Send a reply and let me know if you can accompany me.
Warmest regards,
Serena
Of course she’d go. She wanted to become more involved in this project of Serena’s, to use her time and energy for the good of others. She loved the way Serena put it…imagining the possibilities. She wanted to have a hand in turning those possibilities into realities. She’d send a reply to Serena after she read William’s note.
She picked up his missive and this time, without lingering over it, broke the seal, but was disappointed to find it only contained a few lines.
Dear Charlotte,
Liverpool is determined to have the matter of how to fund England’s war debt settled once and for all with a comprehensive measure. Right now the Whigs and Tories are far apart on the issue, and I can see a great deal of contentious debate ahead in the coming week.
Which means (and I hope you aren’t too happy about this!) that it’s unlikely you’ll see me for the next few days. Rest assured I will do everything in my power to bring about a swift agreement, but I don’t hold out much hope that this will be decided quickly.
Ever yours,
William
P.S. In my dreams last night, we shared several delightful waltzes. I wish real waltzes could resemble my dream versions, which included holding you as close as I liked, and where kisses weren’t frowned upon. You can lecture me about it next time we’re together, if you want.
A sharp ache settled in her chest at the idea of not seeing him for a while. She probably wouldn’t see Phillip much either, but this was a less distressing thought for her.
Resolved not to be ruled by melancholy, she reached for a sheet of stationery and dashed off a reply to Serena. Staying busy would help fill the hole of William’s absence in her life over the next few days.
Not just the next few days, Charlotte. What about after you jilt him?
As it was wont to do, some aggravating corner of her mind insisted on pointing out truths she didn’t want to face. If she felt empty at the prospect of William’s absence while Parliament settled the war debt issue, how would she feel when they called an end to the betrothal?
Lonely.
Bereft.
Heartbroken.
All the more reason to find a worthwhile purpose to fill her life when that eventuality came. Because regardless of how much she enjoyed his company, the chasm between them hadn’t narrowed, the type of life each wished to lead still diverged from the other, and she still didn’t see how to overcome the differences between them in a way that ensured the happiness of them both.
Passionate kisses were all well and good, but they weren’t a substantial enough foundation on which to build a life together. No matter how much her heart might wish they were.
* * *
The next afternoon, Charlotte arrived home tired, exhilarated, and more than a little sweaty and dusty from touring all five stories of the newly leased property with Serena. Afterward, they’d gone to Edwina’s residence on Upper Grosvenor Street, and over cups of tea had discussed what renovations would be necessary to fulfill the vision they had for housing the widows and their children.
Intent and driven, Serena struck Charlotte as the commanding general of their quartet, while she’d been elevated to the role of aide-de-camp alongside Edwina and the duchess. She’d come home with a list of fifty-six names for which she was to write letters soliciting donations of household items as well as monetary funds for the day-to-day expenses of running the place. Writing that many donor pleas would occupy her free time for the next several days, but she was happy to have a worthwhile project to focus on.
To her disappointment, there was no new message from William waiting for her on the hall table, nor, when she hurried to her writing desk, was there anything bearing his familiar handwriting. Just a pile of invitations for which she could muster little interest if he weren’t going to be able to attend them with her. She knew he was busy, but she’d hoped that he might find the time to dash off a quick note.
May as well get used to it, an inner voice taunted.
With a vicious tug on her bonnet ribbons, she undid the bow and tore off her bonnet, carelessly tossing it onto a nearby chair. With equal negligence, she pulled off her gloves, dropping them onto the chair as well, feeling not one whit better for letting her emotions get the best of her. She closed her eyes and drew in a long breath.
Calmer, she sat at her desk and studied the list of names. The first two on the list were Elizabeth and Lydia. She’d start with those, she decided. She pulled some stationery from the drawer, dipped her pen in ink, and…paused, her hand poised to write the salutation, when the name of a different recipient came to mind. After a moment’s indecision, she began writing.
Dear William,
Strangely, I’m not thrilled at the news I won’t see you for a few days, and am highly suspicious that it has something to do with avoiding the poetry reading at Lady Mortensen’s tomorrow evening. I will be forced to soldier on without you, I suppose.
I accompanied Serena to the new property that’s been leased to house the war widows and their families. I’m excited to help ready it for them. It’s such a worthwhile endeavor…next time I see you I’ll tell you about the plans we have for it.
Until then,
Charlotte
It wasn’t the cleverest of notes, but perhaps it would draw an answer from him. And in the meantime, she had work to do. Busyness would help fill the void of his absence.
* * *
“How’s tonight’s speech coming along?”
William looked up from his work, surprised to see Lord Huntington entering his study. “It’s done. Or nearly so. I’m just polishing some of the rougher edges.” With his quill, William pointed to the pages spread across his desk. “Once I’m done, I can have Stevens make a copy for you, if you wish.”
