“Yes, of course. And thank you, Mrs. Entwhistle,” replied Charlie, curious as to who might be crying in Max’s chambers. Surely it wasn’t Cressida, which meant it must be Diana. Because if it had been a maid, surely the housekeeper would have entered to check on her.
Mrs. Entwhistle hastened away toward the servants’ stairs, and Charlie moved to the door. Pulling it open a little farther, she peeked in, and sure enough, it was Diana. The young duchess sat upon a window seat on the far side of the chamber, a very masculine sitting room. She seemed oblivious to Charlie’s presence as she crossed the thick Turkish rug.
“Diana…” Charlie murmured, and the young woman jumped.
“Lady Charlotte. Oh…I’m sorry…” Diana hastily dashed away the tears from her cheeks with trembling fingers. “I…I’m sure this must look very odd. I assure you I’m not usually a watering pot. And I’m not in the habit of frequenting my brother-in-law’s rooms.” Bright color flooded her cheeks. “I mean, I don’t even visit them infrequently. It’s just that… Oh, fiddlesticks. I’m not making any sense.”
“That’s quite all right.” Charlie gestured at the seat beside her. “May I join you?”
“Yes. Of course.” Diana moved her skirts of pearl-gray silk. “Please do.”
Charlie sat and studied Diana’s flushed, tear-stained countenance for a moment before transferring her gaze to the view outside the window. “I take it this used to be your husband’s sitting room,” she said softly.
Diana gave a shaky exhale. “Yes. Yes, it was…” Her gaze flitted about the chamber but darted away from the open bedroom door that showed a glimpse of a majestic four-poster bed beyond.
Max’s bed.
Charlie blew out a breath and looked away too. “I have a little understanding of what it’s like to lose someone you love. I lost my oldest brother, Thomas, and my dear mama, Elizabeth, passed away when I was only six years old. My poor father has grieved for his son and his wife for such a long time. And the sorrow never really goes away. You learn to cover it over and hide it, to go on, but then something happens, or you see something that brings it all back, and all of that sadness wells up to the surface again. There’s no way to control it.”
Diana reached out and squeezed her hand. “Yes, that’s exactly what it’s like. Only…it’s not just sorrow that I feel. It’s…” She closed her eyes and swallowed. “It’s anger. Especially when I’m here at Heathcote. You see, this is where Anthony died. During another house party, not unlike this one.”
Charlie opened her mouth, then shut it again. She wasn’t sure what to say. She’d heard—well, all of the ton had heard—about Anthony Devereux’s untimely death almost four years ago. But Charlie hadn’t known it had been at Heathcote Hall. No wonder Max hadn’t made mention of the property until recently. Eventually she managed, “I’m so sorry, Diana. I had no idea. And I can’t even imagine how difficult it is for you to be here right now.”
A small smile trembled about Diana’s mouth. “As difficult as it is, please know that I’m very happy for you and Max, and I would never want you to think that I do not wish to be here. I always experience such a tangle of emotions whenever I visit this place. But after I’ve had my initial bout of tears, I’m fine.” She met Charlie’s gaze. “I suppose you’ve heard that it was a riding accident that took Anthony’s life.”
Charlie nodded. “Yes… Well, I’d heard he’d fallen from his horse. But nothing more.”
“I don’t blame him at all. That’s not what I’m angry about. Accidents happen. What I can’t forgive him for is—” Diana broke off and her eyes glittered with tears again. “What I can’t forgive him for is the fact that he was unfaithful to me. And even worse, his…his lover was one of the guests at our house party. I still love him, and I miss him, but I’m so, so angry that he…that he betrayed me. When I discovered what he’d done…to me. To us…” She shook her head. “The worst part is, I never got to confront him about it. To ask him why he would do such a thing. I thought he loved me…” She bit her lip and wiped away another tear that had slipped onto her cheek. “I’m sorry, I’m weeping again.”
Shock stole Charlie’s breath. “Oh, Diana,” she whispered. “That’s so heartbreaking and awful and—” On an impulse, she gathered the young woman into a hug. “I don’t know how you bear it. Coming here. Having to revisit it all. It must be absolute torture.”
