Charlotte was doing her own packing in her small room. Ginny had visited her on many occasions and she never ceased to be angry over Charlotte's accommodations. As his wife's daughter, Charlotte should be treated as one of the family, but often, she was treated more like a servant. Her father would not pay for a lady's maid to attend her, so Ginny took up the slack, along with MaryAnn, in helping the woman to get dressed and do her hair.
“Hey, Lottie. Can I help you pack?” she asked, coming in and sitting on the small bed.
Smiling with her usual cheerfulness, Charlotte responded, “Thank you, but no. As you can see, I am nearly finished.”
Wilhelm Richter had paid several calls on Charlotte over the past few weeks. During that time, Charlotte had grown more dreamy eyed.
“Have you and Mr. Richter worked anything out?” Ginny knew it was impertinent, but what else was there to do?
Glancing at her younger and supposedly less experienced sister, Charlotte simply raised an eyebrow. After a moment, she returned to her packing.
“So... that was a yes?”
Heaving a big sigh, Charlotte stopped what she was doing and sat down beside her sister. Their relationship had definitely deepened since their arrival in London. In a strange turn of events, Sarah seemed less selfish and more intuitive to those around her. Her sister's maturity pleased her greatly.
“He will be attending the house party as you well know. We will have ample opportunity to get to know one another better there. Especially since no one will likely pay us much mind.”
“Lucky you. While you are about having a good time with Mr. Richter, mother will make it her sole purpose to drive me crazy.”
Putting an arm around her sister, Charlotte commiserated. “I had my time as well, you know. Before I married Mr. Stevens, mother went about scheming to marry me off. Tis a right of passage.”
“Yippee. I'm sure Oliver will love her scheming too.”
Removing her arm and staring her sister in the eyes, she asked, “Oliver, is it?”
Turning her head to the side and regarding Charlotte in return, Ginny asked, “What do you expect? Have you seen me spend time with any other man?”
“Will an offer be forthcoming?”
Ginny did her best to look cocky. “Undoubtedly.”
“And would this be welcome?”
Ginny shrugged. “I like him. He talks to me as though we're equals. He was condescending once and let's just say he won't make that mistake again.”
“I should like to hear that you think more of him than that. Do you think you could ever love him, dearest?”
Ginny smiled at the wistful sound of her sister's voice. Although Ginny had no plans to ever fall in love again, she had to admit that Sarah was quite smitten.
“Yes, I think I could,” she answered.
A beaming smile came across Charlotte's face, just before she half scooped Ginny up into a big, bear hug. “I am so happy. I would not want you to suffer in a loveless marriage.”
Hugging her sister back, enjoying the feeling of family, Ginny whispered, “You need never worry about that.”
Charlotte returned to her task and Ginny laid down on her bed. While thinking about whether she was ready to have the story continue, her mother came bounding into the room.
“Sarah, my darling. Lord Conway is in the parlor waiting for you.” The woman was giddy, practically combustible with her glee. If Sarah were to marry Lord Conway, her daughter would be the first to tame one of the Fearsome Foursome. That practically guaranteed Lady Weston passage into every parlor of the ton.
Raising an eyebrow toward her sister, Ginny silently left the room to join Oliver downstairs. When she reached the room, it was empty. Looking around in confusion, the butler came up behind her and announced, “Lord Conway is in the study with your father, Lady Sarah. Lord Weston requests that you await them here.”
Lady Weston approached at the end of the butler's speech and cried, “Oh, my. How fortuitous that your father was in residence this afternoon. James, ask Cook to prepare a tea tray. We shall be here awaiting their return.”
During her travels around the world, Ginny often took stock of people. There was something soothing about sitting in a cafe and watching humanity go about its business. She had seen romance blossoming and degrading, good news being passed, contentment and bliss. Once, she even saw tragedy, having witnessed an accident between a pedestrian and a vehicle. But in all her observations, she had never seen a woman such as Sarah's mother, who at any moment would explode in fiery exuberance. She was aglow, which almost had Ginny laughing so hard, she'd be crying.
Taking a seat on the settee nearest the fireplace, Ginny waited for Oliver to finish with her father. It was certain that her father was grilling the poor man over his intentions. They had discussed how he should handle the situation, should it arise. Oliver was to state that he was courting Sarah, and had every intention of declaring himself soon. Of course, that had been three weeks ago and courtship in London society in the early 1800's should not take so long.
Remaining calm, wondering if Oliver was being painted into a corner, Ginny watched as Lady Weston flitted around the room like a hummingbird on steroids. First she rearranged every pillow and knickknack. Then she examined her appearance in a small mirror just inside the doorway to the room. When she approached Ginny and tried to fiddle with her hair, Ginny stopped her cold.
“Do not touch me, mother. I look fine. Can't you just sit down and wait?” Ginny asked, exasperation obvious in her voice.
