Page 14 of Miss Mulberry and the Moody Marquess
“No! Do not. Let them know that I wished to attend, but that I feared Miss Mulberry’s vitriol… In order for her to be labeled a villain, I must first look like a victim.”
Seivers nodded, but before she walked away, she said, “There is another way to stir dissent, ma’am. His lordship is the only truly eligible bachelor in attendance… but Miss Mulberry is not the only available young lady. Were she to be passed over by yet another gentleman, it would raise questions as to why.”
“Miss Dearborn? Does she have her cap set for the Marquess?”
Seivers eyes widened and with less than her normal servile deference, she replied, “He’s an unmarried Marquess, madam. Every cap is set for him.”
Georgianna’s smile widened. “I’m going to pen her a note and ask her to take a turn with me. Would you deliver it?”
“Certainly, ma’am. With pleasure.”
Charlotte was seated in the garden, enjoying the lovely vistas it offered. There was something about being so close to the sea. The sky was different, she thought. The colors richer and brighter and the sky itself seemed to stretch on forever.
“There you are… I thought perhaps you were hiding after that ugly business in the dining room.”
Charlotte glanced up to see Mrs. Whitlow hovering nearby, wringing her hands in a worried fashion. “It was unpleasant, but hardly worth note. And Eth—the Marquess seems to have it all well in hand.”
At her near slip of the tongue, Mrs. Whitlow’s eyebrows rose with curiosity. Then she moved closer, settling onto the bench beside her. “If it becomes too much, I will ask them to leave. I should never have invited them if I had known she would be so…petty. That’s hardly the word for it, though I can think of none better.”
Charlotte couldn’t either.Likely,she thought,because she did not know words foul enough to describe Georgianna Cranford or her behavior. “I will be perfectly fine, Mrs. Whitlow. I will do my utmost to avoid further confrontations with her and no doubt his lordship will do the same.”
“He is quite taken with you… our Moody Marquess, that is,” Mrs. Whitlow noted. “Is there some sort of understanding between the pair of you? I would not ask, but I do feel some degree of responsibility for you. While his sister’s presence does meet the requirements for propriety, she’s hardly what one could call an attentive chaperone.”
Charlotte wondered briefly how much to reveal and ultimately decided that she needed an ally. She needed someonewho would, at least quietly, cheer her on. “He’s stated that he wishes to marry me. And I have taken it under consideration.”
“Rubbish. Say yes,” Mrs. Whitlow said, her eyes alight with glee. “Immediately. We’ll announce your betrothal here, have the banns read on Sunday. Better yet, you all can head for Gretna Green and elope. The scandal would make me the hostess of the Season!”
“We hardly know one another!” Charlotte protested.
“You’ve known one another for seven years!”
Charlotte shook her head. “We’ve known of one another for seven years.”
Mrs. Whitlow eyed her skeptically for a moment. “That isn’t what this is about. You’re afraid, Charlotte. Because you did know Arliss Cranford for all those years and still he betrayed you.”
Her immediate discomfort at that statement was an inescapable indication that it was, in fact, true. Charlotte recognized that immediately. She didn’t want to be a coward. She didn’t want to let fear stop her from seizing what could be a good future—a happy life for herself. “I am frightened. I don’t think I could bear another disappointment.”
“Then reach out and grasp this opportunity. You may not feel that you know him well enough, but I know you both. And I know that for seven years I have watched him watch you when he thought no one else was looking. That is a man in love, Charlotte. One cannot blame you for not recognizing it given than Arliss Cranford has been your only basis for comparison.”
It was a rather harsh assessment, but not an unfair one. Arliss had never really loved her. That was becoming more apparent all the time. She’d simply met the criteria that he’d identified as desirable in a wife, namely that she was manageable. He’d hardly found that with Georgianna. Perhaps he hadn’t really known what he wanted at all. She certainly hadnot. Life with Arliss would have been very much like life with her uncle—lonely and laborious.
Having spent the entirety of her life being the proper young lady everyone expected her to be had certainly not yet yielded the rewards that it ought to have. The entirety of her youthful years—her marriageable years—had been wasted on a man who’d elected to marry another. Maybe it was time to stop playing the game by the rules when everyone else was so content to ignore them.
For just a moment, Charlotte allowed herself to imagine what married life with the Marquess would be like. The truth of the matter was that she could not imagine it. Not because she didn’t want to or because it was out of her reach, but because Charlotte had never, in all of her life, anticipated that she would have a marriage with someone whom she had such a passionate response to. She certainly hadn’t imagined that she would marry a man who seemed as devoted to her as the Marquess professed to be. Seven years of simply waiting and hoping that an opportunity would com. It boggled the mind.
Imagining such a life was impossible, but if she were brave enough, Charlotte thought, she might just live it. Throwing caution to the wind, she met Mrs. Whitlow’s speculative gaze, and with much more decisiveness than such an impulsive decision would typically provoke, Charlotte said, “I’d need to speak with him. Privately, of course. But I do not think we will elope. But we can marry either by special license or common license and make that happen very quickly.”
Mrs. Whitlow sat back, all but crowing with delight. “Wait here. I shall see that he comes to you. The garden should offer enough privacy without being so private that scandal might ensue. Though, in all honesty, a bit of scandal would be very good for me.”
Charlotte didn’t voice her agreement on the subject, but she thought perhaps a bit of scandal might be just the ticket for all of them.
Chapter Ten
Ethan had been on his way out to take an afternoon ride when a footman approached him with a missive. He had no notion who it was from as it was not signed. It simply instructed him to come to the library for a moment to discuss a matter of vital importance. Since there were only two people in attendance whom he could have such vital business with—either Miss Charlotte Mulberry or his sister—he didn’t hesitate to alter course.
Making his way to the library, he entered the room and frowned. There was someone present, but it was not Charlotte or Regina. Leaving the door open behind him and keeping his distance from the young woman, he was very blunt. “You sent for me.”
Miss Alice Dearborn turned away from the window and smiled at him. “Indeed. I know it is most irregular, my lord, but I felt that I must speak with you. It’s quite imperative.”
