You mean to tell me the gentlemen have decided upon a quest of their own? How did that happen? Did you somehow manage to maneuver them into ... ?" Muriel couldn't imagine her sister manipulating anyone, but to believe her suitors actually asked for a second contest seemed ridiculous.
"It was not I, Moo. For the life of me I cannot think they'd wish to hear something as horrid as the nonsense about my eye," Charlotte told her. "They insisted. I did not have the heart to deny them-and I confess I desire the return of my lost hair ribbon."
"I suppose it will all work out. Perhaps not to their benefit, and it cannot harm yours." Muriel had no part in this bit of mischief, which some might not believe, but in this instance she could claim innocence. "What are you going to tell them?"
"I haven't yet considered . . ." Charlotte was clearly distracted by something. Here she stood, but her thoughts appeared to be very far away.
"Char-Char!" Muriel had never seen her sister behave in such an odd fashion. "You do not attend!"
"I do beg your pardon, Moo. What is it you were saying?" Charlotte blinked as if she had awoken from a sleep. It was most peculiar how she appeared to be participating in conversation one moment and then drifting off in the next, right before Muriel's eyes.
"Those gentlemen, the ones searching for your hair ribbon, are expecting you to-" Muriel noticed her sister's concentration waning. "Where are your thoughts?"
"Please forgive me." Charlotte let out a sigh. "I'm afraid I cannot keep my mind from drifting to him."
Muriel was very afraid she referred to that odious man.
"I did not see him this afternoon. I do not believe he attended." Charlotte glanced down at the toe of her slipper emerging from under the hem of her dress. She turned the pointed tip as if admiring the ornamentation. "How I wished he had seen me play, listened to me sing. I had hoped he might enjoy ... "
Unquestionably she referred to that man who had foisted his presence upon them at Faraday Hall. He was an unwanted guest; Muriel did not even wish to think his name. "You cannot like him-Sir Philip."
"He thinks no more of me than one of his discarded neckcloths." Charlotte's voice broke at the very lowering thought. Revealing her despondent mood, she uttered a dramatic, "I am cast aside."
"If that were the case, then I would surely dub me an uncooperative length of linen," Muriel replied. Her revulsion to him was only second to his obvious distaste for her. "But all those other men adore you. Surely there must be one among them who would capture your heart."
"It would not be necessary if only Sir Philip.. Charlotte did not finish her thought.
"Why do you concern yourself about him?" Muriel hoped she'd been wrong about Sir Philip falling in love with Charlotte during her solo performance. She could not understand why Charlotte continually thought of the baronet. Redirecting her attention to a lucky gentleman, one who would prove to be more deserving, is what she needed to do.
"What of the young man who returns your ribbon?" Muriel prodded, as if she had asked the question a dozen times. With the ribbon's discovery, Charlotte would divulge to the victor her favorite dress or pair of shoes or whatever it was she'd deem a proper reward.
"I beg your pardon, Moo?" Charlotte's thoughts were miles away.
"What will you say to the one who returns your hair ribbon? You must have something prepared," Muriel whispered. "Have you planned some unfortunate, undesirable trait to tell him?"
"That doesn't sound much like a reward to me, Moo." At this moment Charlotte did not seem very concerned with her situation. It might be only a manner of minutes before the discovery of her ribbon.
"You're just blue-deviled because of Sir Philip, and he is not worth the effort. Do not forget the reason all these gentlemen are present" Muriel began to think she would never be able to rid her sister of the plaguing thoughts of the baronet.
"Do not worry, Moo," Charlotte sniffed. "I shall think of something eventually. And I shan't fret over him; there is no need. What do I care if he does not think well of me?"
"Char-Char." Muriel laid a hand upon her arm to stress the importance of her words. "Do you not think that being the center of attention for nearly two dozen men is enough? Most ladies would be thrilled."
"Of course it is thrilling." But the truth was, Charlotte did not think as much of them as she did of Sir Philip.
It was of no consequence. Charlotte would not dare go where she was not wanted-and that place was near Sir Philip's heart. As Muriel had stated, she had nearly two dozen eager suitors to pay her court. It was about time she considered them and addressed their interest in her.
