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Spring at Tribbley Hall

London, 1784

Grandmama made her stunning announcement at the breakfast table. Charlotte’s father had just finished the last sausage on his plate. Across from him, her mother and sister, Margery, were reviewing their long list of appointments for the day. Charlotte was nibbling on her toast, hoping she might have enough time before she finished it to conjure up a worthy excuse to stay at home rather than join them in yet another shopping expedition for Margery’s trousseau.

“I am going to the country,” Grandmama said. “Norfolk, to be precise. If you would be so good as to make a carriage available, Edward, I should like to leave tomorrow.”

The elderly lady would not have garnered a more stunned reaction had she told her family that she was visiting the moon.

Charlotte’s mother was the first to recover.

“To Norfolk?” She set her teacup in its saucer, the slight rattle of the china a fitting reflection of her obvious shock. “Tomorrow?”

“That’s right. And if she is willing, I should very much like Charlotte to accompany me.”

Charlotte’s heart leapt. Had she heard correctly? Not only had Grandmama formulated her own plan of escape from the prenuptial madness that currently surrounded them, she had engineered one for Charlotte also.

Her mother’s expression moved from stunned to aghast. “But we have Margery’s wedding in a month.”

“I am aware,” Grandmama said dryly.

Charlotte bit her lip to hide her smile. The entire house had been turned on its end in preparation for Margery’s upcoming marriage to Viscount Rothsey. Indeed, for the last few weeks, breakfast had been the solitary hour of calm before the whirlwind of daily premarital activities resumed.

“My good friend, Lady Cheston, has written to invite me to visit. Her home is located not more than five minutes from the coast. Given all the chimney smoke hanging over London these past few weeks, I believe the sea air will do me good.”

“I have no doubt you are right, Mother.” Charlotte’s father had taken one look at his wife’s face and had obviously determined that he had best enter the fray. “But there is the matter of Margery’s wedding.”

Grandmama released a frustrated breath. “I have no intention of missing my own granddaughter’s wedding, but I hardly think my presence is needed here before then. Nor Charlotte’s either, come to that. Constance already has things well in hand, and I would hazard a guess that Margery will fare perfectly well without her old grandmother’s and younger sister’s advice. Is that not so, Margery?”

Margery blinked, clearly unprepared for the question. She turned to Charlotte.

“Would you like to go, Lottie?”

Charlotte hesitated. She loved her sister, but an opportunity to be by the sea did not present itself often. Their family’s small country manor was in landlocked Leicestershire, and unlike most of their friends and acquaintances who divided their time evenly between the country and the city, her family rarely spent time away from London. Her father’s business demanded that he be in Town more often than not, and since her mother preferred the hustle and bustle of London over the slower pace of village life, she opted to stay with him.

“If Grandmama is sure that we will be back to see you marry your viscount, and you feel that you can manage without me until then,” she said, “I believe I would.”

Grandmama’s gratified smile was instant, and Margery gave her an understanding nod.

“I daresay choosing linens is not a terribly exciting endeavor when one will never see them again no matter which are chosen.”

Charlotte laughed. “You forget, Margery. I intend to visit you in your new home often, and I shall pay particular attention to the towels you have out.”

“As will everyone else,” their mother warned. “Such things say a great deal about the mistress of a house.”

“I believe that with your expert guidance, I shall not go awry, Mother,” Margery said.

“Well, be that as it may,” their mother said with a sniff, “Charlotte would learn a great deal by coming with us. It will surely not be long before she is choosing her own linens.”

Charlotte was all too aware of their mother’s desire to marry her two daughters off in quick succession, but as she had sighed with relief when every eligible gentleman who had come to call on her this Season left the house, she sincerely hoped that matrimony was not in her immediate future.

She met Margery’s eyes and saw humor shining there.

“When that day comes, I shall happily assist Charlotte,” Margery said. “I think she should be allowed to go with Grandmama.”

“But to leave tomorrow? How ever will you be ready in so short a time?”

“I received Daphne’s invitation only this morning,” Grandmama said. “She is anxious that we be there in time for a dinner party she has planned on Saturday, and as it will take us two full days to reach Tribbley Hall by carriage, we have little choice but to leave tomorrow.”