“Ah,” he mused, returning his attention to their path and the beauty of the morning around them. “Well, in the interest of fairness, we are not walking the whole of it this morning, either. We are simply walking.”
“But walking with you is far more enjoyable than walking with my cousin,” Diana insisted with a sweet frankness.
“I heard that,” Mrs. Greensley called from behind them.
Michael and Diana both chuckled at that, then Diana turned to call back, “You must allow me to prefer his company to yours, Jane. They are hardly comparable.”
“But I think my pace is better,” Mrs. Greensley suggested with a light laugh.
“Haste is frowned upon in a courtship,” Michael informed them both, bringing more laughter from both. “I’ve taken the guidance quite literally.”
Diana put her free hand atop his arm, though she already had the other looped through it. “I find this pace rather perfect. And what a lovely day to be walking here! I’ve only seen the Serpentine from a distance, so I had no idea it was the size it is!”
“It’s hardly as impressive as some of the bodies of water in the countryside,” he assured her, “but for London, it is a lovely sight.”
“What is your country estate like?” Diana asked, her voice taking on a note of longing.
Michael smiled at the question. “Do you prefer the country to London, Miss Palmer?”
Her cheeks colored as she smiled. “I find I do, though London certainly has diversions enough. The sedate pace of the country, the simpler manners, and the generosity of time and energies by people of all stations are too fine a temptation to completely resist.”
The simplicity of the statement struck a chord within him, and he found a poignant truth in it.
“Yes,” he murmured, nodding to himself. “I never feel so accomplished or satisfied with my day as when I have exerted efforts on my estate. London is for entertainment, but the country is for contentment.”
“Is your family on the estate? Or are they somewhere else?” Diana pressed.
He smiled fondly. “No, they are all there. My father passed a few years ago, but my mother, my sisters, and my brother, when he is not at school, are all at Crestor Grove.”
Diana hummed in thought. “Are your sisters out? Surely one of them must be.”
“Eliza has been to London for two Seasons,” he told her. “I offered to bring her with me this year, but she declined. I think she may come next Season, though.”
“Unless she is sweet on a young man at home,” Diana pointed out in a light, teasing tone.
Michael scoffed, shaking his head. “Oh, I doubt that very much.”
“Why?” she demanded. “Would she tell you if she were? Are there no young men she could grow fond of?”
He paused in the act of rebuttal, thinking quickly.
No, actually. No, she wouldn’t tell him, and there did happen to be young men around Crestor Grove that certainly could have attracted her attention.
He wasn’t prepared to think about that.
“Oxfordshire is a beautiful county,” he said quickly, desperate to change the subject and not caring how obvious it would be.
Diana laughed merrily beside him, and he had to smile at the comfort in the sound. “Is it? I know nothing of it.”
“Yes,” Michael confirmed, lifting his chin proudly. “In fact…”
He broke off as a phaeton approached ahead of them, and he gently guided Diana aside to allow them to pass, Mrs. Greensley following close behind.
He reached for the brim of his hat, preparing to greet the passersby with all politeness, but froze in the process.
The startled, dark eyes of Charlotte Wright clashed with his.
The phaeton pulled to a stop, and it was all Michael could do to refrain from howling for it to continue to move on.
“This is a pleasant surprise!” Mr. Riley exclaimed, grinning madly down at them all and inclining his head. “What a fine company of walkers you all make.”
Diana, possessing none of the bias and more of the kindness than Michael had, returned the smile. “And what a lovely team of horses, Mr. Riley! I am quite envious.”
“Are you a horsewoman, Miss Palmer?” He chuckled and gestured to them. “If you are, please, feel free to touch them. The one nearest you is Annie, she’ll purr like a kitten. The other is Bonnie, and she’s more judgmental.”
To Michael’s surprise, Diana moved to the horses and began to rub their noses, speaking softly. Then she smiled up at the phaeton passengers. “Good morning, Miss Wright. I do hope you don’t mind the delay in your ride.”