William’s secretary had worked such long days this week as the parliamentary debates dragged on that William had insisted on putting him in one of his guest rooms rather than have the man trek home after midnight each day. He planned to give Stevens a few days off once they were past the intense pace of work demanded by the prime minister’s push to reach a resolution on the war debt.
“No need.” Huntington rested his elbows on the arms of his chair and steepled his fingers before him. “You’ve argued our position brilliantly this week. Just keep on doing what you’re doing, and we’ll have this wrapped up satisfactorily in a day or two.”
William feared his friend was being too optimistic. They’d made some inroads in the last three days, and chipped away at some of the opposition, but there was still a wide chasm between the plan favored by Liverpool and the Tories and the proposals offered by the Whigs. With any luck, weariness with the process would draw the parties to a compromise solution.
Huntington leaned forward, a broad smile on his face. “I spoke with Tolliver this morning. He said Liverpool is impressed with your efforts on this funding legislation. I think that bodes well for your chances to lead the reforms commission. In fact, I think it’s as good as yours.”
“Did Tolliver say anything specific? Or are you merely inferring that my chances are favorable?” As one of Liverpool’s trusted advisers, if anyone had knowledge of whom the prime minister intended to name to the chairmanship, it would be Tolliver.
“Tolliver’s too wily to say anything definitive until they’re ready to make an announcement, so I was forced to read between the lines. But there was a certain tone in his voice when he said he wasn’t the only one in the inner circle who thinks you’re on the cusp of a brilliant career in politics.”
This was gratifying to hear, although William suspected Charlotte would be less than pleased by the thought of him seriously pursuing a life in politics. Truth be told, he wasn’t entirely sure it was what he wanted, but neither was he sure he wished to rule it out. Beyond getting the chairmanship, that is, which he did want, although for reasons that had less to do with politica
l ambition, and more to do with seeing it stayed out of the hands of men who would use it for their own gain.
“I thought you’d be more pleased to hear that,” Huntington said when William made no response.
“I am,” William assured him. “Being named to lead Liverpool’s reforms commission is important to me. You and I both know how vital it is for the government to recognize the concerns of the populace, and enact the sort of policies that will address those issues. If it doesn’t, we’re going to have more unrest and strife throughout the country, and that serves no one’s purposes in the long run.”
“You are your father’s son, my boy. Henry had the same strong sense of justice, the same desire to do the right thing. He’d be proud of you. What am I saying? He was proud of you, and he’d approve of the man you’ve become.”
“I hope so.” William wanted to believe that. Certainly, he tried to live up to the example set by his father. “I’ll never measure up to the man Papa was, but I try to fill his shoes the best I can.”
“Henry wouldn’t want you to try to fill his shoes. He’d want you to choose your own path, but I know he’d be pleased if that path led you to the office of prime minister.”
William shook his head. “I don’t aspire to such lofty heights. You know that.”
Lord Huntington’s smile was indulgent. “Not yet, perhaps.”
William returned the other man’s smile with a wry one of his own. “Maybe not ever.”
“That’s your prerogative, of course. But don’t close that door too hastily.”
“I rarely do anything with haste. You know that.”
Huntington chuckled. “Not usually. Although that engagement of yours happened rather suddenly.”
“About that…,” William said. “I feel badly it was sprung on everyone like that.”
“Don’t give it a second thought. Anyway, I’m hardly in a position to criticize. My Gwen and I shocked our families by eloping.”
“I didn’t know that,” William said.
“It created quite a stir at the time, but these days it’s largely been forgotten. So believe me when I say I understand that matters of the heart aren’t always dictated by prudence. But in other areas of importance, one ought to be guided by reason and wise counsel.”
“On that we concur,” William said. “And I promise you that I won’t make any decision concerning my role in politics without a great deal of reflection.”
But now those reflections must include Charlotte, and how she figured into his future.
If she figured in his future.
It was becoming harder to imagine one without her, but he wasn’t sure she felt similarly toward him. Until he sorted out his feelings for her and ascertained hers for him, it was hard to know what form his future would take.
He knew Huntington’s ambitions for him; he knew Charlotte’s reluctance to embrace a life centered in London. Less certain in his mind was what he wanted. Although perhaps the real question was more how to reconcile these competing interests.
He wasn’t driven by a desire to attain a high office simply for its own sake, and he didn’t want to be the sort of man who was. And he knew if his father were here, he’d agree with him on that. His father had always stressed service, but not ambition. But at the same time, he did feel a strong sense of duty to England.
He suspected gaining a sense of clarity on a potential future in politics would depend on whether or not he was named the commission chair. And whether or not he and Charlotte turned their pretend betrothal into a real one.
He missed her though. Missed her a great deal, and hoped she missed him.
She’d hinted that she might, in her note from a few days ago. Hinted for Charlotte, that is. She’d written she wasn’t thrilled she wouldn’t see him for a while. Maybe he was a deluded fool, but he’d taken that to indicate she longed for his company as he longed for hers.
