by Sara Reinke
* * * *
“I should hardly think at your age, Charlotte, you need reminding that to disappear in an unfamiliar young man’s company for the whole of an afternoon simply is not proper,” Lady Epping scolded.
“He is not unfamiliar, Mother,” Charlotte said, rolling her eyes. “Reilly has known him for years. It was more of a mutual sort of re-acquaintance than anything.”
They were in the carriage, on the road for Darton Hall once more. Lady Epping’s diatribe had begun nearly ten minutes earlier, continuing full-force and unabated with scarcely a pause for breath. Charlotte hunched her shoulders and wished she could simply shrivel.
“And we were touring the garden,” she said. “Hardly a disappearance.”
“For nearly four hours?” Lady Epping exclaimed, her voice ripping to shrill, outraged levels.
“You should have heard the whispering,” Lady Chelmsford said. “I have not heard the sort since Lady Bickensworth took a steward around to the carriage house at Wentforth Folly Hall last season and was discovered by her lord!”
“We were talking,” Charlotte said, her brows narrowing slightly. “That is all, Mother, no matter what rumors suggest to the contrary. We were enjoying friendly conversation and lost track of time. Surely you know me well enough to realize I would not consent to some tawdry midafternoon tryst.”
Lady Epping glared at her. “Well, here is the end of your friendly conversations, then,” she said. “At least with that man.”
“He has a name, Mother,” Charlotte said. “Not to mention a proper title. I thought that appealed to you.”
Lady Epping jabbed her forefinger at Charlotte. “Do not take that indignant tone with me,” she said. “You do not dare, Charlotte, not after the humiliating afternoon you have subjected me to. You will not see him again. You will not even exchange passing greetings with him among a crowd of hundreds. He is a rotten cad from undesirable stock, title or not, and you will give him a broad berth.”
“Mother…” Reilly began.
“And poor Lord Roding forced to politely bear it all,” Lady Epping continued, ignoring Reilly completely. “You distressed him terribly, Charlotte, worrying him so as to your whereabouts and any harm that might come upon you because of―”
“Audrey,” Lord Epping said, bringing his wife to a startled, breathless silence. Lord Epping seldom if ever addressed her by her given name. “I imagine that social occasions such as today’s must be very difficult for Lord Theydon, given his father’s repute. I am sure that it requires a great amount of courage for him to walk among his noble peers again, bearing this in mind. I doubt I could muster such mettle if I was in his position. I would think that the lad surely appreciated Charlotte’s efforts at courtesy and friendship.”
Lady Epping blinked at him for a moment. “Whatever the circumstances, it remains that it was highly improper to—”
“Charlotte has acknowledged this, and apologized besides,” Lord Epping told her.
“But I—” Lady Epping began.
“No harm has come of anything,” Lord Epping said, and he frowned. “Let the girl be.”