“Yet still I come back. And I visit this room. It’s almost as though I enjoy pressing on the bruises inside me.” Diana drew back from Charlie’s embrace and sighed deeply. “I’m such a fool.”
Charlie touched her arm. “No, you’re not. Not at all. You loved him even though he hurt you. It’s only natural that you would miss him and grieve for all that you once had, and for all the hopes and dreams that were taken from you.”
Diana gave a watery sniff. “Thank you for listening, Charlie. And for your understanding. I would say that virtually no one knows about Anthony’s infidelity. It’s not something one generally tends to talk about during morning calls or when making polite chitchat at a ball or soiree. Or even with one’s mother-in-law. Indeed, I’ve never really spoken about this to anyone before today.”
Charlie smiled. “I’m touched that you feel comfortable enough to confide in me, given the short time we’ve known each other.”
“It’s funny, but yes, I do feel that way. Comfortable. I haven’t any immediate family of my own to trade confidences with; I was an only child and both my parents passed away soon after Anthony and I wed. And most women in the ton are…” She shrugged a slender shoulder. “I can sense you’re different, Charlie. And for some reason I cannot explain, I believe I can trust you.” Her mouth curved in a smile. “Perhaps it’s because I’ve always liked Max and I trust his judgment. He’s an honorable man at heart. Despite what the scandal rags say.”
Charlie pressed her lips together. “Hmm, the scandal rags.”
A shadow of remorse passed across Diana’s face. “Oh, Charlie. I didn’t mean to imply… I shouldn’t have mentioned those dreadful publications. They print the most horrid rubbish. And now that I’ve met you, I can see that the gossipmongers are quite wrong about you. You’re lovely and sweet and you have such…spirit. I admire that about you. And I will do what I can to restore your good standing in the eyes of Polite Society.”
“I…I’m quite overwhelmed. Thank you, Diana. I appreciate your support.”
She waved an elegant hand. “Think nothing of it. To be perfectly honest, I’ve never been that fond of Cressida’s first choice for Max.”
Charlie cocked an eyebrow. “Lady Penelope?”
“Yes…” She leaned closer in a conspiratorial fashion. “I’ve always thought that that young woman is all superficial prettiness with no real substance to her. A bit like that Delftware vase over there.” She nodded at the gray marble mantel where a blue and white patterned porcelain urn stood.
At that moment, Charlie’s stomach emitted a long low growl, and she clapped a hand over her belly. “Oh my goodness. I beg your pardon.”
Diana laughed. “Think nothing of it.” But then her expression changed. “Don’t tell me you’ve had nothing to eat since you arrived. When Cressida and I took luncheon on the terrace, she mentioned you were tired and had asked for a tray in your room.”
Charlie didn’t know what to say. “I… No, I haven’t had anything,” she said carefully. Cressida was such a nasty— Oh, she really didn’t want to say it, even in her own mind.
“Well, we can’t have that.” Diana rose and smoothed out her skirts. “Come to my room at the other end of the hall. I have a tin of bonbons, and you must have a few until a tray is brought up.”
Charlie stood too and offered her new friend a grateful smile. “Thank you so much. I hope I’m not keeping you from anything important, though. I know how busy Cressida must be. And you. A house party is such a huge undertaking.”
“Busy? Oh pfft,” said Diana as they exited the room arm in arm. “Cressida
’s busy lounging about the terrace at the moment. The staff here at Heathcote Hall are so well-trained, she barely has to lift a finger. And I’m not busy either. After you’ve eaten, if you’re not too tired, what say I show you about the gardens? I’d like your opinion on where we should set up certain activities. Then we should stop by the kitchen to see what pastries Cook and her staff are preparing. We must sample a few to make sure they are of the highest quality.”
“I would love that,” said Charlie. She’d never been more sincere.
Chapter 14
Let’s hope your wardrobe is up to snuff, ladies, for the Season proper has begun!
The Beau Monde Mirror: The Essential Style & Etiquette Guide
Heathcote Hall, Hampstead Heath
April 17, 1819
The next two days passed in a wild flurry of activity. Guests began to arrive at the Hall, and once the revelries began in earnest, Charlie barely had time to catch her breath, let alone spend much time with Max. Much to her chagrin.
