Elizabeth gasped. “Do not tempt me. Your husband already claims I possess enough porcelain dogs to populate a village.”
“He is likely correct.”
“He is frequently correct,” Elizabeth muttered darkly. “It is terribly irritating.”
Charlotte laughed again, though her amusement faded the moment the parlor doors opened. Her heart leapt instinctively, foolishly hoping Victor had finally decided to stop avoiding her.
But instead of Victor, Lionel entered.
The disappointment struck her far harder than it ought to have.
Lionel removed his gloves as he stepped into the room, his easy smile immediately directed toward Elizabeth. “Good morning, ladies.”
“Lionel!” Elizabeth brightened at once. “Where have you been hiding yourself?”
“In Brighton, regrettably.” He bent to kiss her cheek affectionately before bowing politely toward Charlotte. “Your Grace.”
“My lord,” Charlotte greeted warmly.
Lionel dropped into the chair beside Elizabeth with the relaxed air of a man entirely comfortable in the house. Unlike Victor’s intense presence, Lionel carried an easier charm, lighter and more approachable. Yet Charlotte noticed now how alike the brothers truly were around the eyes and mouth.
“You missed a grand supper party last evening,” Elizabeth scolded. “The Duchess hosted cards and music.”
Lionel placed a hand dramatically over his chest. “Then I have suffered greatly indeed.”
“You should have seen Joan threatening Penelope with card violence,” Charlotte added with amusement.
Lionel grinned. “Ah, now I truly regret missing it.”
Elizabeth pointed at him firmly. “You must attend the next gathering.”
“I promise I shall,” Lionel replied. “Business simply demanded my attention this week.” He loosened his cravat slightly and sighed. “Brighton has become unbearably crowded with investors who believe themselves clever.”
“Most investors believe themselves clever,” Elizabeth remarked dryly.
“Most are not,” Lionel answered.
Charlotte watched them together quietly while sipping her tea. Lionel always seemed gentler with Elizabeth than Victor did, though perhaps that was because Victor carried the weight of responsibility upon his shoulders constantly. Still, there was undeniable affection here. Elizabeth looked positively delighted by Lionel’s presence.
And suddenly Charlotte found herself imagining another future entirely.
A future where she might sit just like Elizabeth one day, older and content while grandchildren filled the room with noise. A future where Victor stood nearby watching their grandchildren with reluctant fondness beneath all his grumbling restraint. A future where Mulford Manor felt permanently alive.
The longing that swept through her startled her deeply.
“Charlotte?” Lionel’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
She blinked. “Forgive me?”
“I asked whether your sisters are surviving their first season without causing scandal.” His eyes sparkled teasingly. “Though perhaps scandal is unavoidable for the Browns.”
Charlotte smiled faintly. “Joan nearly stepped upon a viscount’s foot during a quadrille.”
Lionel winced theatrically. “Fatal.”
“And Penelope informed a baron that his poetry sounded like dying livestock.”
Elizabeth burst into helpless laughter while Lionel leaned back, groaning. “Good God, I adore your family already.”
