Page 61 of A Lady's Wager
“You will forgive me, my lord,” Julian answered, “I have also known several, yet I assure you I offered the description of myself with sincerity and honesty. Though one is inevitablyinfluenced by the family and home one was raised in, each generation need not be an exact duplicate of the last.”
The earl didn’t seem to entirely appreciate the correction. He watched Julian with a silent air of disapproval, one that sent him back to his days in the nursery when his grandfather and father would take it in turns to scold and belittle him. He could feel that little boy he’d once been, shrinking and cowering and tucking himself away. But he was not a child any longer. The family that had so tormented him was gone. Many people had declared it a tragedy that he had lost everyone he was related to. For Julian it had been, to a large degree, a relief. He’d finally had some peace, and he’d been granted the opportunity to determine who he meant to be without constantly fighting the people his family had been.
Julian kept his posture and held his head aloft without tipping it at an arrogant angle. “I don’t claim to be perfect, but neither will I allow myself to be painted with a brush that does not suit me.” He turned to Lady Charlotte and dipped a gracious bow. “It has, as always, been a great pleasure to see you again.”
“Does this mean you are leaving?” That she sounded disappointed at the possibility did his heart more good than she could have imagined, and far more than it ought.
“I suspect, my lady, my absence will be met with approval in this particular corner of the ballroom, and it is merely this area I mean to quit.” He refrained from looking at her father, not wishing to further antagonize him. “I do hope you will allow those in attendance the pleasure of seeing you dance once more. Should my path cross yours again before the night is through, I would consider myself quite fortunate to be the recipient of another of your smiles.”
A tiny bit of color touched her cheeks, visible beneath the powder most ladies and many gentlemen wore on their faces. “I’m pleased you don’t mean to leave entirely.”
Not knowing quite how to respond and feeling the glare of the earl burning a hole in his temple, Julian simply dipped his head and stepped away.
Fool, he castigated himself.Distracting would-be suitors to buy yourself time to obtain a bit of money you desperately need is one thing. Finding yourself developing a tendre for the lady is another entirely.
A fool indeed.
CHARLOTTE’S FATHER HAD BEEN UNWELLfor a few days, and thus she had not attended many gatherings. Fortunately, he was feeling well again in time for their at-home day. She felt certain both Mr. Vernon and Mr. Travers would be present, along with a great many others. Though she didn’t like to think of herself as vain, she realized she had made a great many friends. Her standing, as well as her father’s, had made her sought-after amongst those who wished to improve their own standing.
During her first Season, that had bothered her. She’d felt a bit dismissed and more than a bit overlooked. But having now completed several Seasons, she understood a little better the necessary dance they all undertook. Even those who would not naturally view people in the context of their rank, nor use them to improve their own standing, often had very little choice. So much about a person’s future, especially when that person was a woman, depended on making the right connections at the right time with the right people. What she had originally seen as hurtful and mercenary she now understood for the act of survival that it actually was.
She didn’t begrudge people those things that they needed to do in order to stay afloat. And she valued those whom she had a more personal connection with that much more, those with whom she had a truer friendship.
Louisa was one such person. She had visited whilst Father was unwell, offering Charlotte some much needed company and reassurance. He’d not been so unwell that Charlotte had actually been concerned about his survival. But her mother had died when she was quite young. She had a sister who had not lived past childhood. Her grandfather had passed away, as had one of her aunts and her only uncle. When her father was ill, she fretted a little.
Louisa was present again for the at-home, this time with her fiancé. The more Charlotte knew of Mr. Granville, the more she liked him and the happier she was for her friend. Arranged marriages did not always turn out well, but Charlotte had every reason to believe this one would. Indeed, watching them together, she could see they were genuinely pleased to be in each other’s company.
When the match had first been arranged, there had been a great deal of discomfort between the two. Now the best way to describe their interactions was “sweet.” There was a tender kindness between them that Charlotte had to admit she was a little envious of.
All of this flitted through her thoughts while she was seeing to her duties as hostess. Her father interacted easily with guests of all generations. Charlotte had heard that her grandmother and grandfather had been the same way, despite the fact that her grandmother no longer interacted with Society. Her aunt, Charlotte had been told, lacked that polish, and she now fully eschewed the social whirl. Charlotte suspected she fell somewhere between the two extremes. She got along well with people and enjoyed friendly interactions, but she also cherishedquiet time to herself. She needed to find a means of deciding which of the gentlemen she was encouraging her father to take notice of was most likely to appreciate those contradictory needs in her.
Mr. Vernon and Mr. Travers arrived at the at-home at almost the exact same time. They eyed each other with misgiving, a good indication that they realized they were positioned to be rivals. Some ladies would have been flattered by that. For her part, Charlotte mostly felt tired. She had begun to recognize the exhaustion for what it was: a small but unshakable feeling of helplessness. She was trying so hard to influence the direction her life would take once her father set his mind to it, but there was really so little she could do.
Still, she reminded herself, Mr. Vernon and Mr. Travers weren’t terrible options when compared to some of the others who had shown interest in her or who would, she would wager, jump at the opportunity to connect themselves with her family.
The two gentlemen offered their greetings and were invited to sit. Charlotte watched Father for his reaction. He seemed pleased to see them, which was a good sign. He also didn’t seem to have a preference for one over the other.
Didshe?
She’d been so busy making certain her father didn’t set his sights on someone entirely objectionable that she’d not stopped to think whether she ought to be encouraging one over the other. Perhaps it would behoove her to focus her efforts. But that would require deciding where she wished to focus them, which was a significant part of her difficulty. They were unobjectionable and would likely not be unkind to her. But she had no tenderness for either of them, no preference.
“Lady Charlotte, you were missed last evening at the Carlisles’ soiree.” Mr. Vernon offered the observation with sincerity, something that was not always the case in Society.
“I was sad to miss it,” she said. “As my father’s health has begun to improve, I am hopeful that we will be present at those gatherings that are upcoming.”
He nodded. “Indeed.”
It was a very common interaction with him: pleasant conversation that was neither overly personal nor overly interesting. Would such an arrangement at least prove notunhappy? Was not being unhappy truly the most a lady could hope for?
A discouraging thought.
She turned to Mr. Travers. “When last we spoke, you were concerned with the well-being of one of your horses. I hope all has continued to be well on that front.”
He hesitated. “Yes.”
“You sound discouraged,” she observed, hoping to offer empathetic encouragement.
He eyed her with apparent confusion. It was not uncommon to assume that when interacting with a very somber gentleman, he was more upset with a situation than he actually proved to be. She imagined, over time, either she would come to understand him better or she would learn to not press the matter of his distress. Not the most exciting prospect.
