment.The duke was not here, still. Charity looked away first, irritated with herself for still checking. She reached for her tea again, only to realize it had gone lukewarm.
“He still isn’t coming, is he?” Augusta said, and there was less teasing in her tone now and more curiosity. “Do you know where he is?”
“No,” Charity said.
“Did you have a fight?” Matilda looked between them.
Charity almost choked on her tea again.
“We did not…” Charity began, then stopped, since lying badly to an eight-year-old was pointless. “We spoke last night.”
“That sounds like yes,” Augusta leaned in. “Trouble in your marriage, already?”
“You have become far too bold in the last twelve hours,” Charity gave her a look of reproach.
