Noting the expected, horrified response Muriel had anticipated, Charlotte felt quite dreadful for her deception. Tears moistened her eyes at her disappointment at his reaction.
"H-how long have you ... ?" He stood and brought his hand to his chin as he considered what he had just seen. "Never mind."
"Lord Irving, I-" Charlotte discovered that he could no longer face her.
"I think it time that I must be going." He straightened and still could not address her directly. He bowed and said, "Good day to you, my lady."
"My lord, I have yet to tell you the other item. The good bit" Silence ensued as he passed the stone bench to take his leave.
Charlotte called out to his retreating form, "My favorite color is robin egg blue."
"I believe Lord Irving has left Faraday Hall," Muriel informed her sister. She found Charlotte sitting on the stone bench alone. Her hands were clasped, resting in her lap, and her head was lowered in sorrow.
"I have hurt him. I know it" Charlotte would never have cried for herself. She always wept for others, for their loss or their pain, but never her own.
"What do you care? He has fled at the prospect of your blemish. An imperfection that is imaginary."
"It must have disturbed him greatly." Charlotte sniffed, regretting that she had ever listened to her sister. "It was terrible. Lord Irving could not rid himself of my presence quickly enough. You should have seen his face. His expression was ... He appeared quite mortified.
"I told him my eye wandered. Why did he leap to the conclusion that it was false?" Emotion threatened to choke her words. "Of course that would frighten him, it would frighten anyone. I believe it was most unkind of me to tell him such a thing, Moo."
"It is not your fault he chose to exaggerate your tale."
"I suppose that is true." Charlotte sighed. "What if he should tell the other gentlemen?"
"It would be the best possible outcome imaginable, Char-Char. The more who know, the more we can be certain of their true affection. The ones who do not return did not truly care for you."
"Why must you see the worst in people?" This wasn't the first time she'd chastised Muriel for her suspicious nature.
"I might ask you why you always see the good in everyone," Muriel countered.
"Whether you wish to see it or not, most people are good and kind. If given a proper chance, that is," Charlotte added in an afterthought. "If you were older than fifteen, you might see that for yourself. Now, if you will excuse me, I have other guests."
Charlotte walked away as calmly as if she had not just had a row with her sister. Muriel headed along the side of the house. She waved at Susan, who, it seemed, was the last remaining person standing on the east lawn, along with a few servants.
"They've gone," Susan told Muriel when she came within conversational range. "Every one of them."
"All of them?" Muriel glanced toward the rear terrace and then the stables. There was no one in sight. Had Lord Irving's hasty exit precipitated the other gentlemen's departure?
"It was quite amazing really." Susan brushed Muriel's arm and nodded to a man walking up the drive. "Do you think that might be one gentleman who's changed his mind?"
"Let us see, shall we?" Muriel linked her arm through her friend's, and together they walked toward the drive to welcome their visitor. It did not take long to see it was not a young man in fine dress, but a middle-aged one in rather worn clothing. Muriel soon recognized Mr. Ellis.
"Good day to you, Lady Muriel, Miss Susan." He removed his hat, greeting them, and appeared in very high spirits.
"Greetings, Mr. Ellis," Susan replied.
Muriel nodded her head, acknowledging him.
"I'm here to speak to Sir Philip Somerville. Would you happen to know if he's about?" Mr. Ellis glanced around as he spoke.
"Did he not pay you as he said he would?" Muriel would not find this a surprise. She tried not to smile or appear too cheery at this dreadful news.
"Paid me for my trouble, he did. More than enough." Mr. Ellis smiled, replacing his hat. "Just need to tell him I'd brought his cattle to ole Gilbert's farm, like he told me."
"Sir Philip's horses?" The reference startled Muriel from her disappointment at the baronet settling his ac counts in a timely manner. "The pair of bays that pulled his curricle?"
"Aye, that be his cattle, alright." Mr. Ellis laughed.
"Why would he do that?" Susan seemed puzzled by the action. "Have them brought to the village, and then have them brought all the way to Farmer Gilbert's?"
