Spinster Ever After Page 6

  “But could you get him to stop the droning?” Charlotte pressed impishly.

  “Oh, yes,” her mother replied with a nod. “I told him I would enjoy what he said a great deal more if he said a bit less of it. We’ve been smitten ever since.” She winked and rose, rubbing her hands together. “Well, my dear, do enjoy plotting your romantic schemes with the Spinsters. I shan’t intervene, I dare say that is the last thing you need.”

  Charlotte smiled and took her mother’s hand as she passed. “Perhaps, but I know now who to come to if I need someone to shut up.”

  Her mother clicked her tongue and tapped Charlotte’s cheek. “Oh, you…” She swept from the room with rather the same air as she had entered.

  Charlotte only had a moment to breathe before it was announced that her friends had started to arrive, which was well enough, as her list truly was as pitiful as she had informed her mother. Not one of the Best Bachelors would do for her. Not a single one.

  What a perfectly discouraging thought.

  Feeling rather sour, Charlotte strode into their usual sitting room, smiling limply at Grace as she entered.

  “Good morning, Grace. Lovely shade, suits you nicely.”

  Grace nodded in greeting. “Thank you, dear. You look a little pale, are you quite well?”

  “That’s hardly a fair response,” Charlotte retorted. “I compliment you, and you nearly insult me? Rubbish.”

  Her friend rolled her eyes and flicked at her lavender sprigged skirts. “My concern over you outweighed my jealousy of your blue muslin, dear. Apologies for being a true friend. Now, are you well?”

  Charlotte managed a smile and sat in her nearest chair. “Well, yes, but I am a trifle disgruntled. Nothing that a good session with the Spinsters will not mend.”

  Grace’s high brow furrowed. “What good would the Spinsters do for you?”

  “Sensible conversation, for one, and a jolly good list of suitors for another.” Charlotte widened her eyes in exasperation.

  “Ah.” Grace sighed heavily and shook her head. “There we are. I wondered if you might have found yourself in a muddle with that.”

  “A muddle with what?” Georgie asked as she appeared in the doorway, Izzy behind her.

  Charlotte winced, hissing loudly. “Finding candidates for my matrimonial prospects. The list is quite depressing.”

  “Surely not,” Izzy protested in her kind way. “There are some lovely men about.”

  “Lovely men?” Charlotte repeated, indignation raging high. “Where was that opinion just a few years ago? Or has your darling husband influenced your tastes?”

  “I know mine has,” Elinor chimed in as she entered, smiling with some inner superiority. “Good day, all.”

  Charlotte groaned with all the necessary dramatics. “Ugh, I cannot bear another blissful bride when my prospects are so dismal. Will one of you please say something truthfully foul about your husband?”

  Georgie hummed quickly, then brightened. “Tony bites his fork when he eats. Not all the time, but enough that I feel a chill race up my spine that renders my appetite miniscule.”

  The other married women in the room shuddered together, and Charlotte frowned at them all as tea was brought in. “There is an air of understanding between the lot of you, and I feel quite left out.”

  Grace chuckled darkly, reaching forward to pour her tea. “Aubrey snores. Dreadful sound, I could barely sleep when we first wed.”

  Elinor settled into her seat, grinning to herself. “I am well aware of my husband’s faults, thank you. Or his previous ones, at any rate, and I must say it is a vastly amusing time to be married to a reformed man.”

  Charlotte scowled at her. “Elinor, I’ve only just got your husband down from his former perch as the devil’s representative on earth, I’m not at all prepared to give him a place with the angels in heaven.”

  “Oh, but he doesn’t belong up there, either,” Elinor insisted, still smirking in a secret way. “Else he would not deign to marry me.”

  “On that, we can certainly agree.” Charlotte gave her a playful sneer that made the others laugh. Then she turned her gaze to Izzy. “And you, Mrs. Morton? How does your husband irk you?”

  Izzy stared back at her, eyes wide, cheeks flushing. Then, after a moment, she smiled sheepishly. “Well…”

  When she didn’t go on, Charlotte threw up her hands. “Oh, for pity’s sake, you can’t find a single flaw, can you?”