"Mr. Evans, you have returned!" Aunt Penny called out, glancing toward Charlotte, making sure she was alerted to her victor's arrival.
Handsome, wavy-haired Mr. Evans appeared, dressed in a double-breasted cutaway coat, buff kerseymere trousers, and top boots. He held the green ribbon high in the air, displaying his triumph.
Muriel took her sister by the hand and moved toward him. "Bravo, Mr. Evans. Wherever did you find it?"
"Apparently as the guests moved from the Music Room to where we took refreshment, this ribbon decided it wished to remain indoors." He laid it over the Clarenceblue forearm of his jacket and offered it to Charlotte. "It lay on the floor behind a leg of the pianoforte."
"Thank you so very much." Charlotte blinked up at him, accepting her beloved ribbon. "I wonder how it could possibly have managed to be there."
"No matter, Mr. Evans has found it. You must tell him, Charlotte. He must have his reward," Muriel urged her sister. "You have promised."
Charlotte found a suitable place to sit and handed her ribbon to Muriel. "Will you replace it, dearest?"
Muriel fastened the ribbon in Charlotte's hair and tied it more securely than Lydia had.
Mr. Evans looked on. He preened, fingering his shirt frill and stock, waiting patiently.
"You shall have your prize." Charlotte smiled at him, which might have felt to him reward enough. She stood when Muriel had finished and stepped away. Charlotte held out her hand and beckoned, "Your arm, sir."
"I would be most delighted, my lady."
Once Charlotte placed her hand upon Mr. Evans' arm, they strolled toward the parterre. Charlotte gently guided him in the correct direction with a wave of her hand.
Muriel had no idea what Charlotte planned to tell him.
"I must see to the other gentlemen," Aunt Penny informed her niece.
As her aunt walked away, Muriel caught sight of someone new approaching. Dressed in a dark green jacket and smooth buff-colored trousers, Sir Philip neared.
"I see your sister has found her champion," he commented, sounding almost as if he did not care.
"Yes, there is some interest there." The best Muriel could do was make the baronet believe Charlotte had designs upon Mr. Evans.
"I had not thought myself interested, in regards toHowever, now I must admit ... " Sir Philip sounded almost unhappy at his realization. "I find I am having second thoughts about your sister."
She knew it. Muriel knew the dratted Sir Philip had fallen in love with Charlotte, when he'd all but convinced himself that Charlotte could not possibly come close to the suitable wife he had imagined. How could he have changed his mind so quickly?
Sir Philip's gaze moved to the few gentlemen who milled about, readying to depart. Perhaps he was sizing up his competition. If a choice of a husband were up to Muriel, it would have been simple enough. She would approve of anyone except Sir Philip.
Arriving at the stone bench in the parterre, Mr. Evans took up Charlotte's hand, holding it near, and gazed upon her with wide eyes.
"My dear Lady Charlotte, I am so very fortunate to have this opportunity to be in your company. I know I met you only a few days ago, but I must confess I find myself quite besotted. And I must tell you, I am not to be dissuaded."
"What was that again?" Charlotte said, turning to face him.
She had walked alongside him the entire way here but did no
t remember much of the journey. She barely recalled leaving Muriel's company or turning the corner of the manor. Had she and Mr. Evans conversed as they strolled? Charlotte couldn't imagine what she might have said to him.
Her attention had drifted upon seeing what she thought was a solitary horseman arriving just moments ago, coming up the drive. She had thought it might have been, possibly could be, Sir Philip.
"I'm afraid I didn't hear you." Then the notion of what she should say came to her.
Mr. Evans wished to hear of some deficit she hid from the masses. Tell him, she would-but it would be a lie, and lying did not sit well with her. Even a little one. Oh, why did they insist she do this to them?
"I'm afraid I don't hear well on my left side." She brought her hand to her left ear, indicating her difficulty.
"You can't hear, you say?" Mr. Evans' devotion seemed to be wavering a bit.