"Put them on a bloomin' holiday, he does. Treats them like royalty." Mr. Ellis rubbed his jaw.
Muriel motioned for them to proceed to the manor. "Let us speak to Huxley regarding the baronet's whereabouts."
Sir Philip showing kindness to his horses almost made him likable, but Muriel could still not bring herself to think of him in any way nice.
"Had me order new traces, as well. Old ones were roughed up some, but not torn through or any such thin', didn't need to bother," Mr. Ellis continued. "Eli Hubbard were glad to have the work, I tell you. I think Sir Philip single-handedly brought more business to the village than the lot of young London swells."
Susan brightened and announced, "Just imagine that-Sir Philip making everyone happy!"
Not exactly everyone, Muriel added silently to herself.
Muriel glanced at Sir Philip just as he laid his fork and knife upon his empty plate. Because of his company, supper had been a bit more formal than the previous evening when only the three ladies attended.
Sir Philip sat to the right of the Duke's place setting at the head of the table, now empty. The baronet had changed from his brown frock coat and buckskins into an exquisitely cut blue superfine, buff trousers, and a decidedly crisp cravat tied with perfection.
Charlotte, in one of her favorite muted blue gowns, sat to the baronet's right. Muriel, who had allowed her sister to advise her on what was proper to be worn, sat across from Sir Philip, and Penny sat to Muriel's left.
"I think watching the footrace this afternoon has given me quite an appetite." Sir Philip pressed his napkin to his mouth before folding it at the conclusion of the meal.
He must have noticed the gentlemen's cravats were a conglomeration of limp and wilted linens by the end of the race. The very thought of it might have been too much for someone of Sir Philip's delicate dressing sensibilities.
"I did not think I could manage to finish a single course" He folded his napkin and laid it next to his plate.
"What a surprise," Muriel mumbled. "He is capable of thought-or so he says."
Aunt Penny nudged Muriel under the table with her foot but did not alert the others by looking at her youngest niece.
"I hope you found the meal satisfactory, sir." Charlotte's food had remained virtually untouched, not that she had placed much on her plate to begin with. Apparently the day's activity must have affected her appetite as well.
Aunt Penny gestured to a footman that it was time for Sir Philip's port.
"It has been quite a day-with the accident, attending to the repairs, and the footrace." Sir Philip chuckled at the recollection.
"Gracious-it's a wonder you've managed to recover enough to dine with us," Muriel added in a murmur. She could not sit by and keep her disagreeable opinions to herself.
"Enough!" Aunt Penny grunted under her breath. She swung her foot a bit more forcefully toward Muriel's leg, this second attempt successfully hitting the mark.
Muriel did not react and shifted her legs out of her aunt's reach, lest a third attempt should be made.
"What entertainment do you have planned for tomorrow, ladies, if I may ask?" Sir Philip looked at each of them for an answer. "I fear for the gentlemen's accessories-hats, fobs, and walking sticks."
They had not discussed the following day. Surely they could expect callers, many more than the six who had won coveted spots for tea, but far fewer than the previous day's.
"Sir Philip?" Muriel called to him
, in a voice half an octave higher than normal. "Do you plan to visit Bloxwich on business tomorrow? I believe you said something about the need to find a valet."
"And so I do." He accepted his after-dinner drink from the footman and raised his glass to Muriel.
"We shall leave you to your port, sir," said Aunt Penny. "If you will excuse us." She moved from the table, as did her nieces, who followed her out of the dining room.
Moving down the corridor, Aunt Penny encouraged Charlotte to enter the Citrus Parlor first. It was the room where a cozy fire in the hearth awaited them, where they spent most evenings plying their embroidery needle or reading.
With a hand on Muriel's shoulder, Aunt Penny delayed her. "A word, if you please."
Muriel slowed and stopped at the threshold. She remained silent.
"I am outraged at your conduct toward our guest," Aunt Penny scolded her. "I'm sure he has done nothing to warrant your harsh words."
"He is after our Charlotte." Muriel directed a stern gaze at her aunt.
