Page 3 of Miss Mulberry and the Moody Marquess
The cawing voice was Mrs. Barrington, the most renowned society matron in their small corner of Britain. She was also a notorious gossip. Girding herself for the onslaught of questions, Charlotte forced a smile. “Yes, ma’am?”
“We are having a bit of an impromptu gathering at the White Oak Hall today, but all that is an advance of the true event,” she said, referencing her home by name. “I am leaving for Blackpool in a sennight for Mrs. Whitmore’s house party, and I thought a little gathering would be just the ticket. What could be better than a house party? Say you’ll come, Miss Mulberry. Both today and to Blackpool! I know you’ve been invited. It would be such a delight to have you there.”
Charlotte wanted to refuse. It was on the tip of her tongue to do so when her uncle answered for her. “That’d be just the thing for you, Charlotte,” he stated. “No more moping about the house. Get out and enjoy time with some young people!”
Oh, for the earth to simply open and swallow her whole. “No one is moping, Uncle.. And yes, Mrs. Barrington, I would be very pleased to attend your soiree today and I plan to attend Mrs. Whitlow’s house party.”
“And you, my lord?”
Charlotte glanced over her shoulder to see that Mrs. Barrington was addressing the Marquess who had been lurking behind them.
“And what?”
Two words. It was a miracle.
“Would you care to join us for my little party today and Mrs. Whitlow’s in Blackpool? I know she sent you an invitation as well.” The invitation was offered without any sort of enthusiasm at all. Inviting the Marquess to any event was rather like asking someone how they liked the weather. Everyone did it, and those asked always muttered some polite nonsense that meant nothing and everyone parted ways.
Charlotte waited for him to refuse. Because he always refused. It was a given for all of them really. Even Mrs. Barrington appeared bored as she waited for the very expected answer. And then, he shocked them all with one single word answer.
“Yes.”
It was impossible to say who was more stunned by his response, Charlotte, Mrs. Barrington or the Marquess himself. Regardless, after a momentary pause, Mrs. Barrington cleared her throat lightly. “To which part are you agreeing, my lord? The gathering today at White Oak Hall—which, since we are having such fine weather today, will be just some light refreshments and outdoor games. Or Mrs. Whitlow’s house party in Blackpool?”
“Both,” the Marquess replied.
It was to be a day filled with such surprises. Whether they be pleasant, unpleasant or of great variety, remained to be seen.
Chapter Two
It was not in his normal way to engage socially. It wasn’t that he didn’t like people. He liked them just fine on a one-to-one basis, especially if they didn’t talk a lot of nonsense. But in a room full of them, everyone talking at once, with a dozen different conversations bouncing around about him, it all just felt too much. But he would persevere. He would do so because he finally had the chance he’d been waiting for. Seven long years it had taken. And really, who had ever heard of a betrothal that lasted seven years?
If her aged and decrepit uncle had been in a better frame of mind and better physical condition, the man ought to have done something about it. Of course, given the fact that the fellow might well have walked to primary school with the Apostles, the slip could be understood somewhat, if not overlooked entirely. Though, he supposed it would be bad form to complain about the very thing that now offered him his golden opportunity. Especially when he had waited so very long for this chance.Because it had taken seven years. And in those seven years, from his great distance, he’d watched Miss Charlotte Mulberry shine. Oh, and she did. She did, indeed shine.
His first impression of her had been, while accurate, a pale glimmer of how wonderful she truly was. With her golden hair and sunny disposition, she positively glowed. He never saw her that she did not offer a warm smile to every person she passed, no matter how low or high they might be or of any particular temperament. There was a warmth and peacefulness about her that seemed to put others around her at ease. She’d certainly always had that effect on him. Always kind and considerate, always pleasant, and always just out of his reach—because she’d been promised to another.
It was wrong of him, perhaps, to rejoice in her disappointment. But he did. Not because he wished for her to be unhappy, but because it presented an opportunity for him to make his case, to show her that perhaps her former betrothed was not the only gentleman to whom she could be happily wed.
“Miss Mulberry,” he said, as she neared him. “Might I offer to escort you and your uncle in my carriage?”
She smiled and it was like the sun peeking from behind clouds. “Oh, you are too kind, my lord. My uncle, I fear, will not join us for the festivities. I shall see him settled at home with his tea and a warm blanket, and then I shall make the trek to Mrs. Barrington’s on my own. It isn’t far at all.”
“I will walk with you.” Immediately, he knew he should have phrased it as a question.
She blinked in surprise, and her smile appeared a bit forced. “Oh that’s hardly necessary. You really are too kind. I’m certain you’ve much better things to do with your time!”
Ethan was positively stumped. How could he let her know that it wasn’t kindness motivating him without being inappropriate? But then he needn’t have worried. Her uncle took care of the matter for him. Appropriateness be damned.
“Good lord, girl! If a gentleman offers to walk a pretty girl somewhere, he’s not doing so to be kind! He’s doing so becauseshe’s a blasted pretty girl! I can make my own tea and I don’t need a blanket. Walk with his lordship to the Barringtons’ and if that wretched Arliss is there, punch him in the nose… her, too, the cat. Can’t say it’d make her face any more or less pinched.”
With that, Miss Mulberry’s cantankerous uncle shuffled away, leaving them standing there in the churchyard—a blush staining her cheeks while he fought back a grin. He’d never had any opinion about her uncle one way or another, but now he decided he liked the old man very much. His forthright expression of his opinion of the Cranfords was spot on.
“I beg your pardon, my lord. My uncle is quite outspoken,” Miss Mulberry said, clearly at a loss as to how she might recover from the embarrassment of her uncle’s behavior.
“And correct. On all counts,” he said, offering her his arm.
She smiled at him then, all the worry and embarrassment simply lifting from her lovely face. Though that fetching blush remained stubbornly in her cheeks. “Then I should be most pleased to accept, my lord. Most pleased, indeed.”
Ethan took a second to appreciate the simple pleasure of her touch, innocent as it was when she placed her hand on his arm. Then they set off down the lane, following the procession of others who were leaving the church to gather at Mrs. Barrington’s for her impromptu soiree. And the entire time, he steadfastly ignored the stunned gazes of their neighbors and acquaintances who were simply agog at what they were seeing.