Charlotte thought Mr. Evans needed some added incentive to question his affection for her. "Not to be dissuaded," he had told her.
"Excuse me? Might you repeat that? And please stand over here." She gestured to her right. "My partial hearing does not bother you, does it?" Charlotte felt that if he truly cared for her, it should not make the least bit of difference.
"It cannot matter to me." Mr. Evans did not sound entirely convinced, however. How did he expect Charlotte to believe him?
"That is good to know. I imagine you have already heard about my eye?"
"Oh, that ... " His voice faltered and he staggered back a few steps.
"You must come closer to speak"-Charlotte reached out to draw him near-"else I cannot properly hear you. "
"I had thought that was a load of gammon," he said, raising his voice, nearly shouting at her. "A bit of unpleasantness to put some of us off."
"I cannot tell you how pleased I am those things do not bother you. Now we may be truly comfortable with each other."
"Yes." He pasted on a smile that even Charlotte knew to be false.
"I also wish to tell you that my favorite flowers are tulips." She smiled, waiting to see how he would react to that.
"Tulips," he repeated flatly. It did not seem to please him.
"Yes, they bloom in the spring when the cold of winter fades and the days grow warmer." Charlotte continued to watch him. Then to gently remind him, she offered, "If I am not mistaken, you brought me several tied with a white satin ribbon the day after we met."
"Did I?" But his heart really wasn't in his reply, nor was there any ardor. The devotion that he had proclaimed for her only minutes earlier had evaporated. "Oh, yes. I believe you are correct "
"As if you could have forgotten." She smiled and fluttered her lashes.
He consulted his pocket watch. "I beg your pardon, but I do believe it is time I be on my way. Again I thank you for this opportunity, Lady Charlotte." He bowed over her hand and then headed for the stables. "I shall never forget this moment "
It seemed that Mr. Evans could not leave fast enough.
No matter. Just as Muriel had told her, it was a test of his affection. It seemed Mr. Evans had discarded any interest he may have had.
Her sister's plan had not just come close but gone beyond what Charlotte considered correct behavior. She could not deny she was leading these gentlemen to believe what she would like to think of as exaggerated truths.
She followed his path out of the parterre toward the stables and stopped at the edge of the house. The sight of Mr. Evans departing on his horse did not mean as much as the vision of a crested carriage coming up the long drive of Faraday Hall.
Pure hope and happiness filled Charlotte's heart. "Look!" she cried out to no one. "Papa returns!"
Charlotte rounded the corner and headed toward the terrace where she'd left Susan, Muriel, and her aunt.
"Where have the other gentlemen gone, Moo?" Charlotte glanced about. She could see no trace of anyone near the maze or the east lawn where they'd gathered for tea earlier.
"They left moments after Mr. Evans returned with your ribbon," Aunt Penny told her.
"I see." Charlotte had wished to tell Muriel, and only Muriel, what had transpired during her private audience with Mr. Evans. "I saw Papa's carriage pull off the road and come up the drive."
"Your father has returned? We must hurry to greet him." Aunt Penny wasted no time and rushed toward the house.
Charlotte made to follow, but Muriel stopped her by taking hold of her elbow.
"Char-Char, what did you say to Mr. Evans?"
"I told him my favorite flowers were tulips."
"There was something else, perhaps?" Muriel pressed her to continue.
"I had mentioned some difficulty hearing on my left side." Charlotte motioned to her ear and straightened her shoulders, still uncomfortable with the outright lie. "He took it to mean I was deaf."
"That was well done." Muriel chuckled. "Very clever."
"It doesn't feel clever at all. It is entirely untrue. And I think it's almost cruel, Moo. The moment we were alone he told me he did not care about the prize. He wished only to share my company, if just for a few minutes."
"And I vow it took only a few seconds for Mr. Evans to change his opinion of you." By the sound of Muriel's voice, she was disappointed in him as well.
"Yes, I suppose that's exactly what happened. He does not truly care for me." Charlotte's gaze dropped to her feet, feeling close to tears.
"I am sorry," said Muriel, but she did not sound sincere. "You could not have cared for Mr. Evans all that much; you've only just made his acquaintance."
