Georgie smiled at the question. “At the beginning? Awkward.”
Charlotte scoffed and allowed herself a droll look at her friend. “Fair enough, I think we can say I have felt awkward.”
“One usually does.” Georgie’s smile turned wistful, her eyes taking on a far-off look. “Then you find yourself comfortable, but with an excited edge that doesn’t quite make sense.”
“That would describe what I feel right now,” Charlotte told her with a nod. “I could talk with him for ages, and yet I seem to fidget constantly.”
Georgie snickered, bouncing her son again. “It’s the anticipation, isn’t it? Wondering if something will happen, wanting it to and yet not wanting it to…”
Charlotte nodded over and over, then huffed to herself. “Maddening stuff. Tell me it gets better.”
“I am so sorry, it doesn’t.” Georgie made a face, shaking her head. “Things only get more complicated.”
“Lovely. I see I have much to look forward to.” She plastered a false smile on her face that made Georgie laugh. Charlotte groaned and put a hand to her brow. “Why did I want this again?”
“Because we have been led to believe that love is the most enviable of all things,” Georgie answered simply, “and it is. It is also rare and unusual, and there is something to be said for those people who claim a marriage of convenience is a far easier matter.”
“Is there?”
Georgie nodded. “Yes. It’s true. That would be easier.”
Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “But…?”
“But a love match is so very satisfying,” Georgie admitted with an almost dreamy smile. “So lovely. So enjoyable. And complicated though it is, I cannot think my happiness could be any more than this if I had married for other reasons.”
“I want that ease and happiness,” Charlotte confessed. “I want it so much.”
“I know, dear.” Georgie smiled as she hugged her son to her. “You do like Mr. Riley, don’t you? I’d hate to think that you were trying to force your emotions to fit into a mold of love rather than let it grow naturally.”
Charlotte nodded quickly. “Of course I like Mr. Riley. I do not see how anyone could not like Mr. Riley. He is handsome, charming, and excellent company. I’ve never had a better dance partner, and he seems to only get more interesting the more I get to know him.”
Georgie grinned at her, setting Thomas back on the ground when he fussed. “Charlotte! That is wonderful to hear! And certainly a very promising start.”
“Do you think so?” Charlotte rubbed her hands together in more of an anxious habit than a speculative one. “I want to smile whenever I see him, Georgie. I don’t always do so, but I want to. My lips simply want to smile when he is near. But he’s not said anything about courtship or affection to me. Do you think that is a sign?”
“No, I think it is perfectly right,” Georgie assured her. “Mr. Riley does not need to be proposing from the first moment he meets you and continuously until you accept.”
Charlotte snickered at the idea of Mr. Riley doing something so ridiculous, like one of the dandies of London. “I cannot see him doing any such thing. Going to his knees and dramatically asking for my hand or begging me to be his wife. He’s got far too much taste and sense for any such thing.”
Her friend dipped her chin in a knowing nod. “You see? You have grown so accustomed to receiving proposals from any man who has spent three minutes in your company that you cannot recognize the genuine attentions of a gentleman worth considering. Once you are both more sure of your feelings, you may be surprised by the speed at which things happen, but there is no set timeline, Charlotte. You must do away with the idea that there is some sort of deadline to love or courtship. It will not be any less sweet if Mr. Riley should propose next spring if it means that he is convinced you are the perfect choice for him.”
Charlotte’s cheeks heated at the idea of Mr. Riley feeling so much for her. They had seen each other almost every day, but she couldn’t say it had been for an excessive amount of time. He was always very cognizant and aware of the time he spent at her home during calling hours, and whenever they met in the park on a walk, which seemed to happen more regularly, he took great care that a respectable amount of time be spent together, and did not overextend it.
It all sounded very polite when she thought of it in such terms, but she would not have called Mr. Riley a particularly polite man. He was never rude, of course, and would never come close to earning such an insult, but he did have a bit of a wicked sense of humor that rendered him just amusing enough to keep around, for the surprise, if nothing else. When he and Charlotte had spent too much time together, they were quite the amusing pair. No one else would be able to attest to any such thing, as they hadn’t been out in public much, but they soon would be. What might they become with even more exposure to each other?
Charlotte sighed as she thought of him, smiling to herself.
“What is that smile for?” Georgie demanded.
“I’m simply smiling!” Charlotte insisted, tucking her thoughts of Mr. Riley into the deepest recesses of her heart.
“And the sigh?”
Charlotte quirked a brow. “An exhale with audible aspects. Nothing more.”
Georgie’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you. You are hiding something, and I insist that you tell me what it is.”
“All right, Miranda,” Charlotte replied pointedly.
Georgie gasped dramatically, then burst out laughing. “Oh, very well, I’ll leave off teasing you and prying. I’m only hopeful and encouraged where Mr. Riley is concerned. Is that too much?”
“Not at all,” Charlotte assured her. “You are a true friend, and I am anxious for him to meet you, to meet all of the Spinsters, so that you might all like him as well.”
“I already like him,” Georgie laughed. “The moment you find it acceptable, I’ll invite him here for supper. I think he and Tony might find a friend in each other, and it would do well for Tony to have other friends than Morton or Hensh.”
