Page 34 of To Tame the Wild Rake
“That he is of good family and good character, and that neither of these things matter if I don’t like him. But I do like him, Charlotte, as far as I know him. We have been for drives and walks. We have danced. We have sat together, in company, at tea and at dinner. Always chaperoned. Always observed.”
She tossed one hand up in the air, as if throwing her frustrations to the corner of the room. “How is anyone to decide whether the man they are considering is who he appears to be? We are never allowed to even speak alone, except in a dance. How is he to know who I really am? I have to behave at all times with the utmost circumspection. If I laugh too loud, or ride too fast, or flirt even a little, I am a wanton, like people suppose my poor mother to have been.”
Charlotte nodded, thoughtfully. She had often thought the same about traditional courtship. Still, what did Charlotte know? She would never marry. “Perhaps you would be better discussing this with Matilda. Or Sarah. Someone who has been through a courtship.”
Jessica’s comment was a deep sigh.
“Perhaps not Sarah,” Charlotte amended. “Hers was hardly a traditional courtship.”
“The problem is that all the people I know well enough to talk to about this have love matches,” Jessica said. “I am not in love with Colyton, nor he with me. Matilda would tell me to wait for love.”
“That is not an infallible guide, either,” Charlotte observed. “Remember Margaret Warrington? She loved Lord Semple, and we all thought he loved her, too. But a year later, they could barely stand to be in the same room, and how they managed to produce two sons, I have no idea.”
Jessica nodded. “Yes, and everyone knows that the third child is Mr Barclay’s, and that two of Lady Fletcher’s children look remarkably like Semple. But Charlotte, that rather proves my point. They met at a ball, courted through the Season, and married at the end of it. A traditional courtship, with chaperones and in full view of all the world. Perhaps if they had known one another better, they would never have married.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Charlotte said. “I have no advice, Jess. How can I? I have no plans to marry. All I can offer is a pair of ears.”
Jessica reached for Charlotte’s hands, and gripped them, her hazel eyes so like her brother’s, intent on Charlotte’s. “That’s exactly what I want, Charlotte. Not advice. Just someone to listen to me.” She paused, frowning, then continued, “Charlotte, this is my sixth season. I shall be twenty-four this year. If I was going to fall in love, surely it would have happened by now? I want to marry. I want children. I want to use the skills I have been taught to manage a household and do my duty by my husband’s servants and tenants.”
Charlotte felt the same yearning, a desperate ache, a void that, in her case, could never be filled.
Jessica, flushing, had more to say. “I want to know what the wives giggle about, Charlotte. Is that wanton? I suppose it is. Perhaps I should tell Colyton. But if it is wanton, and it gives him a disgust of me, will he talk about it to his friends and ruin my chances even more than my birth did?”
She huffed a small puff of laughter. “There. That is part of what I have been fretting about. Colyton wishes to marry me, but he has never even kissed me. I have never been kissed, Charlotte. I have always tried so hard not to be my mother; not to let Aunt Eleanor down. The only person who attempted a kiss and more—it made me feel ill. I hope that is because he tried to force me—would have forced me had Charles and Matilda not come to my rescue. But perhaps it was me. Perhaps I am one of those women who cannot enjoy… that.”
Charlotte had also never participated in a kiss and hoped to remedy that this very evening. Perhaps it was her own circumstances that inspired her with an idea for Jessica.
“Why not tell Colyton that, Jess? That you have never been kissed, and that you are afraid, for you know marriage requires more than kissing, and you are old enough to have seen that women who have a distaste for the marriage bed do not have faithful husbands. Yes, and that you hope, if you and he marry, the pair of you will be able to enjoy that part of marriage as well as the friendship and support of one another in other aspects of your lives. Surely he will not think that wanton?”
Jessica thought about that for a moment, her head bowed, then looked up, smiling. “Good advice. We have not talked at all about what we think our marriage should be like, and that was foolish of me. I imagine he expects me to be a mother to his daughters and to give him a son. But he has not said so. And I have not spoken of my expectations either. I could not, of course, before he asked for my hand. But now… Yes, when he comes for my answer tomorrow, I shall tell him that I wish to discuss what he expects from a wife, and what I hope for from a husband, and then I shall give him my answer. Marriage is for life, after all.”
Should I tell Jessica what Colyton said to Sarah last year?Colyton had spoken disparagingly of Elias, whom he thought to be Sarah’s ward, and base born. He’d gone on to mention Matilda’s marriage to the Earl of Hamner as miscegenation, since Matilda was also a by-blow. And now he had asked Matilda’s half-sister to marry him.He has had a change of heart then, as the Earl of Hamner did.She hoped.
“But look at the time,” Jessica said. “Your carriage will be waiting for you, dear friend. I cannot thank you enough for your advice.”
“I hope you receive the answers you want, Jess. You deserve to be happy.” She picked up the cloak she had discarded by the door, putting her skirts between Jessica and her bag.
“So do you, Charlotte,” Jessica assured her. “I hope the path you have chosen makes you happy.”
So do I, Charlotte thought, her mind on the night ahead. “Don’t come down with me, Jessica. The halls are cold, and it is hardly worth putting on a cloak just to see me to the door, when I know Haverford House nearly as well as my own home.”
For what came next, she needed to be alone.
16
After Charlotte passed the footman on duty outside the family wing, she saw no one during her surreptitious traverse of the main building. Several times, she hesitated at a bend in the passage or a landing on the stairs. Each time, she summoned her courage and kept going.
Outside the door to the heir’s wing, she hesitated again. It was not too late to change her mind. A Haverford footman would fetch a coach for her, or send a message to retrieve her own. She took a deep breath and opened the door.
On the other side, a footman straightened from a slouch against the wall.
“You are lost, my lady. This wing is private,” he said, politely but firmly. “You will have to go back. I shall call someone to escort you.”
“Call Richards,” Charlotte instructed him, naming Aldridge’s butler. “I have an errand here, and Richards will escort me from this point.”
The butler’s name fetched a nod and instant compliance, but not trust. Aldridge must have tightened his security since her last invasion. “If you would wait here, please, my lady.”
Charlotte inclined her head in agreement.