  “He’s not perfect,” Izzy assured them hastily as laughter made the rounds again. “I don’t want any of you to believe he is, it’s just that…”

  “It’s just that nothing he does upsets you,” Charlotte finished, rolling her eyes. “You’re too good, Izzy, even for Sebastian, and I never thought I’d say that.”

  Izzy blushed prettily, and looked down at her lap, her fingers wringing together.

  Something about the action gave Charlotte pause, and she continued to watch her friend as though she could see into her mind and body with enough effort. Would she, too, have a pleasant announcement to make soon? With two of their group joining the ranks of motherhood, it could not be long before all the rest did so.

  All except Charlotte, of course.

  Grace sighed, still laughing, and looked at the door. “Is Kitty coming today? I thought she might, it has been a bit.”

  “She’s out with Alice Sterling,” Izzy told her, now setting about her own tea. “Alice is keen to become better friends, and I think it would be good for Kitty to have her. Better than being with us constantly, at any rate.”

  “Because spinsterdom is contagious; everyone knows that.” Charlotte made a face and turned her attention to Elinor. “Have you brought everything?”

  Elinor straightened up, clearing her throat. “I have, yes. More than that, I’ve spent the last week making the necessary adjustments. I have no doubt we’ll make quick work of this.” She pushed out of her chair and fetched a parcel from the hall. Pulling pages out of the parcel, she began to spread them out across the floor in some order she had previously arranged.

  “Oh my,” Charlotte murmured, turning towards her with some interest. “So finding my one and only love should be quick work, then?”

  Pausing, Elinor looked up at her in shock. “Erm… Charlotte, I don’t believe we will find the identity of your would-be husband in five minutes. This is not that.”

  Charlotte blinked at the girl, not comprehending. “What do you mean? Why else are we doing this?”

  “Oh, darling,” Georgie murmured softly. “It’s not as easy as that. You cannot will yourself to love anyone just for the sake of it. It’s not an emotion that can be commanded.”

  “I don’t see why not,” Charlotte protested, looking around at them all. “I can maintain control of my emotions in every other respect, why not this?”

  Grace frowned at her in exasperation. “Charlotte! This was never going to be simple, surely you had to know that.”

  “I did not,” Charlotte protested. “Why should I know that? It seemed fairly straightforward for all of you.”

  The married spinsters looked around at each other, expressions somewhat mirroring. “I think you will find, Charlotte,” Izzy said slowly, “that nothing, absolutely nothing, about any of our courtships was in any way straightforward.”

  No, that could not be right. Charlotte remembered the course of each and every one of them, having been present for a great portion of all of them. There were bumps and bruises, naturally, but it had always been perfectly clear that they belonged together. Why should it not be so easily arranged for her, simply because she got a head start by finding her match ahead of any actual courtship? Shouldn’t it be as obvious to her when the right man came along, now that she would be looking for him?

  But their expressions were so settled, so in agreement, that everything Charlotte thought she knew, everything she had planned for this excursion, was in question.

  “Then what are we doing?” she cried as she slumped back in
her chair. “What is the point of going through the entire scheme?”

  “Because I’ve spent years gathering this information for the exact purpose of guiding young ladies to look for their potential match in a more informed manner, and with candidates actually worth considering,” Elinor snapped, pressing her palms against the pages, her brow creasing with many lines.

  Charlotte stared at her, eyes beginning to ache with stretching so wide.

  Elinor lifted a daring brow. “And unless I am quite mistaken, that is precisely what we intend to do here. So kindly stop trying to dictate the entire process and allow our years of experience to actually do some matchmaking for you. We’ll create a grouping, and you can see which of the chaps you get on best with, all right?”

  Blinking, Charlotte exhaled roughly. “Well. I see no need for you to take on that tone with me, but if you must have your own way, so be it.” She lifted her hands in a show of surrender, feeling more bewildered than irritable.

