Page 49 of The Good Fortune of Miss Robbins

Her expression brightened when he said Miss Rutledge wouldn’t be there. Did that mean she was jealous of Rose Rutledge?

Not necessarily. He knew Miss Rutledge hadn’t been very kind to her. Charlotte was probably just relieved that she wouldn’t have to see the person who had been so unfriendly to her.

They walked along in silence, even though there were so many things he wanted to say and ask. Had she been enjoying being able to be mistress of her own home in London? Were there places in London she’d like to visit, places he could show her? How did it feel to have her own fortune?

When she’d arrived at Lowndesbury House, she’d been so kind, so forthright and artless, so unafraid to say what she really thought. Would the fortune change her? Did she feel differently about him now?

Mrs. Drake began to talk of balls she’d attended as a young lady. It was the kind of inane chatter he’d endured many times before, the kind he could easily ignore. Charlotte merely stared straight ahead, occasionally glancing at her chaperone to nod and smile. Mrs. Drake dropped names of many important people she’d met or with whose sons she’d danced. Miss Robbins didn’t speak, and he imagined she wasn’t even listening, as there was frequently a faraway look on her face, and she glanced at him once or twice.

They arrived at the park where he tried to steer them away from people as much as possible. But inevitably someone recognized him. The mother of the marriageable Miss Martindale, whose father had been a close acquaintance of his father, approached them. Unfortunately, she seemed set on him noticing her daughter, as they had both called on him multiple times. Fortunately, he’d been away from home each time, and they’d invited him to dine at their home, an invitation he’d been able to decline all but once. It had been an uncomfortable evening of rather obvious insinuations and hopes.

“Lord Brookhaven,” Mrs. Martindale cried out in delighted tones.

“Mrs. Martindale. You are looking well.”

“Say nothing of me, although I have been rather well. You are the picture of health, I must say. And you remember my daughter, Miss Elizabeth Martindale.”

“Of course. Pleased to see you again, Miss Martindale.”

The young lady bridled and smirked, while her mother stared pointedly at Charlotte.

“I’d heard you might be giving a ball while you were in town, but I have never known you to give a ball.” Mrs. Martindale patted his arm with her fan as if they were old friends.

He supposed he couldn’t not invite her now without giving offense, even though it was in poor taste and bad manners for her to practically invite herself.

“I shall send you an invitation.”

Her face lit up. “Then it is true! A ball given by the Earl of Brookhaven. Delightful, indeed.”

She was deliberately excluding Miss Robbins, who looked as if she was about to walk away.

“Mrs. Martindale, this is Miss Charlotte Robbins and her companion, Mrs. Drake. Miss Robbins and Mrs. Drake, this is Mrs. Edward Martindale and her daughter, Miss Elizabeth Martindale.”

Charlotte smiled and nodded politely. “Very pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Mrs. Martindale stared. “And how do you know Lord Brookhaven, my dear?”

“I was in his employ at Lowndesbury House, as the governess for his brother and sister.”

Mrs. Martindale actually leaned away from Charlotte and laid a hand over her chest. “The governess. Oh, I see.” A look of horror came over her face, as if she were witnessing a crime being committed right in front of her.

“Miss Robbins recently inherited a large fortune from her uncle,” he was quick to say.

“A fortune, did she?” Mrs. Martindale mumbled.

Charlotte’s look was defiant, so Mrs. Drake rushed to intercede.

“Miss Robbins had an uncle, whom she hadn’t known, who left her fifty thousand pounds.” She whispered the last part, as if whispering made it more genteel and appropriate to tell the exact sum.

“Oh.” Mrs. Martindale raised her brows, as if Charlotte had done something to admire.

“Yes, and now I am rich enough to buy my way into society.” There was a feisty smirk on Charlotte’s face.

Mrs. Martindale’s eyelids fluttered and she started fanning herself, frowning ferociously at Charlotte, who looked amused.

He couldn’t help smiling at Charlotte’s pluck and vinegar. But would that same pluck and vinegar gain her friends? Or enemies? It was too soon to tell.

After that exchange, they kept meeting more people, and he couldn’t converse with Charlotte as they had at Lowndesbury House. He could feel his frustration rising with the heat in his forehead.