Charlotte grinned mischievously. “Why does he need to spend less time with Hensh?”
“He doesn’t. Only Hensh seems determined to spend all of his time with the Mortons, and Tony feels quite left out.”
“Hensh has a plan, and he is determined to see it through.” Charlotte smirked to herself. “Good man. I’ll have to do more to enhance my chances of winning. New tactics, and greater effort.”
Georgie frowned. “Winning what? What tactics? What have you and Hensh done?”
Charlotte only smiled all the more cheekily. “Never you mind. What are your thoughts on chaperoning me to the theater this week?”
Chapter Fifteen
Behavior at the theater ought to be studied with more focus and interest. This author could tell all sorts of tales from observation alone, but why risk the ruination of so many?
-The Spinster Chronicles, 16 July 1817
“Are you certain we may use the box? It is no trouble to me to sit in the general seats, you know. I am quite used to such things.”
Michael smiled down at Diana for at least the fifth time that evening. “I am quite certain, Miss Palmer. I have had many assurances that it will not be occupied tonight, and that all will be available for our use. What else can I do to put you at ease?”
Diana blushed in her pretty way, her smile only heightening her beauty. “I am perfectly at ease, I assure you. I am only excitable and so delighted to be at the theater.” More color rushed into her cheeks and she lowered her eyes. “With you.”
The sweetness of her words filled his lungs, could have given him wings, would have spurred him to run extreme distances for the promise of her smile. It was a strange sensation, and certainly the first time he had experienced it from her hand, but there was also a thrilling sense of victory in it.
He had done it. He had found a woman who made him happy, who made him feel things, who saw him for the man he was and enjoyed being in his company. He could c
ome to love Diana Palmer, and it would not take too much effort at all.
What an astonishing thought… and a sobering one.
He’d need to start thinking matrimony and details before too long. That would require several meetings, but it should be fairly straightforward, all things considered.
But first, there would need to be courtship.
He smiled at Diana, though her eyes were still cast down. “I’m rather pleased to be here with you, as well,” he told her in all sincerity.
Her nearly amber eyes rose to his, an innocent light glowing there.
Michael nodded in encouragement, then smiled. “I feel rather fortunate, actually, to have such a vision of loveliness on my arm.”
The flattery made her laugh, and she averted her eyes again, though no one would have denied Michael’s words.
Diana had dressed herself in pale green silks, which gave her eyes a more magical hue, and the cut, fit, and styling of the gown, none of which Michael understood, seemed to heighten her figure magnificently. Her golden hair had been curled and plaited, ribbons and flowers darting here and there in the fair tresses. She was a complete vision, and he defied any man in this theater to find her anything less than stunning.
“You are lovely, Diana,” Mrs. Greensley insisted behind them. “Come, come, you must accept your due praise.”
“Please, cousin,” Diana pleaded with a smile. “Mr. Greensley, will you not give a word of sense?”
Greensley, accompanying his wife to the theater on chaperoning duties, shook his head. “Afraid not, Diana. You outshine all ladies here save one.”
“I’ll accept that!” Diana said with a quick laugh. “Who supersedes me?”
“My wife, naturally,” Greensley replied without hesitation as he smiled at the woman beside him.
Mrs. Greensley gave him a playful look, then shook her head. “Chivalry, but no sense. Alas for Mr. Greensley.”
Michael chuckled and continued on their promenade in the theater, the pressure of Diana’s hand on his arm a strength and a comfort, though he hadn’t realized he needed either.
Being with Diana was certainly a revelation in more ways than one.
Their small group walked on, all smiling and nodding at other guests milling about with them. Michael was pleased to note how many of those nodding at him he could actually name. He had grown so used to only keeping track of names as they affected Charlotte, keeping stock of each of her would-be suitors, no matter how unlikely, that any individuals that might have impacted him in some way had been completely ignored. Now, however, he was only meeting people for his own interests, and the sheer volume of names had taken some getting used to.
What a relief to know he was equally capable of managing his own social connections.
“I believe we should come to our box shortly,” Michael assured the others. “I trust you will be quite pleased with the view of the stage. I do not think there is a single seat in the box that will be a poor one, and we are assured of enjoying the performances.”
“I will confess to not knowing much of opera,” Mr. Greensley said to no one in particular, “but the reviews of this one are most encouraging. Very entertaining, this.”
Mrs. Greensley laughed at her husband’s words. “Well, it is an opéra comique, my dear, so one would hope it would entertain.”
“I always marvel at the talents of opera singers,” Diana commented before the thread could continue. “All ladies are expected to have some ability to sing, and some are better than others, but what would it be like to have a voice of this brilliance!”
“Rather busy, I would think,” Michael replied with a quirk of a smile. “You’d likely be asked to sing at every gathering you attended, even if there was no other music planned. Mothers of daughters would ply you with questions about your training in the hopes that their daughters might somehow follow the same course. Ears of music lovers would strain for your voice, knees weakening as they neared your presence, and all would fall before your feet.”
Diana stared at him, eyes wide, then her lips moved into a soft smile. “You’re right. That does sound busy. I think I’ll keep to my middling voice after all.”