“Not at all,” Charlotte assured her with a genuine smile that shocked Michael further. “I have little enough appreciation of horses myself, but it is clear you have a way with them. You should be a country woman, Miss Palmer.”
“I intend to,” Diana quipped, her eyes darting to Michael almost hesitantly before returning to the horses. “Mr. Sandford and I were just talking about the country, as it happens.”
Mr. Riley gave Michael an interested look then. “Really, Sandford? Are you a man of the countryside?”
“I believe so,” Michael replied, forcing his tone to remain even for the man who had no idea how or why Michael disliked him. “I grow fonder of my estate day by day, and it may surprise people how deeply I love it. I’ve spent so long in London, they’d never know. I think I may stop pretending that I don’t love being there and start keeping myself in the place I am happiest.”
“What?” Charlotte’s voice broke through his fervent avowal and drew his attention back to her. “I didn’t know that. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Michael met her eyes squarely, his throat tightening with the memories of the heat and sweetness her lips had held. “It never seemed the time. But it is so.”
Her expression shuttered, and her lips formed a tight line. No one seeing her would think anything amiss, but Michael saw the discomfiture before she could clear it.
Then her face became shockingly blank, and he knew nothing about what lay beneath. “Jonathan doesn’t have much experience in the country,” Charlotte announced with a playfully sad note to her voice, snaking her hand around his arm and smiling at Mr. Riley. “He comes from the mill towns of the north.”
Mr. Riley shrugged, smiling as he released a heavy sigh. “Alas, I will never know the thrill of the hunt, and all else that a gentleman does when in the country, the details of which completely escape me.” He winked at Charlotte, then looked at Michael. “I am quite envious, Sandford. It sounds idyllic, I will confess.”
“It is,” Michael responded shortly, his smile strained. “But I imagine you find great satisfaction in your work where you are. Perhaps our paths are ours for a purpose.”
“Amen to that, sir.” Mr. Riley nodded in approval, genuine enjoyment appearing on his features. “I fear I would not last more than a few days in the country before I would yearn for the sounds of the mills.”
The discrepancy in tastes made Michael’s smile more easy, full of irony though it was. “And I would be fascinated by the mills, but within days, long for the pastures and farms.”
“Yet the world spins for us both,” Riley added, picking up his reins. “And, no doubt, is better for our different spheres.”
“One can hope,” Michael murmured.
Riley prepared to snap the reins, then paused, looking down at them again. “Do you all plan to attend the dinner party at Ingrams’ tomorrow?”
“Yes,” Diana replied before Michael could offer his own reply. “I’m so delighted to have been invited!”
“She’s looking forward to meeting you, Miss Palmer,” Charlotte told her, still smiling.
It would appear Michael would be going as well, though he hadn’t intended on it purely to avoid Charlotte.
“Then it appears we will be seeing each other there.” Riley tapped the brim of his hat to the group, smile growing as he did so. “Excellent. I’m a terrible bore at parties, so alli
es are much appreciated.” With a flick of the reins, his horses moved on, pulling the tidy phaeton behind them.
Michael watched them go, wondering if he might be sick shortly.
“What a striking couple!” Diana said with an almost disbelieving shake of her head, her bonnet ribbons swaying against her as she did so.
“Yes,” Michael muttered, thinking striking was an excellent choice of word.
He rather did feel struck when he saw them together.
He did not care for that at all.
“Shall we continue, Miss Palmer?” he offered, gesturing back to the path. “I think you’ll enjoy the paths coming up.”
“Hensh, I may be ill.”
“What? Why?”
Charlotte swallowed, shaking her head.
“Erm… please don’t?”
She forced herself to exhale slowly, her hands laying almost feebly against her stomach as she and Hensh surveyed the room. “I may not have much control over such things,” she admitted weakly.
“I find that hard to believe,” he protested in a boastful tone. “You control all things. Command your body to be well, and to cease such abuse.”
Charlotte managed a weak laugh. “If only I could.”
Hensh turned to her, his expression furrowed. “What’s the trouble, Charlotte?”