Taking a seat, but only just barely putting her butt on the cushion, Lady Weston looked as though she would break out in hives. “What do you suppose they are talking about, dearest?”
Eyes widening, Ginny couldn't believe the woman was either that obtuse or that she thought Ginny was. “Father is obviously grilling him about his intentions, mother.”
“Do you think that he means only to toy with you? Surely, as a gentleman, he could not be so cruel.”
Rolling her eyes, Ginny found that she still didn't care either way. Stay, go. It didn't matter to her. Although she liked him, she didn't feel much beyond that.
“Regardless, mother, we shall find out soon enough. You're making me dizzy with all your moving about. Relax. It's not as though there is anything we can do about it.”
Lady Weston caught movement and turned so quickly toward the door, her hair nearly came undone from its bun. Charlotte walked in and took in the situation immediately. Smiling, she sat down next to Ginny, but remained quiet.
“Charlotte, you must not sit there. Where will Lord Conway sit?” The brightness of Lady Weston's cheeks was testament to her attitude.
“There are many chairs in the room, mother, including the one you're sitting on. Charlotte may stay here. If Lord Conway wants to sit with me, we can move.”
Tsking as only a mother can, she replied, “Absolutely not. Charlotte will not ruin our chances. She had her chance and chose poorly. Now it is our turn and nothing shall ruin it.”
Charlotte gasped and Ginny sat up straighter and stared at the woman across from her. With a hand on her arm, Ginny kept Charlotte from leaving the room. Her next words were icy, spoken with clear intent. “How dare you, mother? The last time I checked, Charlotte was your daughter as well. Her husband's death was not anymore her fault than it was his. And since when is it 'our' chance?”
Lady Weston looked between both women, but couldn't form any words in reply. Instead, she stood up and left the room. Ginny could hear her pacing the entryway, so she was still intent on finding out the reason for the meeting between her husband and Lord Conway.
Whispering to her sister, Ginny said, “She's an idiot, Charlotte. Please don't let her get to you.”
Her smile was sad all the same. “I am more than aware of our mother's shortcomings, Sarah. She takes her direction from her husband. Tis sad, really.”
“You can say that again.” Before they could continue their talk, Lady Weston came bou
nding back into the room, taking a chair farther from her daughters. Not a moment later, Lord Weston walked in with Lord Conway right behind him. As soon as he entered the room, his eyes were only for Sarah.
“Sarah, as you can see, Lord Conway is here to see you... again. Lady Weston, please join me in my study.”
Turning on his heel, Lord Weston stormed out the room, his ridiculous wife following close behind. Ginny looked at Charlotte, who in turn stared back. Whatever had happened between the two men did not go as her father would have hoped. Both women turned toward Lord Conway, raising their eyebrows in question.
Taking the seat across from the women, Lord Conway looked somewhat uncomfortable to discuss the situation. It occurred to Ginny that he would reveal their plan, and he didn't know if Charlotte knew anything about it. Turning toward her sister once again, she asked, “Charlotte, would it be too much to ask for a moment alone with Lord Conway? I promise that we will be on our best behavior.”
“I shall go and see what is taking the tea so long. Please excuse me, Lord Conway.”
As she rose, so did he. Once Charlotte had exited the room, closing the door behind her, Oliver looked at her with consternation.
“Your father is expecting me to make an offer, Sarah. I cannot disagree with him. We have been seen together in every possible social situation and people are beginning to talk.”
“What do you want to do, Oliver? Do you really care what my father or anyone else thinks? Would you cave to such convention?” Realizing that she was being unfair, it still did not stop Ginny from throwing it in his face. They had made a promise, and although she knew that something had to happen eventually, she hated being pushed in a particular direction because people couldn't handle a little idle talk.
Disappointment marred his face as he regarded her for a moment. “Is that what you think?”
Taking a deep breath and releasing it, she shook her head. “No. I'm sorry. My father is a manipulative prick and it bothers me that anything we do would be not because we want it, but because we want to shut him up.”
“I have put him off, Sarah. I have asked that we wait until after the house party at Lady Hopewell's home. But I must tell you that after that party I will be asking for your hand. Tis time, I think.”
Searching his face for something, not even sure what, Ginny nodded her understanding. Was he in love with her? If this story was true to the format, then of course he was. Was she in love with him? No, that was asking too much. She did like him and she did consider him a friend. He treated her with equanimity and she could ask for little more.
“Thank you for the time. I will give our relationship a lot of thought.”
“Do you feel anything for me, Sarah?” he asked beseechingly.
“Of course I do, Oliver. I like you. A lot. I just don't know if I have more to give right now.”
Rising to his feet, Oliver stalked away. It was bad enough that he had to endure a grueling session with Lord Weston, but to come face to face with the fact that he was sharing the woman he loved with a dead man was too much. Walking to the window, he stared out at the street below, trying in vain to get his temper under control. He never heard her approach.
