Arabella pressed a hand dramatically to her chest. “How tragic,” she said. “To be relentlessly adored in a grand country estate.”
Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “You are impossible.”
“And yet not incorrect,” Arabella replied.
Margaret smiled timidly. “Was the duke terribly uncomfortable about it?” she asked.
Charlotte opened her mouth, only to pause briefly as Victor’s face flashed unhelpfully through her mind: that maddeningly calm expression, those knowing smirks, the infuriating amusement in his eyes whenever she lost patience with him. She straightened at once, annoyed with herself for even recalling it.
“He appeared far too entertained by the entire matter,” she said briskly.
Arabella’s grin widened instantly. “Ah,” she said knowingly. “There it is.”
“There, what is?” Charlotte asked suspiciously.
“That look,” Arabella replied. “The one you make whenever you mention him.”
Charlotte stared at her in disbelief. “I have no look.”
“You absolutely do,” Arabella assured her.
Margaret shifted slightly in her seat, her expression thoughtful. “Do you think,” she began hesitantly, “that perhaps the duke himself was part of the reason you left?”
I cannot tell them that I saw him in such a compromised state with a woman. It would be scandalous to share such a thing.
Charlotte blinked. “Certainly not.”
Margaret flushed faintly but continued. “Only… he is very handsome.”
Arabella laughed immediately. “Margaret!”
“What?” Margaret asked, startled. “Everyone says so.”
Charlotte set her teacup down rather more firmly than necessary. “Even if he were the last man on earth,” she declared, “I would never be interested in the Duke of Mulford in that manner.”
Arabella raised a brow. “What a passionate declaration.”
“It is merely accurate,” Charlotte replied sharply.
But even as she spoke, unease twisted painfully in her stomach.
Because no matter how strongly she denied it, the truth remained that she had acted recklessly.
I've abandoned the only respectable position I'd managed to secure all because of my anger and embarrassment. What sort of eldest daughter behaved so selfishly?
Her sisters remained dependent upon her. Joan still needed opportunities to marry, Irene required another season, and Penelope would likely set something ablaze if left unattended too long. Charlotte had spent years sacrificing her own wishes without hesitation, and yet the one moment she allowed herself pride and outrage over practicality, she destroyed everything.
“How disgraceful,” she thought miserably.
“You are frowning at the biscuits,” Arabella observed. “It is rather alarming.”
Charlotte blinked, forcing herself back into the conversation. “Forgive me,” she said faintly.
Margaret tilted her head gently. “You are worried about your family,” she said quietly.
Charlotte managed a weak smile. “Naturally.”
Arabella reached over and patted her hand. “You cannot possibly believe this was your only chance,” she said. “You are capable enough to find another position.”