There were seemingly countless rounds of tea and cake on the terrace and in the drawing room, and innumerable games of cards and charades and bouts of billiards, shuttlecock, and pall-mall. And then there was an excursion across the heath on horseback and an archery tournament followed by a picnic beside Heathcote’s lake. Each night there were elegant dinners with endless courses, followed by more cards and charades and impromptu concerts. There was always something to do, someone to make small talk with, and some new gown to change into. And Max seemed to be caught up in the same whirlwind.
The pace Cressida set was nothing less than breakneck, and Charlie suspected this had been the dowager duchess’s aim from the very beginning: she clearly wanted to keep Charlie and Max occupied and away from each other. It didn’t help matters that Cressida kept thrusting eligible young women like Lady Penelope in her son’s direction. It seemed she’d deliberately engineered seating plans or devised small groups and teams in such a way to put the greatest amount of distance between Max and his bride-to-be.
It was enough to make Charlie want to grind her teeth and stomp her very sore feet.
Although, Charlie was relieved that most of the guests were pleasantly polite to her—at least to her face. No one had dared to give her the cut direct or say anything disparaging. It was really only Lady Penelope who continued to give her false smiles and compliments while simultaneously trying to inveigle herself into Max’s company whenever she could. If there was a spy lurking about, taking note of how she behaved or what she said, Charlie wasn’t aware of anyone paying particular attention to her. All the same, it was unsettling to think someone might be watching her while she was completely oblivious to it.
Of course, Charlie was also ecstatic to have Sophie by her side a good deal of the time. She and Nate had brought baby Thomas with them, and Charlie had made sure that the makeshift nursery that had been set up on the third floor near their bedroom had everything they would need.
When Gabriel and Arabella, the Earl and Countess of Langdale, arrived at Heathcote a few hours before the betrothal ball was due to begin, Charlie was beside herself with happiness. Arabella and Sophie joined Charlie in her dressing room just as Molly was sliding a diadem encrusted with diamonds and pearls into Charlie’s beautifully styled hair.
“I still cannot believe that you and Gabriel managed to get here in time,” said Charlie, catching Arabella’s gaze in the dressing-table mirror when Molly stepped back. “You must be exhausted. How many days did it take you to journey from Edinburgh to London again? Five?”
Arabella pushed her spectacles up her nose. “Four and a half, actually. And yes, I’m a wee bit weary. But that doesn’t matter at all because how could Gabriel and I miss such a wonderful and momentous occasion? We are both so happy for you and Max. And I know how long you’ve dreamed of this, Charlie. When we met in Gunter’s Tea Shop—wasn’t it just over a year ago now?—and our Society for Enlightened Young Women formulated our list of eligible rakehells, Max’s name was at the very top. Indeed, he was the very first gentleman you mentioned. All of us—Sophie, Olivia, and I—knew how you felt about him from that moment. And at long last, your dream is coming true.”
“Hmm. About that,” said Charlie, wrinkling her nose. “Our engagement is…I’m afraid it’s not actually all that I’d dreamed of.” And then she confessed all to Arabella—the nature of her arrangement with Max and the series of events that had precipitated it all, including Lord Rochfort’s villainy.
“Oh my goodness, Charlie. That’s…that’s…” Arabella crossed the room and enveloped her in a warm hug. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. And here I am blathering all kinds of congratulatory platitudes—which, of course, are heartfelt—but are not at all helpful given the way things really are.” She straightened and her forehead dipped into a frown. “And Max is a colossal clodpole. Why are all of our men so…so stubborn and completely oblivious about how they really feel? Even when it’s so obvious to everyone else that they are in love?”
Charlie laughed and reached for one of Arabella’s hands, which still rested upon her shoulder. “Yes, they are oblivious at times, aren’t they? But you weren’t to know that Max is a being a clodpole. Sophie”—she caught her other friend’s sympathetic gaze—“had no idea either until I told her. It seems that the course of true love hasn’t run smooth for any of us.”
“Well, I’m certain Max will come to his senses sooner rather than later,” said Sophie. “I mean, look at you, Charlie. How could he not? Aside from being brave and clever and warm and caring, you’re beautiful.”
