Page 44 of Pride & Petticoats

Middleton nodded sagely.

Charlotte actually thought Lord Selbourne looked quite nice in black breeches, a black velvet waistcoat, and an ebony tailcoat of superfine. His basic cravat was stark white, and the simplicity was refreshing next to Middleton’s profusion of purple.

“At least I don’t look like a puffed-up peacock,” Selbourne retorted.

“Peacock! You wound me, sir! This color is referred to as Spanish blue. Peacock blue does not suit me a’tall.”

That earned a laugh from the onlookers.

“I suppose now that you have an audience, I’ll never escape without some remark concerning my cravat. Make it so that I may escort my wife inside.”

“Audience! Sir, I think it is you who enjoys an audience. Why, I half expect you to propose marriage to my new wife at any moment.”

Charlotte blushed, and there was more laughter. Lucia slapped Freddie playfully on the arm. “Be nice, Freddie.”

“Madam, I am always nice.”

“No, you’re not. You antagonize Alex, and then I have to smooth his ruffled feathers.”

“Ah, who is the peacock now, Selbourne?”

Charlotte didn’t hear Alex’s response because Lucia stepped in to save her. “Lady Dewhurst, what a pleasure to see you again. These boys may insult each other all night. We needn’t wait for them. Please, come with me inside. I’ll enjoy squiring you about and introducing you to all the bucks and beaux.”

Lady Brigham was immediately at Lucia’s side. “Mia figlia,” she whispered. “Do you think that is such a good idea? Lady Dewhurst is Scottish.”

“Oh, Mamma,” Lucia said walking away and pulling Charlotte with her. “Don’t be silly! Charlotte’s not Scottish. She’s an American!”

“Mamma mia!”

Lucia was as good as her word, and Charlotte was introduced to so many people that she was sure she’d never remember half of them. She was belatedly glad of Dewhurst’s lesson on titles, but she found she couldn’t remember who was a duke and who a viscount. Lucia helped her without being obvious, and Charlotte could have kissed her for being so kind.

“Kind?” Lucia said with a laugh later, when they had gone into dinner, and Charlotte tried to express her appreciation. “I am not being kind, Charlotte. I have ulterior motives.” Lucia whispered the last conspiratorially and gestured to Charlotte to take a seat beside her at the table. The dancing was just beginning and the crowds at the tables laden with rich offerings were thinning.

“I don’t believe a word you say. You’ve rescued me more than once this evening, Lucia, and I am certain smoothing over my social blunders is not how you wished to spend your evening.” Charlotte felt her cheeks heat, thinking about the plethora of mistakes she’d made in the last hour; often she was in the middle of a faux pas before even realizing it.

It was all so different from Charleston. She’d never faltered at social occasions during the Charleston Season, but now she understood why Freddie had scoffed at her comparisons. London was nothing like Charleston, and Charlotte had to admit that she was out of her league here in London. While her family did hold a prominent position in Charleston society, they had never been part of the upper echelons.

Charlotte straightened her shoulders and glanced in one of the long, rectangular mirrors lining the room. It amazed her that she still resembled the girl who’d danced at balls in Charleston. In five years she’d changed—become a different person—as different as her first ball gown from the one she wore now.

Light yellow satin with a V neck and full shoulder sleeves, the gown tapered to a hem embroidered with small white and yellow flowers. Below the exquisite hem peeked dainty white slippers adorned with silver rosettes. Lady Dewhurst had given Charlotte a small ivory fan decorated with white and yellow flowers that perfectly matched those of her dress and the small flowers peeking from the curls in Charlotte’s hair. The last touch was a strand of lustrous yellow pearls draped around her white neck. Charlotte felt uncomfortable without her mother’s emerald necklace, but Addy promised to keep it safe until Charlotte returned and could exchange the pearls for her most prized jewel.

“I knew this color would be perfect for you,” Dewhurst’s mother boasted. “You shall not see many ladies tonight in yellow. Their complexions would appear far too sallow, but with your coloring, it is perfect. And do not touch your hair!” she ordered, slapping Charlotte’s hand away. “That Hester is a genius.”

Charlotte had to admit the lazy maid was a talented hairdresser. She’d made a mental note to change the girl’s duties. Mrs. Pots wouldn’t like it, but Charlotte was gaining authority with the housekeeper, too. If only she could see the menu . . .

Charlotte took a deep breath. She must remember that all this finery was merely illusion. Underneath the silk and the lace, she was still Charlotte, the American wholesaler’s daughter. Soon she would find Cade and the pretty illusion would end.

“You have a very serious look on your face, Lady Dewhurst,” Lucia said, breaking Charlotte’s reverie. “I’m terribly sorry, but sober thought is not allowed at ton balls. We are all about folly and frivolity, so put your insipid smile back in place.”

Charlotte laughed. “Very well, then, but you have to promise not to report me to Freddie. If he finds out I’ve broken another rule, he’ll quiz me until my head explodes.”

“Agreed. On one condition. Tell me what had you looking so distraught.”

Charlotte glanced down at the fan, the tassel of which she was twisting around her fingers. “I was thinking of home, of my first ball, and my father and brother.”

Lucia put a warm hand on her arm. “Freddie tells me they died recently. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Charlotte nodded, unable to speak for a moment. Then she said, “Lady Selbourne, thank you for escorting me about tonight, but I am certain you must wish to return to your husband.”

---