Perhaps sensing his thoughts had turned to Charlotte—had it shown in his expression?—Lord Huntington said, “It’s wonderful Serena and Miss Hurst have become fast friends. Especially if a career in politics is in your future. After acting as my hostess in the last few years, Serena can help ease your fiancée’s transition into that role for you. With the shifting winds of politics, it can be a delicate balance, one which isn’t easy for the inexperienced to navigate. I suggested she take your intended under her wing and ease the way.”
“I’m sure Charlotte will appreciate Serena’s assistance.”
Huntington nodded thoughtfully. “I knew her father, Grenville Hurst. We were at Eton together, but I rarely saw him after that. He went to Cambridge, I attended Oxford. He came to London for parliamentary votes a handful of times over the years, but he was a scholar at heart. More at home immersed in ancient history, rather than taking a hand in shaping the present. Good man, but I admit I had some concerns when I first saw your betrothal announcement, concerns that she might share her father’s reclusive tendencies. But she’s a great deal like my Serena. I should have trusted your judgment.”
William felt a little guilty at this praise, since his judgment had nothing to do with bringing Charlotte into his life, although it was leaning more and more in favor of keeping her a part of it.
“It’s true she shares Serena’s passion for the welfare of others.” He refrained from adding that Charlotte’s interest in social functions ran quite a bit cooler. “It’s one of the things I admire most about her, in fact.”
The hall clock chimed thrice, a reminder the afternoon was waning.
“Already three o’clock,” Lord Huntington said, sliding forward in his chair and resting his hands on his knees, as if preparing to come to his feet. “I should let you finish your work. Are you still planning on coming to Bellamy’s before tonight’s session?”
“I’ll be there,” William affirmed.
Adjacent to the Palace of Westminster, Bellamy’s was a favored gathering place for the members of both houses of Parliament before and after the evening parliamentary sessions. The delicious food and excellent wine cellar drew Whigs and Tories alike, making it a popular location to talk strategy, or rally support for a particular piece of legislation, or to celebrate a triumph if one’s side prevailed in a legislative vote.
“Good enough then,” Huntington said. He rubbed his hands together. “A juicy beefsteak and a fine claret will start the evening off right, and after dinner you can work your oratory magic.”
“I’ll do my best,” William promised.
The other man grinned and winked. “It’s as good as done then. I can feel it. We’ll have you back to waltzing your fiancée around the dance floor before the end of this week.”
William rose to see his friend out.
“No need,” Huntington said, holding up a hand. “I can see myself out the door.”
Once Huntington closed the door behind him, William picked up his quill again, but for a few minutes he let his mind wander to thoughts of Charlotte: her smile; her blue eyes alight with sparks of aggravation…twinkling with amusement…dreamy with yearning; the way she felt in his arms; the soft press of her lips against his…
He closed his eyes and drew in a long breath, savoring these remembrances. Finally though, he pushed them aside and returned his attention to the work at hand. Because the sooner they got this legislation passed, the sooner he could spend time with Charlotte and not have to rely on mere visions of her created from his memory.
With this thought motivating him, he quickly finished the changes to his speech. After instructing Stevens to make a fresh copy, he headed upstairs to bathe and prepare for the evening.
Chapter Sixteen
Since sending her last note, Charlotte still hadn’t received any communication from William, which didn’t entirely surprise her, since in that time she’d scarcely seen her brother either. Parliament was still locked in debate over a spate of new tax proposals to fund the war debt. Phillip left the house each morning by nine o’clock, and didn’t return until
after she’d retired for the night. That meant her only chance to talk with him was over breakfast. Or rather, because he disliked conversing while he ate, in those few minutes after he’d finished eating, but before he hurried out of the house. Admittedly, she was more interested in news of William than news of the parliamentary sessions, but the two were so inextricably tied, that news of one was news of the other.
According to Phillip, the Whigs and the Tories were slowly coming to a consensus, but apparently this involved a great deal of committee meetings during the day to draft legislative proposals, which were then debated in the evenings, resulting in more drafts and more debates as they tried to find a solution both parties would support.
When she asked how much longer he thought it would be until the matter was finally settled, he just shook his head and said, “Beats me. Soon, I hope. But with all the time wasted by idiots posturing and strutting about the floor of the chamber with nothing of value to add to the debate… Good gad, Charlotte, it’s enough to make a Quaker want to knock a few heads together.”
“That bad, is it?” she teased.
“Worse,” he said, shaking his head as he buckled the clasp of the leather satchel he used to carry papers.
“What does William think of the proceedings?”
“Norwood is in his element. You should see him, Charlotte. When he takes the floor, people mostly pipe down and listen to what he has to say, so naturally Liverpool relies on him to make the case for the Tory position. Slowly, but surely, he’s rallying the moderate Whigs to the Tory side.”
Not the Kind of Earl You Marry Page 22