Michael laughed at the quip, as he tended to do whenever Diana’s wit was on display. She kept that skill rather private, which allowed one to appreciate it all the more when it did appear, but what a brilliant wit it was! Perhaps that was due to her quieter nature, perhaps it was that beauty and wit were such a rare combination, or perhaps it was that he did not expect any woman outside of Charlotte’s circle to possess much by way of wit.
Whatever it was, the pleasure of once more having female wit in his company was a true delight.
“Ah, here we are.”
Michael stopped cold as the voice he knew well said the exact words he had been preparing, and his eyes blinked twice before he could believe the sight before him.
Charlotte stood there, her hand in Mr. Riley’s arm, Tony and Georgie Sterling behind them.
At the same box they were preparing to enter.
Which, all told, was not surprising, as it was the Wright family’s usual box.
But Michael had received permission from Mr. Wright to make use of the box tonight. Had the man forgotten his own daughter was going to use it? Yes, they had fit a number of people into the large box before, but this…
“What are you doing here?” Charlotte asked without any politeness, apparently not noticing any of the others.
“Your father gave me use of the box,” he told her without any defensive airs, which was a feat in and of itself. “He assured me it would not be in use.”
Charlotte’s expression did not change, but he caught a flash of a wrinkle in her brow that belied her calm. “Clearly, my father needs to speak with my mother at more regular intervals. She granted me use of the box this evening.”
Michael grit his teeth, praying he could keep his composure intact in the presence of Diana and the Greensleys. “Well, we certainly don’t wish to impose…”
“Not at all,” Charlotte said quickly, looking at the group finally and smiling at them all. “There is plenty of room, and I’ve had larger parties than this in our box without the slightest bit of discomfort.” She gestured towards the box, her expression all benevolence and generosity now. Her eyes fixed on Diana, and her smile widened. “Miss Palmer, I am so pleased to see you again.”
As Michael feared, Diana beamed in return. “You as well, Miss Wright. I had no idea we’d be using your family’s box. Is this where you sat when you imagined the article about secret behaviors at the opera? It is one of my favorite pieces.”
Charlotte cocked her head with a bemused smile. “How did you know I wrote that one, my dear? I know Michael couldn’t have told you, I never give him advanced insight into my articles.”
Diana blushed and bit her lip. “I have made a study of the articles. I can usually tell which of the Spinsters has written which thing.”
“Can you, indeed?” Mr. Riley said with a laugh. “Miss Palmer, you will have to enlighten me. I’ve never been able to properly identify the authors, though I confess to not knowing the identities as it is.”
“Miss Palmer,” Charlotte broke in quickly, “may I present Mr. and Mrs. Sterling? Mrs. Sterling is also one of the writers.”
Diana all but squealed. “Oh, Mrs. Sterling, what a delight! I’m honored to meet you.”
Georgie smiled with her usual kindness, though there was also amusement in her features. “Miss Palmer, I’ve heard much about you, but none of it measures up to the reality. What a pleasure. Shall we take our seats?”
Michael could have kissed Georgie in gratitude for suggesting it. Chatting about the Spinsters in Charlotte’s presence while standing outside of the box at the theater was not something he was enjoying, and the sooner they could return to his previous designs of wooing Diana the better.
Having Charlotte about only heightened his resolve to begin his courtship in truth. He’d speak to Greensley
tonight and call on him in the morning. The only reason he had not done so following Lord Eden’s ball was due to a foolhardy night spent in a club consuming more alcohol than a man was designed to hold, then spending the following days in bed sicker than a dog. Were it not for Hugh Sterling, Michael might have had a spot of trouble there, but he had been well tended.
Stupid, but at least cared for.
He wouldn’t wait any longer. Tomorrow, he would take the first step.
The four couples entered the box and began rearranging their seats accordingly, faint shuffling as they tried to find the best arrangements, the murmur of the other theater guests adding a layer of sound above that of the orchestra near the stage as they played the overture of the opera.
Michael tried his best to smile, to be congenial, to pretend as though his entire evening hadn’t been completely upended with one simple misunderstanding. But the truth of the matter was that he was perfectly and acutely aware of every move Charlotte made. Her exact distance from him, every breath she took, the smiles that crossed her face as she settled herself.
He couldn’t bloody recall what Diana was wearing unless he looked at her, because in his mind, he could only see Charlotte.
Dressed in white, she was fully angelic, porcelain in almost every respect. The bodice of her dress was wreathed in pink cords and lace, a pattern of leaves on the fabric itself. Folds and ripples there streamed into the length of the gown, reappearing with the cords and lace again at the hem, more folded pink material waving in a pattern he could have studied for hours in sheer fascination. Flounces, he thought, though he didn’t dare look back to confirm. The sleeves were small, which matched the low bodice, though he couldn’t deny the perfection both captured in Charlotte.
Curls had cupped either side of her face, while the rest of her hair seemed to be almost haphazardly curled and fastened up with combs he had never seen her wear, long ringlets streaming from the crown of her head, yet never quite made it to her neck. She wore a head-dress and flowers, too, though all he could think of were those long curls draping behind.
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