  “Quite right,” Grace chimed in, rubbing her hands together. “Who have we got lined up, Elinor?”

  Elinor sighed as she finished with the papers, tilting her head in thought. “Well, our first option is Tyrone Demaris. Breeding, looks, five thousand a year, but no real holdings that I’m aware of. He’s very thick with Lord Radcliffe, though, so one must allow for that. He ranked one of the best bachelors, and anyone can buy a proper estate with the right fortune.” She looked up at Charlotte through narrowed eyes. “Do you want to be tied to the Sterlings, though? He is Lady Sterling’s cousin, after all.”

  Charlotte shook her head, blanching in distaste. “Not if I can help it. He’s charming enough, but I cannot imagine it.”

  “Tyrone and Charlotte,” Georgie mused before shaking her head. “If there was ever to be a war to end the world, it would be those two having a row. I will beg that we do not try for that match.”

  Elinor nodded, eyes wide, and looked at another sheet. “Julian Bruce? Ten thousand a year, on remainder for the earldom of Loukes, and nephew of Lady Fellows.”

  “Add him to the list,” Charlotte instructed, her mind conjuring up the image of the soft spoken, wildly handsome man she’d danced with twice in her life. He was difficult to catch for a word of conversation, let alone anything serious, but could certainly have been worthwhile. “My mother is friends with Lady Fellows, I could have her ensure he comes to events I’m due to attend.”

  Izzy sipped her tea, then put it down quickly. “I didn’t know that. Surely that should have been mentioned by now.”

  Charlotte looked at her friend with some surprise. “Why? Nobody cared a fig for Julian Bruce before, and he wasn’t much to look at when we came out, but now he’s grown into himself, I rather like the look of him.”

  “When you can look at him at all,” Grace muttered. “The man might as well be Father Christmas.”

  “I pray he is,” Charlotte shot back, “for then I would have found my perfect match indeed.”

  Elinor glanced up at her again. “Oh, are we going for Father Christmas, then? That changes everything…”

  Charlotte ignored her. This was not getting her anywhere, and a discussion of saintly virtues, or otherwise, would cause more points against Charlotte than as regards any particular gentleman. And if her friends were more inclined to mockery at the present, diversionary tactics might suit the task better.

  She quickly scrambled for a proper topic. “Has anyone heard from Prue lately? I wonder how she’s getting on in confinement.”

  Izzy raised her hand in the midst of another sip. “Yes,” she said when she was able, “I’ve a letter here from her.” She reached into the folds of her skirt and withdrew the folded paper, opening it quickly. “Let me see… She says she is feeling rather conspicuous, which makes being out of the public eye all the better for her. The doctor says everything is in fine form, and not to be too shocked if the child comes early. He has some concerns about Prue being small, whatever that means, but nothing too dreadful. Erm… Cam is in a right state, constantly fussing over her…”

  “Huzzah for his first sensible moment since marrying her,” Charlotte praised, looking heavenward. She winked, snickering at the idea of Camden Vale fussing over his expectant wife. It was a comical imagining, but she was quite pleased he was doing so. Prue deserved to be fussed over at a time like this.

  “Hmm…” Izzy read over the note, then smiled. “Ah. Prue is also quite pleased to hear that Charlotte wishes to be married, and she hopes that they will be through with her confinement and such in time to come and help.”

  “Help?” Charlotte repeated, sputtering wildly. “Rushing her convalescing and entry into motherhood to join my own personal melee? Surely not. I will write to Cam the moment we are done here. He may dote upon his wife, but in this, at least, he will agree with me.”

  Izzy’s eyes flicked up to Charlotte’s. “Cam has added a postscript of his own for you, Charlotte.”

  Charlotte paused in the act of bringing her teacup to her lips. “Has he? Why not write me himself? Oh, never mind, I know better than to question the reason behind any man’s lack of logic. Go on.”

  The others chuckled while Izzy resumed her reading. “Cam insists that Charlotte cannot settle on any man until he gives permission. He will be vastly put out otherwise.”