“I cannot say,” she whispered, heat flooding her cheeks. “I’m afraid…”
“Of what?” Hensh pressed. “The Ingrams are hosting creditably, your beau will arrive shortly, and you are not expected to do or say anything. What are you afraid of?”
Charlotte looked at him, eyes wide. “Michael will be coming. With Diana Palmer.”
Hensh raised a brow. “And what about that frightens you?”
“I don’t know how I feel about it,” Charlotte admitted, one of her hands pressed further against her stomach, the pressure oddly comforting. “Diana is a lovely girl, and she adores the Spinsters.”
“A sure sign of intelligence and taste, I must say.” Hensh smiled rather indulgently, nudging her side with familiarity.
Charlotte returned his smile weakly, the thing wavering as much as her knees presently were. “But Michael seems to focus on her especially when I am near. I do not know how their courtship proceeds in privacy, but at our last two meetings, he does his best to ignore me and devote all of his attention to her.”
Hensh blinked at her words, his brow creasing. “Have you inquired about this? Why he might appear to do this?”
There was no easy way to reply to the questions, given what had happened when she had made an accusation on the subject, but she could trust Hensh with private concerns, and sensitive manners.
“He said…” She bit her lip, the words nearly choking her before she could even speak them.
She couldn’t do this.
Couldn’t admit this.
Couldn’t say it.
“He doesn’t wish to discuss our courtships,” she told Hensh instead, finding small comfort in the fact that she was not lying about the situation. “At all. He told me we would still be friends, but I rather feel as though he’s changed his mind there.”
Hensh made a face, but he said nothing immediately.
Something about his hesitation made Charlotte curious, and she stared at him with more patience than she usually possessed.
That could have been the impending feeling of sickness, however.
“Well?” she finally prodded without any sharpness.
Hensh’s eyes flicked to hers before averting again. “I have a number of thoughts, Charlotte, but only one of them is supportable at the present.”
“And that is?”
He sniffed, staring ahead. “I don’t think Sandford knows how he feels, either. He’s courting Miss Palmer, and therefore cannot be seen with a preference for any other women. That likely includes you, as rumors and jealousy can create all sorts of controversy.”
Charlotte frowned, taking a sip of the lemonade she belatedly recalled still sat in her hand. “Miss Palmer doesn’t seem to be the envious sort…”
“Can you account for rumors?” Hensh shook his head, exhaling roughly. “And that may not even be the case. It may only be that he wishes to prove his loyalty to Miss Palmer. Sandford is an honorable man; do you think he means to behave maliciously, or is he simply foolhardy?”
Unless she wished to confess more than she was comfortable, there was only one answer she could give that was honest.
“Both,” she grunted, forcing herself to smile, though she did not feel the thing. “Michael’s a terrible boor when he’s not getting his way, particularly with me. I wonder if he isn’t trying to find his own match before I do. A competition, if you will.”
Hensh met her eyes now, merriment dancing in his eyes. “Now who would be idiotic enough to wager on a thing like matrimony?”
Charlotte’s smile became less forced in an instant. “I haven’t the faintest idea. How go your efforts?”
His mouth curved into a small smile, something rather sweet that Charlotte had never seen on him before. “Well enough.”
“Ah,” Charlotte mused, nudging him now. “Has she learned to pay you attention instead of the stage?”
“Who told you about that?” he demanded without irritation. He waved a hand quickly. “Never mind, it does not matter. The point is that she seems to be aware of my particular interest now.”
Charlotte beamed and gripped his arm, barely restraining a squeal. “Hensh! How is she taking it?”
His smile turned teasing then. “Do you know, Charlotte, I don’t think I want to discuss my courtship with you, either.” He winked and strode away, and it was only then that Charlotte noticed the Mortons entering, Miss Morton following behind in a pale pink muslin that rendered her luminous.
And she looked around the room in a very searching manner.
Apparently, Miss Morton was taking it very well, indeed.