"It is not him precisely," Charlotte confessed. "I am disappointed by how easily the gentlemen are appalled by the slightest blemish and then exaggerate them."
"I believe it best that we not mention this to Papa," said Muriel as she glanced at the house, looking to make sure they had not been overheard. "He might not look so kindly upon this should he learn of it."
"I agree." Charlotte never enjoyed keeping anything from him.
"Shall we see Papa now?" Muriel suggested.
"Yes, let us go at once." Charlotte braved a smile, grasped her younger sister's arm, and moved toward the house.
Muriel and Charlotte entered in time to meet their father and Aunt Penny in the Grand Foyer.
"Yes, I completely understand. Thank you for handling the matter with such delicacy, Mrs. Parker," the Duke said.
Charlotte and Muriel stopped upon seeing their father and chorused, "Papa!" They curtsied and then ran toward him, arms open wide to hug him tight.
"We have missed you so!" his daughters cried. "We are glad you are home."
"The two of you have had quite the adventure." Their father returned their affection with a welcoming smile. "And my lovely Charlotte-it seems the young men could not wait for you to come to Town. They came to you."
"I am sorry, Papa. I had not meant to cause problems."
"I do not blame you. You have managed the best you could." The Duke stepped back and motioned behind them. "See who I have brought with me"
So excited was Muriel, and apparently Charlotte, to see their father, they had not noticed Sir Samuel Pruitt, now standing with Aunt Penny.
"Sir Samuel!" Charlotte and Muriel called out. They curtsied and each offered him their hand in greeting. He looked to be in good health. His wide, dark eyes and generous smile displayed his excitement at his arrival.
"Lady Charlotte." Sir Samuel took her hand first. "Lady Muriel." He bowed over her hand next. "I am delighted to see the two of you again."
"We saw you just last autumn, did we not?" Charlotte ventured, glancing at her sister for corroboration.
"Yes, before our first snowfall, as I recall," Muriel added. He had been on his way to his family home, Hamsdale Heath, in Northumberland.
"You must tell us how your sister and brothers are getting on," Charlotte urged.
"And you must tell me news of Augusta and her husband. I have not had a letter from her in some time," Sir Samuel insisted.
&
nbsp; Aunt Penny interrupted, "I am sure that all your conversations can wait until after Sir Samuel has settled in his room and recuperated from his journey."
"As you request, Mrs. Parker," Sir Samuel acknowledged. "I shall see you both at supper and we will speak then."
"But Sir Samuel-" Muriel thought his premature departure was grossly unfair.
"Papa-" Charlotte pleaded, hoping their father might intervene on their behalf.
"You shall see him at supper," he said in a tone that would brook no protest. "We've spent many hours on the roads. You must allow our guest to properly rest. Now off with you, Sir Samuel. There will be plenty of opportunity for discussion and family gossip later."
"Very well." Muriel did so wish to have a long con versation with him, and not just about their families. "I suppose I shall need to wait."
"That's my girl." The Duke smiled and gestured for them to follow. "If you please, ladies. I would like to speak to the two of you."
Charlotte took hold of Muriel's hand and they followed their father to his library. The room felt complete when he entered. The walls of leather-bound books seemed to welcome the Duke.
"I am quite fond of that young man." His Grace had meant Sir Samuel, of course.
"As are we," Charlotte answered for the two of them.
"If either of you could see about matrimonially securing him, I'd be more than grateful." The Duke winked at his daughters.
"Oh, Papa, you shouldn't tease us so." Charlotte pulled the door closed behind them.
"Char-Char does have a dozen or so suitors presently doting on her; one more shouldn't make a difference." Muriel squeezed her sister's arm, letting her know her words were spoken as a mere jest. "I'll see what I can do Papa, although I am only fifteen."
"Soon to be sixteen, although I do not believe I could part with you so soon." He walked behind his desk, glanced at the papers that had accumulated on its surface since his absence, and settled into the chair. "Now tell me what has transpired since these suitors of Charlotte's arrived. Your aunt seems to be most distressed by their presence."
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