  Clapping her hands, Charlotte laughed. “Oh, bless him, I’ll agree to that. The man I choose must have the blessing of Camden Vale, or it’s not blessed.”

  “The idea of Cam being holy enough to bless anything and have it come to fruition…” Grace shook her head. “Heavens, I think I must pray.”

  Izzy folded the letter and took up her tea once more. “I cannot wait until Edith sends her thoughts to us. No doubt, Radcliffe will have her down here in a moment.”

  Charlotte sobered at once and shook her head firmly. “I hope not. I think we all underestimated the feelings of Society where her reputation was concerned.”

  Georgie tsked. “Oh, Charlotte…”

  “No, really,” she insisted. “It’s good she was swept off to Scotland and married to Radcliffe. Now she’s Lady Radcliffe, the fuss will eventually fade, but if you heard what I was hearing just after things…” She hissed, making a face. “Not everyone is as modern thinking as we lot, I can assure you.”

  “You consider us modern? Goodness.” Grace quirked her brows, wisely choosing to say nothing further.

  Charlotte wouldn’t let them in on what she’d overheard, and what she’d been told before the connection between her and Edith had been brought up to the speaker. Yes, they had spared Edith actual ruin, but she was still damaged in the eyes of so many, tainted by the whole affair. None of it would affect the Spinsters, not with the formidable ties they had among them, and with Lord Radcliffe being of a more reclusive nature, it likely would not affect him, either. But should the couple decide to spend much time in London socially in the near future, they would find quite a shock for themselves.

  “Speaking of modern,” she said suddenly, pulling herself from bleak thoughts, “shall we get on with my suitor selection? I’d like a decent number of candidates before we truly embark. Who do you have next, Elinor?”

  Chapter Six

  There is no way around the awkwardness of a first ball, whether it is the first one ever or the first one of the Season. All are awkward and uncomfortable. One might as well get used to it.

  -The Spinster Chronicles, 1 June 1818

  “I don’t know why I let you talk me into this.”

  “A pity, then, that I didn’t. You started this fracas; I merely provided the opportunity to begin. Stop crying about it and thank me. This is the simplest event you will have during this entire venture.”

  Michael glanced at Hugh with a grimace. “Is it? Why’s that?”

  Hugh raised a brow at him. “Because it is my brother’s house, the guest list is small, and no one here is desperate. Simple event, all things considered, yet it will be enough to get you at the top of the invitation li
st to a great many more things.”

  “You see my enthusiasm on display,” Michael muttered, gesturing to his face.

  Nodding, Hugh’s expression remained implacable. “I do see, and I do not care. This was your decision, and you chose me to help you. If you want to stop everything now, so be it, but remember…”

  “No,” Michael interrupted with a sigh, closing his eyes in resignation. “No, we go forward. I just so hate social occasions.”

  Hugh made no response to that, which was likely for the best, as there wasn’t anything to be done about it now. They were here, at this event, and everything was officially underway.

  In a manner of speaking.

  “The music has started, and the two of you stand here.”

  Michael plastered on a smile as their host, Hugh’s brother, Lord Sterling, strode over to them, tall and almost grandly arrayed, though without appearing a peacock in any way. “A body has to stand somewhere, don’t they?”

  Lord Sterling gave him a look. “You can explain that to my wife, Sandford, and see where that gets you. She’s the one who sent me over here.” He turned to his brother, his expression turning bemused. “And you, brother, have a wife. Why are you not attending to her?”

  “She’s already dancing,” he replied simply, gesturing to the dance floor. “Would you deprive Tyrone of dancing with the most beautiful woman in the room that he cannot have?”

  Lord Sterling snorted a laugh. “We’re not about to get into another argument about which of our wives is the fairest, Hugh, especially not in front of a guest. Deuced uncomfortable for him to agree with me, as host, when he is starting out a friendship with you.” He winced and looked at Michael with sympathy. “He’d probably drag you to the theater during one of the less popular shows, claiming it would be a beneficial excursion as revenge. I couldn’t bear to see you suffer so.”