by Kira Stewart
“But I do not love him, mama, and I have already told him that.”
“Oh, that makes no difference, my dear. A man like Sir Harvey will not be expecting love at his age. Friendship and companionship will be enough. Now, it is almost eleven, and you must go and meet the man.”
It was no use protesting. The appointed hour had arrived, and Charlotte walked slowly to the library.
Sir Harvey was standing by one of the windows as she entered.
“My dear, thank you for agreeing to meet with me this morning. Now, come and join me by the fire.”
Her legs trembled as she walked over to the chair set by the fire.
“Are you sure that you are quite well, my dear? I am worried about you. You were so quiet over breakfast, and now you look so pale?”
“I am quite well, sir, just a little tired, that is all.”
“Yes, of course, it has been a long journey. Now, come sit by me and warm yourself by the fire. I have a delicate matter to discuss with you.”
Charlotte sat in silence.
Sir Harvey stood and began to pace the room.
“When we were in Bath, I told you a little about my circumstances and that I had been a widower these past five years.”
The girl nodded, but remained silent.
“Well, I have been lonely these past five years, and I have been thinking that I should like to marry again. Oh, I know that I am an old man, but I can offer friendship and companionship. I think you would make a most suitable companion, my dear.”
“You flatter me, Sir Harvey, but I also told you that I could never marry a man who I did not love.”
“But, Charlotte, dear, just think of all the pretty things you could have. You could have everything that money can buy—clothing, jewels, anything.”
“Everything that is, except love, sir.”
“You are so young, my dear. Love is overrated. Now, be sensible. I offer you everything I have.”
Charlotte dug in her heels, suddenly finding a boldness she had not felt before.
“Love may be overrated, sir, but I would at least like to have the chance to try it.”
Sir Harvey scratched his head and frowned.
“You are still thinking about that soldier of yours, I suppose? Well, he cannot offer you anything. What is he, a mere groomsman? He could barely afford to keep you, let alone keep you in the manner to which you are accustomed. Be sensible, my girl. See sense. I will speak to your father on the subject, and I am sure that he will be in agreement.”
“My father will agree, because it would be good for business, sir.”
“He will agree, because it would be good for his daughter, my dear.”
The two had reached a stalemate and eyed each other warily.
“Is there to be no hope for me then, Charlotte?”
“You are a good man, sir, and that is the reason I cannot lie to you.”
“Then there is no hope for me at all?”
The girl shook her head.
“Well, my dear. I admire your honesty, an admirable trait in a young woman. I only wish that I were forty years younger. Your mother and father will be ill pleased, but do not worry. The business deal I have proposed with your father will still go ahead. That should sweeten the blow a little. Now, you are sure that you will not change your mind?”
The girl looked as if she were going to cry.
“Now, my dear, do not go and upset yourself. I should be the one who is crying. Now, come and give me a hug.”
Charlotte was surprised by how well Sir Harvey had taken the news. He hugged her more like a kind uncle, than a prospective husband, and his smile was genuine.
“Now, I think we should keep the topic of this little conversation between ourselves, don’t you? I do not think your mother or father would be pleased to know that you have refused such an offer. You must tell them something though. No doubt your mother will be waiting to hear what I had to say. Now, we must think of something. I know, tell her that I have asked you to come and read to me at my home in Bath when I am there. It is true that I do get lonely, and you can come and use my library, and be some company for me at the same time. Now, what do you think of that? I do expect you to come and see me though. My suggestion is not entirely made up for your dear mother’s benefit.”
It was a great plan, and Charlotte readily agreed.
•••
Her mother was eagerly waiting for her in the Drawing Room.
“He asked you to do what?”
The disappointment on Mrs. Thompson’s face was plain to see, as her high expectations came crashing down around her.
“Are you sure, Charlotte? I was positive that he was going to ask for your hand. You do not think that you misunderstood his meaning?”
“No, Mama. Sir Harvey is a lonely man, and simply needs a companion. He has asked me to visit him in Bath, to use his library and to read to him, that is all.”
“Well, why on earth did he need a private interview to ask such a trivial matter? He could have asked you that over breakfast?”
“Perhaps he wanted to know what my honest response would be, Mama, since you tend to do most of the talking on my behalf.”
Her mother looked aghast.
“That simply is not true, Charlotte. You know that I only have your best interests at heart. Well, I suppose we must look on the bright side. Sir Harvey still wants to see you. Perhaps the man wants to get to know you better, does not want to rush into things, because of your age difference. That is it—there is still hope.”
Charlotte smiled. There was no use in saying anymore.
“Yes, mother, dear.”
Now relaxed, the girl could enjoy the rest of her stay in London, and more importantly, the good company of Sir Harvey Lloyd. He truly was a gentleman and paid heed to their every need.
15.