Charlie felt a blush warm her cheeks. “It’s my new gown,” she murmured. “Madame Boucher encouraged me to try something different. I don’t usually wear turquoise, but I think it suits me.”
“Aye, it most certainly does,” said Arabella. “It brings out the color of your eyes and your hair.”
“And I love the sweeping neckline,” added Sophie. “The cut is perfect for your figure. Max won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”
Charlie rose from the dressing table’s stool and smoothed her silk skirts. “Thank you. Both of you. You always know how to make me feel better. The only thing that could make this evening a little more perfect is if Olivia and Hamish could be here.”
Arabella pushed a blonde curl behind her ear. “I believe they’ll be back in Town by the beginning of May. I received a letter from Olivia the day before we departed Edinburgh.”
“Oh, wonderful,” said Charlie. Then she frowned at Arabella. “Are you all right? You’ve gone awfully pale all of a sudden.”
“Yes, you have,” agreed Sophie. “Would you like to sit down?”
Arabella nodded. “Aye. I would…thank you.”
Charlie led her friend to a nearby armchair. “Can I get you anything? A glass of barley water, perhaps? A pot of tea?”
But Arabella shook her head. “No…I’ll be fine. I expect the fatigue of the journey has caught up with me, that’s all.”
“Are you certain? I can ring for anything you’d like. It’s no trouble at all.”
Arabella smiled weakly. Her cheeks were as pale as the ivory satin of her ball gown. “I…I might go back to my room for a wee bit if that’s all right. Perhaps I just need to lie down.”
“Of course,” said Charlie, concern lacing her tone.
Sophie drew close and offered Arabella her arm. “I’ll go with you. And if Gabriel isn’t about, I’ll send Nate to look for him.”
“Thank you,” murmured Arabella as she shakily rose to her feet. “I’m sure I will be as right as a trivet before too long. There’s no way on earth I’m missing your betrothal ball, Charlie.”
Charlie touched her arm. “You must look after yourself first, my sweet friend. Rest as much as you need to. We’ll all still be here on the morrow.”
After Arabella and Sophie had quit the suite, Charlie crossed to the armoire in the bedchamber and retrieved her mother’s diamond and pearl en tremblant brooch from her jewelry
box. It matched the diadem, which had also once belonged to her mother, perfectly. After Charlie pinned it to the lace overlay on her bodice, tears welled in her eyes and her vision misted. An overwhelming wave of bittersweet emotion flooded her heart. It was times like this that she missed her dearly departed mama, Elizabeth, more than she could say.
A knock at the bedroom door made her jump. After hastily wiping away the tears that had slipped onto her cheeks, she nodded at Molly, who’d emerged from the dressing room. “You may answer it.”
When the door opened, Charlie’s breath caught. Max.
Even though she hadn’t seen him as often as she would have liked over the past two days, she certainly hadn’t expected him to come knocking on her bedroom door. But now that he was here, she was glad that he had, whatever the reason.
Hoping he wouldn’t notice that she’d been crying a moment before, she offered a smile and said in a tone she hoped was playful, “Max, you naughty boy, what are you doing visiting my bedroom? I know we’re engaged, but surely that’s not allowed. I thought we were trying to keep my name out of the gossip columns. Especially given the fact there might be a spy for the Beau Monde Mirror in our midst.” Charlie had managed to share her suspicions with Max shortly after his arrival at Heathcote.
Max’s mouth tilted into a crooked smile as he crossed the threshold. “Heathcote is my home, you are my fiancée, and spy or no, I’ll do whatever I like within its walls.” Then he winced. “I sound insufferably arrogant again, don’t I? Even for a duke.”
Behind him, Molly closed the door, then scuttled away into the dressing room again.
Charlie laughed. “Well, if you need to ask… But I’m sure it can be trained out of you by the right woman.”
“Good God, you make me sound like a stubborn ass or a recalcitrant pup.”
Charlie shrugged a shoulder. “If the cap fits… All teasing aside, though, and at the risk of inflating your ducal arrogance even further, I should mention that you are looking particularly elegant this evening, Your Grace.”
How to Catch a Devilish Duke: The Disreputable Debutantes Page 18
