Elizabeth regarded her with a warm, knowing smile.
“Of course you are,” she said kindly. “And what a sweet thing you are to pretend otherwise.”
Charlotte blinked, then attempted to clarify.
“I am not, in fact, the duke’s betrothed,” she said carefully. “There has been a misunderstanding.”
Elizabeth patted her hand. “Such modesty,” she said fondly. “It is quite refreshing.”
Charlotte resisted the urge to sigh, reminding herself firmly that patience would be required. “Very well,” she murmured under her breath, “one thing at a time.”
The afternoon passed more pleasantly than she had anticipated, despite the recurring confusion. Elizabeth proved to be both charming and gentle, her moments of disorientation softened by a genuine warmth that Charlotte found immediately endearing. They took tea together, and though the conversation wandered unpredictably, it never lost its kindness.
“You must tell me about your family,” Elizabeth said, her eyes bright with interest. Charlotte smiled faintly.
“I have three younger sisters,” she said. “And I have come here in hopes of supporting them.”
Elizabeth’s expression softened.
“How devoted you are,” she said warmly. “It is a rare and lovely thing to care so deeply for one’s family.”
Charlotte felt a surprising sting behind her eyes at the sincerity of the praise.
“You are very kind,” she said quietly. “Though I fear I do only what is necessary.”
“Necessary or not,” Elizabeth replied, “it speaks well of your heart.”
Charlotte found herself smiling more easily after that, though the conversation soon returned, persistently, to the same subject.
“And how long have you and Victor been courting?” Elizabeth asked with interest.
“We have not been courting,” Charlotte replied, as gently as she could. “I am not his betrothed.”
“Of course,” Elizabeth said, nodding. “And when is the wedding?”
Charlotte blinked. “There is no wedding,” she said, though she could not help a faint laugh.
Later, Elizabeth gazed longingly toward the window. “I should like to go outside on such a fine day.”
Charlotte rose.“Would you care for some air?” she asked.
Elizabeth brightened at once. “Oh, I should like that very much,” she said.
Charlotte hesitated only briefly before guiding her toward the door, resolving to remain close and attentive. As they made their way through the manor, she could not help but feel a quiet satisfaction at bringing the older woman such simple joy.
They had scarcely stepped outside when Charlotte noticed two figures nearby, their voices low but tense. The duke stood facing another man, tall, composed, and bearing a striking resemblance to him, though his manner was far more restrained.
The tension between them was unmistakable, yet it vanished the moment they noticed the ladies’ approach.
Elizabeth beamed. “Lionel!” she exclaimed. “Come and meet Victor’s betrothed.”
Charlotte froze. The gentleman’s brow lifted slightly, though his expression remained composed. “Is that so?” he said, his tone faintly amused.
Before she could protest, Victor stepped closer, his hand settling lightly at the small of her back.
“Indeed,” he said smoothly. “Miss Brown is my future bride.”
Charlotte stiffened instantly, her entire body rebelling at the casual intimacy. She stepped away at once, her expression sharpening. “I am not,” she said firmly. “And I should be most obliged if that misunderstanding were not encouraged.”