Once they had returned home to Bath, Charlotte was eager to call on her friend, Henrietta Langton. So much had happened, and there was so much she had to tell.
After breakfast on Tuesday, she set off. The weather was fine and her father allowed her to use the carriage for the fifteen-minute ride.
Her friend was ready to meet her at the door, eager to hear the girl’s news.
“Come, my dear, let us sit in the library and you can tell me all.”
Charlotte explained everything, from seeing Charles unexpectedly at the Inn, and then again in Hyde Park, to the words of the gypsy, Zola, and the proposal from Sir Harvey.
Henrietta sat quietly listening to the girl, trying to take in all that had happened.
“My dear, firstly I think that Sir Harvey has acted most civilly. He sounds a real gentleman. Then there is your mysterious Charles. That you met him once by chance is strange, but meeting him twice within two days is quite extraordinary. Something is not quite right here, and you are wise to be cautious, just like the gypsy has warned. But from what you have told me, the man does seem to have real feelings for you. It is a mystery. You need to ask him openly what is going on. Such secrecy is not good. The man is obviously hiding something. Do you think that I should accompany you on Saturday to the Reading Rooms for your meeting, in case you need a friendly face? At least I can give you my opinion of him, good or bad.”
“You are a good friend, Henrietta, but I think perhaps I should see him alone.”
“Then perhaps I can arrange to be at the Reading Room the same time as you, but not with you, if you know what I mean. I can sit close by to get a good look at your mysterious Charles, and in that way, I will also be at hand, should you need any help.”
It was a cunning plan and having confided all, Charlotte felt much happier. Now, she just had to think of what to say to Charles at her next meeting.
Over the next few days, Charlotte sat in front of her dressing table mirror, practicing what she might say to Charles when she met him again. There were several questions that she needed answers to.
“Is Dewhurst really your surname?”
No
, that wouldn’t do, it was too direct and almost calling him a liar.
“There seems to be something that you are not telling me, Charles. Tell me, dearest, is there something that I need to know?”
That sounded too much like her mother. However, she worded her questions, it seemed too much like prying.
Perhaps she should tell him about the gypsy and her palm reading? No doubt he would probably laugh, but surely she would be able to tell from his expression, if there was any truth in her words.
That was it. She would see how he reacted and take it from there. If he lied to her directly again, then obviously he was not the man for her.
As Saturday approached, Charlotte fretted. She had never been one to worry over her appearance before, but now, she scrutinized every hair on her head.
It had been different on the times she had met him before, as she had not expected to see him. But now, she was determined to look her best.
Laying all her dresses out across her bed, she wondered which one was the most becoming. For once, she wished she had listened to her mother and spent more time in choosing her clothing. Most of her day dresses were quite plain with only a colored sash or an insert of lace to brighten them up.
Finally, she chose her light pink muslin with a darker pink pelisse.
Her mother was both amused and delighted that her daughter was at last showing an interest in what she wore, and quietly believed that it was all for the benefit of Sir Harvey—that the short spell in London had, at last, opened the girl’s eyes to the latest fashions.
For two whole days, the heavens darkened and the rain did not stop. If it was still raining on Saturday, her mother would wonder why she was so keen to go to the Reading Rooms in such weather, and would become suspicious. She would have to take the carriage, and her mother might even suggest coming along herself, and that certainly would not do.
16.
Luckily, the sun was streaming through her bedroom window when she awoke on Saturday morning. As soon as she opened her eyes, she felt a giddy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She must not let her mother see how eager she was for her visit. Dressing with care, she entered the breakfast room a little later than normal.
Her eagle-eyed mother noticed her dress, and immediately felt suspicious.
“Why, my dear, you are looking quite lovely today, and I see you are wearing your best day dress. Are you planning on visiting a friend?”
Charlotte took a deep breath, fearing that she would blush and give her secret away.
“I am visiting the Reading Rooms today, Mama.”
Mrs. Thompson raised an eyebrow.
“You are rather dressed up for the occasion, my dear. Whom are you hoping to see?”
The poor girl hesitated. It was hard to lie to her mother, especially at close range. Then she remembered Henrietta.
“I have arranged to meet Henrietta Langton, Mama. We plan on taking tea later.”
“I am glad you are mixing with the right sort of people at last, Charlotte. Now, I see why you are dressed up. Mrs. Langton is a very fashionable young woman indeed. I see that she is having a favorable impression on you.”
Although her meeting was not until noon, Charlotte set off early. She could not bear waiting at home, and she hoped that a brisk walk would settle her nerves. The day was indeed pleasant. The late season’s sun was bright, and yet subtler than its summer’s counterpart, bathing her path in a golden light. The trees lining the streets were already changing into their autumnal hues, as if the light itself were painting the leaves.
With the sun on her face, everything seemed so positive. It was a day for new beginnings—she could feel it deep inside. The girl had already selected her future path, and she knew it was the right one.
