Page 63 of A Perfect Engagement
“It was nice, I guess.” Charlotte shrugged. She didn’t know what to make of it.
“Nice. Hmmm. Nice is…a good start.”
Two older ladies passed by, and Charlotte and Olivia both nodded and smiled. Then they scooted their chairs farther back, so they sat all the way against the wall. Charlotte stared out at the mass of guests who filled the ballroom. Green appeared to be the color in vogue this year. Varying shades of the color in silks and satins dotted the room. She could see Hawksridge and Rivenhall had been waylaid by an older gentleman halfway across the room. The man’s bushy beard bounced as he spoke.
“I hoped perhaps if we kissed, it would banish Daniel Weston from my thoughts.” She lowered her voice so she wouldn’t be overheard. “Something to replace the memory of his kisses. But Miles’s kiss did not feel the same. Pleasant but not thrilling. And worse, I think Miles felt similarly unimpressed. Perhaps it’s me. I need to try harder next time.” She sighed. “You and Rivenhall seem to get along so famously. I hope Hawksridge and I can someday arrive at the same place.”
Olivia’s eyes flitted down. She grasped her hands together. “The truth is, Charlotte, I don’t know what’s thrilling and exciting about kissing either.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Sometimes, marriage is simply about security and friendship. Trust me; things could be far worse.”
“That is certainly true. I could be stuck living with my mother forever.” She pulled a face behind her fan.
Olivia nodded her head, solemnly. “I also needed to leave the house I grew up in. I couldn’t stay there a moment longer. Rivenhall saved me. He is my hero.”
Charlotte contemplated what her friend confessed. Perhaps she needed to lower her expectations. She and Hawksridge were just beginning their relationship. She would try harder next time. She owed it to him to give her best effort to become the perfect wife.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Papa, look atmy tree.” Josie held up the picture she had been working on. She sat on the floor in front of the low table by the settee.
“Very nice. You’ve done a lovely job with all the leaves,” Daniel replied. He didn’t know what he should say about the scribbles of a five-year-old, but Josie seemed satisfied by his comment, and she went back to work. The day was cloudy and chilly. He had lit a fire, and its cheery glow reflected on Josie’s bent head as she continued to draw. The gray skies suited his mood just fine these days.
The past three weeks had been hard. He missed Charlotte every day. He had twice almost gone to Markham House with the intent of storming the castle to steal her away. But each time his thoughts flew to the crazy scenario, he reminded himself she had made her choice. Daniel shuffled the papers on his desk. He had estate ledgers to tally, but his brain didn’t want to calculate the numbers today. Perhaps he should take Josie outside for a walk instead. Phoebe had a poor night’s sleep. He decided to keep Josie busy today so her mother could rest.
“Josie, would you like to go for a walk down to the pond? Take a look around for frogs?”
The little girl jumped to her feet. “Yes! Do you think we will see Wilhelmina or Sir Roger?”
“Perhaps,” Daniel said. Josie had taken to naming the frogs. She had names for about seven or eight frogs. Honestly, they could be the same two frogs jumping around the cattails for all he knew. Every time she saw one, she would scrunch up her little nose thoughtfully and declare, “He looks like a Gerald to me.” Or “She is definitely a Charlotte.” That one had made his heart ache a bit.
“All right, let’s go ask Mrs. Howell to fetch your cape, it’s a bit chilly out today.” They walked out of the study.
“I’ll go get it, Papa. I know where it is.” Josie rushed off toward the nursery.
“Don’t wake up your mother,” he called out.
The knocker on the front door echoed in the hall. That’s strange. They never received visitors. He’d been even more reclusive in the past few weeks. He tried to fill his days with tasks and chores around the estate to keep his mind from wandering to what he could have done differently that last day.
Daniel walked over to the large carved front door. He pulled it open to find Lucius and Miss Spencer standing on his front stoop. They seemed as surprised to see him opening the front door as he was to see them.
Lucius pulled off his hat. “Hello, Weston.”
Seeing Lucius reminded him of Charlotte. They had identical green eyes and the same half-smile. Inexplicably angry, he glowered at them. Why were they here reminding him of the pain he felt? Reminding him of her.
“What are you doing here?” He voiced his thoughts rather ungraciously.
Miss Spencer looked taken aback by his tone, but he didn’t care. Lucius twisted his hat around in his hands. “We just wanted to speak with you about Charlotte and your brother.”
“I hope you’re not here to invite me to the wedding.” He twisted his lips in an ironic half-smile.
“No, we hoped we could convince you to stop the wedding,” Lucius replied.
That was not what he had been expecting. “Pardon me?” he asked.
Miss Spencer spoke up for the first time. “They are miserable. Both of them. They won’t admit it, and they won’t talk about it, but we can see plainly they are forcing themselves to go through with this marriage because of expectations.”
“Yes, what she said. I haven’t seen a genuine smile on Charlotte’s face in weeks.”
“I don’t see what that has to do with me.” Daniel’s anger lodged firmly in the center of his chest. Charlotte and his brother had made their choices.
