Page 2 of A Perfect Engagement
“The Marquess of Hawksridge at your service.” His hand went up as if to tip his hat, only to find it missing. He smiled again. “It seems we have both lost our hats, miss.”
She gazed up at his handsome face, and she knew, just as she always thought she would, she had finally found her hero.
Chapter One
May 7, 1824
“And that’s howwe met.” Charlotte leaned back in her chair and chuckled softly at her friends’ astonished expressions. The low chatter of the other patrons in the tearoom buzzed around them. Charlotte loved the familiar warm atmosphere of her local tea shop in Little Marbury. The town nearest to her parents’ estate sat right in the middle of Hertfordshire. Beautiful and green, she preferred the countryside of her home county over the London townhouse her father kept. She picked up a warm scone and took a bite as she waited for her surprise announcement to sink in. Her friend, Susanna, was the first to recover.
“That is the most romantic thing I have ever heard!” she exclaimed. “I cannot believe I missed all the excitement.”
“If you hadn’t misbehaved in such a grand fashion, you wouldn’t have been sent home early. Leaving me to face the ballrooms all alone, I might add,” Charlotte scolded, still a bit upset with her friend.
Susanna had been caught racing on Rotten Row. One morning, two months ago, they had been walking their horses in the park and came across one of the many impromptu races which happened along Hyde Park’s infamous King’s Road. At the starting whistle, Susanna surprised everyone by jumping into the race. Skirts and cape flying, she and her magnificent horse had outpaced the four other racers with ease.
Susanna’s companion, Lucy, and Charlotte sat in shock atop their horses while Susanna received congratulations and compliments on her horse from the other racers. Of course, the shocked expressions of the onlookers turned quickly to feverishly whispered disapproval. Word had already reached Susanna’s parents by the time she returned home. Her parents promptly banished her back to Marbury.
Susanna grimaced. “I let the thrill of competition overrule my good sense. And another perfectly good companion, fired. But that is in the past. We were speaking of your engagement.” She propped her chin on one hand.
Eleanor Spencer gave Susanna a disapproving frown before turning her violet eyes back to Charlotte. “Congratulations. But isn’t this a bit hasty? How long have you known Lord Hawksridge?”
Charlotte wasn’t surprised Eleanor would have concerns. She was the very best of friends, and as such, she tended to be a bit overprotective. Charlotte always felt guilty talking about her months in London while her friend was never permitted to visit the city. Eleanor’s father, the local vicar, did not approve of young women “traipsing off” to London to flirt and dance. Charlotte believed a larger part of his disapproval had to do with his lack of funds to support a season for his daughter.
“Oh, I know it happened quickly. But my mother is right; we make a smart match. Hawksridge and I will get to know each other better after we are married. But I can already tell he is kind, decent, and handsome. Look how fate intervened to bring us together. He saved my life, which has to be a sign.”
Susanna sighed. “It is very romantic. Tell us how he proposed. Have you kissed him? What does he look like?”
“He is very tall, not lanky but solid. He has sandy-blond hair and warm brown eyes.” Both ladies nodded their heads approvingly. “He escorted us to the opera one night, and he has his own box on the second level. He took me on a ride through the park in his carriage twice. Then he came and spoke with Father shortly after. When he asked me to marry him, he was quite gallant. Taking my hand in his, he earnestly told me all the reasons we make a good match. It was…endearing.”
“But did he kiss you?!” Susanna asked her voice echoed far too loudly in the small shop. The patrons at the tables nearby gave them disapproving glances.
“Susanna!” Eleanor hissed.
Charlotte flushed. He had not, in fact, kissed her, but his hand had been warm and strong. He stood so tall and was so very…male. She’d felt very safe standing next to him, like he could keep dragons at bay if need be. Or perhaps just one dragon-like mother.
“He did not kiss me,” she admitted. “But we stood very close, and he smelled splendid, like sandalwood.”
Her friends looked unimpressed. In all the Gothic novels they were such fans of, the heroine always felt something deep in her soul right away for the hero. But this was not a romantic novel. Charlotte had agreed to the marriage because it was a sensible response. Hawksridge was a marquess, young, good-looking, and she could hardly do better. Her parents were over the moon by the match. Plus, he had kind eyes.
She smiled at Ellie and Susanna, and placing a hand to her stomach, she told a small fib. “That fluttery feeling I felt in my belly when he is near has got to be a good sign, right? That’s how you should feel?”
Susanna nodded. “It’s a good sign. I have felt that flutter many a time dancing with a fine-looking gentleman.” She took a sip of her tea.
“Eleanor, tell us about what has been happening here this spring. I know Susanna hasn’t heard any good gossip since she has been locked away in her tower.”
Next to her, Susanna guffawed. But the laughter didn’t reach her eyes, and Charlotte regretted her joke. Despite Susanna’s good humor, her friend was desperately unhappy being stuck at home. Her parents had only let her come to the tearoom today because they approved of her friendship with Eleanor. They hoped the vicar’s daughter would be a good influence.
“Nothing.” Eleanor sighed. “Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary, as usual.” Then she leaned forward quite suddenly. “Oh, except we have a new mysterious resident in town. In fact, I see her across the room, over by the window. Nobody knows who she is. She lives alone in the cottage which used to belong to the Greenwoods.”
Charlotte looked causally to her right. A lady sat by herself reading a book. The sunlight filtering in through the window highlighted her raven hair and olive skin. She wore a dress of deep purple and a matching hat.
“I know who she is,” Susanna piped up. “Her name is Mrs. Kingsley.”
“Of course you know who she is. Honestly Susanna, how do you always manage to know everything about everyone?” Eleanor shook her head in disbelief.
“She traveled from Italy with my aunt Margaret three weeks ago. I overheard Aunt Margaret tell my mother Mrs. Kingsley was in desperate need of a way off the continent. But then they noticed I was listening, and they ceased discussing her.”
“I think she looks rather lonely. Perhaps your aunt can arrange an introduction.”
