Page 11 of Unforeseen Affairs
“More or less,” Charlotte replied, fiddling with the large watch fob she always wore on a long, thick chain about her neck. “I’ve not done much myself.”
Her contribution had consisted of an occasional nod here and there. Which felt like plenty to her.
Susanna turned to study her with the sharp eye of a woman who knew her better than anyone else. Charlotte did not mind. She relished her stepmother’s attentions, especially as now they were divided among her and her two younger half-siblings—Thalia, all of six years old, and Lucius, four. Right now they were no doubt tearing up some patch of dirt out in the garden along with her cousin Harmonia’s seven-year-old daughter, Georgiana. What had once been a quiet house, haunted by the former glories of thenouveau richeSedleys and the ghosts of their dreams of clawing their way into the aristocracy, was now as cluttered and bustling as a nursery.
It was even more chaotic on the occasions when her cousin Marcus brought his little ones over. Edmund had been getting into mischief from the day he’d begun walking, while his twin brother, Lewis, would squall relentlessly over the slightest inconvenience.
As if she could read Charlotte’s mind, Susanna glanced over her shoulder at one of the massive floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out upon the walled garden.
“I wonder how the children are getting on.”
“Happily digging up the garden, I’d assume.”
Susanna walked over to a wicker chair, clearing it of a tiny Black Watch cape and spaniel-sized hunter’s cap before sitting down with an uncharacteristic sigh.
“I wish they would not,” she said lightly. “It rained only yesterday. No doubt it’s all mud.”
“They’re searching for a hoard,” Charlotte explained, fiddling with the watch fob. “Coins and axe heads and the like.”
The watch fob was made of a heavy carnelian set in gold. She’d first found it when, as a sad girl of fifteen who had just arrived at Oswine House, she was digging through old trunks in the attic, searching for anything that called to her. Something that proved she belonged, that this truly was her family.
Instead she’d found the watch fob of one Titus Sedley, an uncle who had died of blood poisoning long before she’d known she was a relative of his.
“A hoard?” Susanna raised an eyebrow. “Now, where might they get that idea from, I wonder?”
Charlotte allowed a rare smile.
Suddenly a strange, yet familiar feeling settled upon her. She ignored the tiny flicker of excitement within herself, refusing to clutch at it and scrutinize it lest it disappear. Instead she kept it at the periphery of her senses, hoping the omen would soon reveal itself.
Something important was about to happen.
Every inch of her skin felt electrified; the fine, downy hair on her arms stood straight up. Her heart thumped heavily in her chest.
What could it be?
“I wonder,” Susanna began in a casual, yet tentative voice, “if you might reconsider the dinner party invitation we spoke about.”
The flicker of excitement snuffed out. Charlotte dropped the watch fob, which hit her square in the chest. It smarted, but she did not flinch.
“Why?”
“It’s only, well, darling…” Susanna stuttered, her pretty face flushing. “Your father asked if I would put it to you once more,” she admitted apologetically. “He’s very keen on introducing you to this young man, the poet he’s mentioned before.”
Irritation struck Charlotte in nearly the same spot the watch fob had.
“I’m sorry. There, I’ve said it, and now we can both tell him your decision remains the same.” Susanna frowned.
Charlotte stood and went to the open trunk. She feigned interest in the contents, pulling out a ruffled blue shirt. Carolingian in style, canine in fit.
“It doesn’t matter, for I’m already engaged that evening.”
“Oh?” Susanna perked up at this piece of information. “Is Bess accompanying you?”
“I should think not,” Charlotte replied, and tossed the shirt back.
She heard Walter sigh, a sound more akin to a piglet in a barn than a pampered lapdog.
Charlotte looked back to her stepmother.