Turning the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks. With a flash of white and black wings, a magpie landed right in the middle of the cobbled street, pecking at a branch that had fallen from a nearby tree. Charlotte was not a naturally superstitious girl, but after her encounter with the gypsy, she somehow had a feeling that something out with her own free-will was guiding her fate. Suddenly, the bird stopped and looked up at her, its beady eyes seeming to stare right through her, almost as if it knew something that she did not. Then, without warning, it flapped its wings, as if alarmed, and flew into a nearby tree.
The old rhyme came into her head, and she scanned the trees along the road, hoping to see its mate.
One for sorrow,
Two for mirth,
Three for a wedding,
And four for death.
But the magpie was alone. She remembered the old custom, told to her when she was but a girl, that to ward off any evil, she should salute the bird.
“Good morning, Mr. Magpie, how are your good lady wife and children, today?”
Charlotte felt a little foolish talking to a bird, but she felt it necessary to ward off such a bad omen.
It was a silly thing, but suddenly, it took the shine off her day. She was a sensible girl and not prone to believe in superstitions like her mother, but now a familiar anxiety crept once again into her heart.
Reaching the steps of the Reading Rooms, her heart was already beating fast, and she quickly made her way into the reading salon to find a seat. She had hoped to see Henrietta already there to help calm her nerves, but it was still early, and Mrs. Langton had not yet arrived.
Finding a suitable spot by a window, she made herself as comfortable as possible. From here, she had a good view of the front entrance below and could see all the comings and goings, in and out of the Reading Rooms.
To help pass the time, she picked up one of the ladies’ fashion magazines, but she turned the pages without really seeing the contents—her gaze shifting every few seconds to the window and the view beyond.
At a quarter to the hour, Charlotte was pleased to see her friend arrive. Henrietta Langton acknowledged her friend with a smile, but no more, lest the mystery man suddenly appear. Instead, she chose a book and took her place at a table, not far from Charlotte.
The girl longed to talk to her friend, needed someone to allay her fears, as the clock hands slowly moved their way towards twelve, yet she dared not.
The library clock chimed noon and the girl’s anxiety grew. Her hands shook as she turned the pages of the paper in front of her. Part of her wanted to walk away, but she remained seated. As soon as she saw him again, she knew everything would be all right.
A man stepped from a carriage at the entrance outside. She could not see his face and she thought her heart might stop. But then he turned and she could see it was not him. Her disappointment was immense. It was if she had been waiting a lifetime, yet only five minutes had passed.
The clock on the wall chimed quarter past the hour. Charlotte sat alone.
Turning around, she looked for her friend, and Henrietta smiled reassuringly.
He was only fifteen minutes late. It was nothing, and yet Charlotte already had a sinking feeling in her breast.
17.
When the clock chimed the half hour, she had almost given up hope.
“Miss Charlotte Thompson?”
One of the clerks from the library desk stood by her side.
“This has just arrived for you, miss. I was asked to give it to you straight away.”
The man handed her an envelope with her name scrawled across one side, and the other fastened with an ornate wax seal.
She recognized the handwriting at once.
Charlotte’s hand trembled as she took the letter.
“Who delivered this?”
“A young boy delivered it, miss, just five minutes ago. He had a description of you and I came to find you straight away. I hope everything is all right, miss.”
For a moment, Charlotte could not bear to open the letter. She was certain it would contain bad news, especially after seeing the magpie.
The man must have changed his mind.
Pulling at the seal, she opened the letter.
; It was brief.
Dear Charlotte,
Forgive me, my dear, for sending this letter and my not being there in person. I can see you waiting for me now, your serious gaze wondering where I am. I have been kept in London on urgent business, and am likely to be here for some time. I cannot disclose what that business is as yet, but be sure of its upmost importance in keeping me away from you. I have not forgotten our oath, and I will be back as soon as I can. I have a lot to explain to you. Keep believing in me. I gave you my oath that I would return for you, and so that you shall never forget, I enclose a small token of my affection for you. It was my late mother’s and I carried it throughout battle around my neck as a lucky talisman. It kept me safe and I hope that it will do the same for us. Please wear it until we can meet again.
There will be a happy ending to our story, I promise.
With greatest affection,
Charles.
Looking inside the envelope again, Charlotte could see something small wrapped in tissue in one corner. Unwrapping the paper, she found a small golden friendship ring, two hands encircling a small flower made up of pearls, gathered around an emerald stone set in the middle. It was beautiful and the girl slipped it quickly onto one of her fingers, where it fit perfectly.
There was a second sheet of paper attached to the first, and on it, was a poem written out in his bold looping style.
Sonnet LVIII William Shakespeare
That god forbid, that made me first your slave,
I should in thought control your times of pleasure,
Or at your hand the account of hours to crave,