"Oh, tish-tosh! He has not shown the least bit of interest in her."
"This aloof man-about-town is not to be trusted. He is not what he seems," Muriel told her aunt. "He is very careful in showing his true self to others, for good reason, but he does not fool me."
"Perhaps His Grace is correct in believing you need a governess. Perhaps a ladies' school for manners would not be out of the question." To threaten Muriel with the mundane had always convinced her to mend her ways, only in this instance it may not have been a threat. "You will pay Sir Philip the respect that he is due, am I understood?"
"Completely, Aunt Penny." Muriel moved forward to take her embroidery from her sister. "Thank you, CharChar."
"Moo, I am convinced that you could improve if only you would put your mind to it. " Charlotte spoke regarding her embroidery skills, not her manners. "Here's your hoop, Aunt Penny."
"You sister is capable of a great many things, Char, but only when she is genuinely determined."
"Was he not handsome this evening?" Charlotte sank onto the sofa but did not move to ply her needle. "His dark blue jacket was certainly flattering, as was his cravat; it took a skilled hand to-" Her eyebrows rose in either confusion or comprehension. "He does not employ a valet, did you say, Moo?"
"For goodness' sake, enough about our guest, if you please." Muriel huffed, seating herself on the opposite end of the sofa. "Aunt Penny, do you have any notion what we should plan for tomorrow afternoon?"
"We should have something in mind, surely." Aunt Penny eased into the overstuffed chair decorated with bright yellow lemons. "There must be some diversion for the gentlemen who come to call. A display of Charlotte's talent would be ... some music, perhaps?"
"We could certainly play several duets," Muriel said, suddenly caught up with her aunt's idea. "And I'm sure Sukey would join our party if she were asked; she has forever been practicing with us."
"We'll also need Sir Nicholas to spread the word to the gentlemen," Aunt Penny added. She would plead for his help yet again.
"Right this way, sir." Huxley's familiar voice alerted the three they would soon have company.
Muriel, Charlotte, and Aunt Penny straightened in their seats. A shuffling of skirts and an exchange of glances passed among them before Sir Philip stepped into the room. The three stood as he entered.
"I beg your pardon-I do not wish to disturb you." He motioned for them not to rise, but it was too late. "Please do not bother yourselves."
"It is nothing, only a ladies' occupation." Aunt Penny gestured for him to be seated and eased back into her chair, as did Muriel, gathering up their embroidery now that they had company.
"A worthwhile lady's endeavor," Sir Philip said. "Would you mind showing me your efforts?"
"I attempt to make improvements," said Charlotte, reaching back to retrieve her hoop. Muriel came to her aid, substituting her own instead. "I believe one should continually improve upon one's craft"
"Is this"-he glanced upon the stitching with a certain bit of bewilderment "your fine handiwork?" The marked surprise on Sir Philip's face could not be masked.
How did Charlotte not realize he gazed upon the wrong hoop? Muriel was certain her sister's singular thought was for the baronet and that she saw nothing else.
"Quite commendable, indeed." Sir Philip cleared his throat, obviously pushing aside all honesty. "I admire your determination."
Muriel stood, retrieving the hoop, and put all of them into the basket. "Excuse me, I need to write Sukey regarding tomorrow afternoon."
"I also need to pen a missive at once." Aunt Penny rose and moved to the drop-front secretaire. "Will you have the Music Room lit for our inspection?"
"Yes, Aunt Penny," Muriel said before stepping from the room. "I shall return momentarily."
Charlotte would be left to entertain Sir Philip, if only for the few minutes it would take to write Sir Nicholas.
"Would you care to take a turn about the room, Sir Philip?" Charlotte offered, being the sole idle family member.
Even though the room was small and the stroll along the perimeter would take no time at all, Charlotte had done the proper thing by making the suggestion to occupy their guest.
Charlotte nearly shivered in anticipation when she placed her hand upon Sir Philip's arm, accepting his escort. Their contact, although not intimate, excited her beyond belief. How could he not feel something between them?