Strangely enough, the attention shifting to Hensh and his situation had erased Charlotte’s ill feelings, and she now only wished for Jonathan to arrive so she might have someone besides the Spinsters to converse with. Hensh would be lost to her for the rest of the night, as he well should have been, and Grace was hostess. That left Izzy, though she would likely need to be chaperone for Kitty, Georgie, who was chatting with Miranda near a window, and Elinor, who had yet to arrive.
Miranda Sterling caught her eye and flicked her fingers in a beckoning gesture.
That settled that, then.
Charlotte moved across the room, grinning unreservedly at her friend and her stepmother-in-law, both of whom had chosen to wear shades of green this evening. Miranda’s was, of course, more elaborate and fine, yet Georgie’s was perfectly suited to her looks and timeless in its loveliness. Both of the Sterling women were visions of beauty, there was no question about that.
Luckily, Charlotte had no pangs of jealousy there, and could still feel that her dusky, red-striped satin bore enough elegance to render her sufficient attention.
“Lovely picture you present, my dear,” Miranda praised, holding out a hand. “Are those silk bands at the hem? Simply marvelous, and what a full skirt! Goodness, I shall request an identical one in gold tomorrow morning.”
Charlotte laughed and took the proffered seat beside Miranda. “You will undoubtedly wear it better than I, though I do recommend avoiding netting in the headdress.” She scratched at her own quickly, wrinkling her nose.
“Oh, don’t upset it!” Georgie pleaded. “It’s simply stunning. I rather like the netting of it.”
“Then you wear it, and may you have joy of it.” Charlotte sighed and snapped open her fan. “Has anybody seen Jonathan?”
“I wish I had, my dear,” Miranda said without shame. “Marvelously handsome, that man. Will you marry him?”
“Miranda!” Georgie cried, a gloved hand going to her cheek in embarrassment. “You don’t have to answer her, Charlotte.”
But Charlotte adored Miranda and her franknes
s, finding the whole approach to life and conversation rather refreshing. “Well, he hasn’t asked, Miranda, so I really cannot say. The point is irrelevant if the offer is not made.”
Miranda smiled knowingly, her eyes narrowing. “Charlotte, my dear, you could ensure that the offer is made by Wednesday, if you set your mind to it.”
“I take that as a compliment,” Charlotte quipped. “Though I have little desire to rush Jonathan. I’m rather enjoying courtship. Only last evening he came to family dinner, and we all of us were awake far into the early morning telling tales and laughing for ages. Then this morning, I come down to breakfast, and there were two more bouquets of flowers.”
“What a lovely gesture!” Miranda simpered. “Two bouquets for you? How charming!”
Charlotte grinned and shook her head. “No, Miranda. One bouquet for me, and one for my mother.”
Miranda and Georgie clapped in delight, making Charlotte laugh. “All the better! You must marry him, Charlotte. I wish it.”
“If he asks, I may,” Charlotte replied, still laughing.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Aubrey, Lord Ingram, intoned from somewhere in the room. “I’m delighted to provide you some entertainment before dinner, and more particularly for the surprise it will be to us all. At the request of Miss Palmer, Mr. Sandford will oblige the company with a song. My wife will accompany him. Please.”
Charlotte blinked as the other guests began filing over to a corner of the room, but she could not move. Her limbs had no strength, her frame no warmth.
Michael was here? And he was going to sing?
I only sing for you, dear.
The pianoforte struck up, Grace’s nimble fingers no doubt dancing along the keys, and, a moment later, Michael’s voice filled the area.
Memory after memory assaulted Charlotte’s mind the moment he began; vocal duets the two of them had attempted, playful ditties Michael had sung to break her out of sour moods or to make her laugh, relaxed days of hearing his voice across the room while she pretended to read…
Each one darkened and dimmed as his voice floated among the guests. Only she had ever truly known the power, sweetness, and delight of his voice before this, and he had claimed to have kept that gift for her alone. Now that was gone, the secret revealed, and nothing remained between them that was only theirs.
Spinster Ever After Page 20