“I'm sorry, Oliver. You shouldn't have to wait for me. I will understand if you want to drop me altogether.” Recognizing it as totally passive-aggressive, it still didn't stop her from saying it. Losing Oliver would not leave a stain on her heart like leaving Colby behind in Wyoming. Her only problem would be being stuck in this time period even longer than was necessary.
Turning to face her, Oliver spoke in a low, thrumming voice. “I could no more leave you than cut off my arm, Sarah. For while you have enjoyed my friendship, you have come to mean much more to me.”
Without another word, Oliver walked out of the room. And Ginny was left to feel more self-disgust about herself and her life.
Chapter 14
Sitting beside one of the most eligible and handsome gentlemen of the season, Penelope couldn't believe her good fortune. Not only had Lord Townshend shown her enormous amounts of attention during the past few weeks, he often hinted at what would happen at Lady Hopewell's house party. All his hints made her tingle in anticipation.
When he arrived in the late afternoon and asked her to take a drive with him through the park, Lady Hammersmith was quick to agree. A man as rich as Lord Townshend would take good care of her daughter. With her husband growing older and less vibrant, there was nothing more important than seeing to the care of their only offspring.
Silence coated the ride like a thick blanket, with neither inclined to break it. Penelope just enjoyed his strong presence and the feel of his body so close to hers. Martin spent the time chastising himself over his inability to stay away from the chit. He constantly deluded himself into thinking that she was well aware that he could never offer for her, so both of them could just enjoy the time they had together.
Leisurely traveling through the park, Martin finally spoke. “Tis a fine day. The weather in Folkestone will be mild indeed. Lady Hopewell has many outdoor pursuits planned.”
A little disappointed by the mundaneness of the conversation, Penelope decided that now was the time to be bold. With all the attention he had rained on her over the past few weeks, surely she meant more to him than any of the other débutantes of the season.
“Martin, will you kiss me again during the party?” Her question was whispered and her inexperience glaringly obvious. There was something unasked in her question, but only because she hadn't the information or experience to ask it.
Pulling sharply to the side of the road and applying his brake, Martin turned to stare at the young girl beside him. Although in her second season, it only made her nineteen or twenty years old. With her appearance and her spectacles, she looked older, but he had to remind himself that she wasn't. And she certainly wasn't prepared to give up her respectability to become his lover. This should have set off warning bells in his head, but his delusions were too great to affect his behavior.
“What kind of gentleman would I be if I took advantage of a young, innocent girl?”
Her breath seemed to leave her body and for a moment, Penelope was certain that he meant to discontinue their encounters. His face was so serious, but not unkind. There, in his eyes, was an indication of the war going on in his head. What he could be thinking, she had no way of knowing.
Before she could respond, he whispered, his voice gruff, “I am desperate to kiss you right now, Penelope. If not for your reputation, I would.”
Her body thrummed with the confession, and her breathing became short and choppy. During her whole life, Penelope had never experienced such feelings. A warmth settled over her body and a blush rose to her cheeks. Seeing the change come over her, Martin's body reacted as well. His erection was strong and uncomfortable. If he didn't find release with Penelope, he would have to find it with someone.
In their visual game of chicken, Martin flinched first. Turning away from her, he set about starting the curricle once again and resuming their drive. Taking a deep breath to settle her nerves, Penelope stared out at the scenery. Their conversation was dangerous, or so she'd been taught time and again growing up. Men were the enemy, their only purpose to seduce and abandon. As much as the lessons had been drilled in her head, Penelope couldn't believe that of Martin. With the exception of their one kiss, he'd been a perfect gentleman.
Turning the conversation to safer topics, Penelope asked, “How is your latest experiment coming along, Martin? Have you solved the issue with the leaves drying out?” When in doubt, Penelope always reverted to her love of botany.
Taking her cue, Martin started to talk about his attempts at cross-breeding. As usual, they were able to speak to one another easily. This was how it should be with a woman, Martin thought, while listening to her explain some of the things she'd accomplished with her plants. A person should be able to discuss anything with a wife, not just produce an heir and go about his business as usual. He
only wished his mother could understand such a concept.
Chapter 15
The day before they were set to leave, Charlotte wanted to send a brief message to Wilhelm. Over the past few weeks of waiting for the house party, Charlotte became more reticent about their rendezvous. Her husband had been a vicar, after all. What would it look like for her to engage in a brief affair with an unsuitable man?
Taking a deep breath, she set out to put her feelings onto paper once again. Sitting in her room, at the small desk where she did her correspondence, a cold chill passed over her. Could she live with herself when the affair was over? Could she live with herself if she gave up a chance for a little happiness? The uncertainty was agonizing.
Sitting back in her chair, Charlotte decided to approach the situation logically. She would consider the pros and cons and then make as unbiased a decision as she could. Feeling more calm, she went about making her list.
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