"This panel on this Sevres was the inspiration for this room." She motioned to the decorative vase. "Papa had this small parlor decorated with various types of citrus. When we discovered these plates depicting lemons and limes, we added them to our collection."
"And that is the reason this parlor has the most delectable depictions of these fruits," Sir Philip added.
"Exactly." Why it pleased her that he could see their reasons for creating their parlor, she did not know, but it had.
Sir Philip glanced about. His gaze followed the twining vinelike motif that curled its way along the upper edge of the wall near the ceiling. His preoccupation gave Charlotte time to admire him.
"Enchanting," he proclaimed. "Quite enchanting."
Sir Philip must not have cared for her at all. The very thought saddened her. Any one of her current suitors would have been exceedingly pleased to be in Sir Philip's place.
Clearly Sir Philip was only being polite and did not wish to further his acquaintance with Charlotte. He must have thought of her as the daughter of his absent host, and beyond that, nothing more.
How she wished there was a spark in his eyes when he looked at her, some gaiety in his voice when addressing her. How could Charlotte feel as if she would burst with joy when by his side while he, Sir Philip, remained oblivious to her interest?
Philip caught a glimpse of Lady Charlotte's exquisite profile. In that moment he realized exactly how much beauty she possessed. A type of beauty rarely seen even in the most elegant ballrooms of London.
He felt his face suffuse with an uncomfortable warmth, and his cravat felt as if it grew snugger by the second. The realization astounded him and he quickly consoled himself by amending that an admission of her beauty was not a declaration of any sort of affection.
She was merely an exceptionally lovely lady. There was no harm admitting such. It was, after all, common knowledge in this household.
"I have sent a note off to Yewhill Grange," Muriel announced, returning to the Citrus Parlor. "And the Music Room has been lit"
Charlotte and Philip stopped to regard Lady Muriel. "We have asked Miss Wilbanks to accompany us on the pianoforte tomorrow afternoon," Charlotte informed him with a vibrancy in her voice that told of her excitement.
"Is there to be a musical recital tomorrow for your gentlemen callers?" Philip regretted he would not be able to attend. He already had plans for the following afternoon. "How delightful!"
"Why don't you proceed to the Music Room?" Mrs. Parker suggested. "I have nearly finished here."
"If
you would do me the honor, Lady Muriel," Philip said, offering her his other arm.
Muriel refused politely and tendered a compromise of her own. "I shall lead the way."
"Tell me more what you have planned for tomorrow." Philip sounded as if he were genuinely interested.
"We shall play Mozart," Charlotte began, "a Vivaldi piece, and that nice Bach sonata we all love. You know the one, Moo-I mean Muriel."
"I know the very one," Muriel replied, pushing the double doors open wide.
Inside the Music Room, the wall sconces burned brightly, illumining the coffered ceiling and decorative friezes. Philip turned toward the front of the room where the harp and pianoforte sat. Behind them a collection of polished, stringed instruments and shiny horns of various shapes and sizes lined the wall.
"And what is it you play?" he murmured to Charlotte. He held up his hand, halting her reply. "No other instrument except the harp would do you justice, I think."
"You are so very clever, Sir Philip," Charlotte replied, smiling at his veiled compliment.
Philip's gaze moved to Muriel. "I expect the devil's own violin would suit you best" Oh, how it brought him such pleasure to tease her.
"My violin skills do not match our sister Augusta's." Muriel displayed a tight smile and remained civil. "I shall play the flute."
"Ah, you own to Pan's talent," Philip replied with true understanding. "The ability to inspire disorder and fear."
Muriel looked up from her book when movement at the doorway of the Breakfast Parlor caught her eye. "Good morning, Aunt Penny," she said, with Charlotte repeating the same only moments later.
"Good morning, girls." Aunt Penny shuffled through the morning post. Her hands didn't exactly shake, but there was a perceivable tension in the unsteady manner with which she sorted through the correspondence. "I think we may have moved forward with our afternoon with too much haste. There have been too many rushed missives, allowing the possibility of erroneous communication. I fear the sheer number of guests that might land on our doorstep."
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